Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1861-10-30

oury II silently, deeply In the most accTet
recesses of his heart.
The same sun that shone on the pure, pla-
cid face of the sleeping cripple, looked in at
another window, upon different scene
Miss Meta Leslie's bedroom Miss Meta, |
though belle aud On heirsss, sss no slug |
gard, and the first rays of the sun On that |
bright winters morning drove sleep from
her eyes, and she sprang out of bed to look |
at the soft, white mantle of snow which had |
fallen during the night. She was by no |
means an unsightly object for the sun to fall
upon. The tiny bare feet that sank into the
rich carpet were white as the snow outside
and the little figure in its white night-drsss
was graceful and we'll rounded. The face
was fair, with laughing hazsl eyss, bright
rosy cheeks, and pretty features; and the
tangled masses of brown curls that fell around
it and swept over the fair, rounded shoulders
were rich in color and most profuse in their
wavy luxuriance. Miss Meta had trick of
talking to herself in low, pleasant voice,
and, as she stood there, she said, softly
"How white and pure it looks | like snow.
| wonder if mother will let me ge out to-
night. She is SO afraid | will take cold. 1t
is so funny for her to worry SO, when | am
never sick | suppose it's because poor sister
Mary died of consumption. how cold it
is" And, having arrived at this conclusion,
Miss Meta turned away from the window, and
proceeded to dress for breakfast.
She was ssucy, coquettish little beauty,
this heroine of mine, and had admirers in
great quantities, for she vas not only gay,
bewtching, and beautiful, but the only liv-
ing child of wealthy father. Her cenquests
in society, far from making her proud or vain,
seemed forgotten the instant her foot crossed
her own threshold, and her pleasant laugh,
gay songs, and bright face were truly the
lights Of that stately house.
Her mother was an invalid not so danger
ously i'll as to alarm her husband and child,
but suffering from c chronic complaint that
kept her in her own room years in and out,
so this pretty little sunbeam was the house
keeper. The servants followed her little fig
ure with their eyes as it fitted to and fro in
the big house, and whispered Irish blessings
upon her head for ''whole-souled rale lady,
as she was"
1t was not ia the gay circles where she
reigned as bell that DIR. Harcourt learned to
love Meta Leslie it was in the pretty, cheer
full room, where her gentle, suffering mother
claimed his professional care. Day after day
he found her there, making her mothers life
bright, in defiance of pain, by loving gentle
care, and joyous, happy conversation. An
hour would often fly by unhesded by Willie
as he sat beside the invaiid's couch, and lis
tened to the sweet voice that made such music
in his heart. He did not Enow, but he guess
ed whose gentle pity placed the low easy
chair ready for his poor crippled form, and
the inmost core of his heart thrilled to the
low voice that greeted him and the touch Of
the small hand that led him to his seat
1t was the morning of the bright winter S
day after the struggle, and Meta sat beside
her mother waiting for the Doctors visit
Her bright crimson morning g-dress suited wei
her glowing beauty, and the little hands ri
vailed in whiteness the soft wool they were
knitting into pretty shapes The Doctor.
chair stood ready for him but the long morn
ing passed. and he did not come.
Late in the afternoon, he called, stayeC
only long enough to attend to his patient, an(
then, for the first time, declining his seat
bowed, and LETT the room. Weeks past, ant
still these short, hurried visits were all tha
| he paid but the task told fearfully upon him
The pale cheek grew paler, and the large eye
ssdder; the halting step became slower, ant
/ the bent form dropped more and more On
day he did not come; friend took his place
DIR. Hsrcourt, said he, was i'll, and had re-
quested him to CALL
The strange Doctor had taken his leave
and Mrs. Leslie lay still, musing, when Met
came softly to her side.
Mother There was world of sadness i
her voice, and Mrs. Leslie noticed that he
cheek was very pale-I am going to see Mrs
i Harcourt. II want to inquire if the Docto
is very i'll. Oh, mother, motherr The he
tears were streaming down the young girl
face.
why, Meta Meta, dear, what ails you
1 was always afraid, sobbed Meta, I wa
always afraid he would die, he is so good, S
learned, so much above other men. He ha
grown so pallid lately, and his face is so SAT
Oh, mother, what shall do if he dies !?
Mrs Leslie was utterly amazed. She sa'
now how pure her daughters love was fc
this young cripple-like that of child for
teacher, looking with worship almost upo
the wisdom and goodness of one far abov
: her, and never dreaming that her own ga,
Il joyous nature could attract one so calm an
good. The mother was troubled. The Do
for was a crinnle and moor in worldly sood