The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1863-08-28

B When her lover looked into her eyes he
knew her thought. Still he asked the
question, d9n8x bag .vginafaf T9ianolE
~" What am to do, Margery ?"ed1ao
"What God and your own soul tell
your" T eG ae
Sand you, child?" $40 5 gsd
I am to wait and bear; or, perhaps,
/, too, shall find my work" .isEal
So Nelson Harding had marched away
in the August sunshine, and Margery
Dane was to commence her waiting. a4
Honor to the brave who fight and con-
quer, or fight and fall But is theirs the
hardest fate? Do. not those suffer more
who cannot lose in action their fear and
anguish? who must count slow hours,
shudder at tidings of onward movements,
live on fragments of newspapers? -Ay;
and is it not true that every bullet shoots
double, and the shot that flies furthest
makes the sorest wound? sqidsbggd 9di
L But Margerys waiting did not last long.
So soon, that it scarcely seemed as if the
regiment could ohave reached it's destina-
ton, the news of Antietam came. The
Sixteenth was engaged in it, and'she read
among the wounded the name of Lieut..
Nelson Harding. She was slight, deli
cately organized little thing. Her tall,
strong lover had been want to call her his
child; but the child did not shrek or
faint. She did not even cry. Some spirit
possession of eher--a cool, brave spirit,
strong to do and to dare! She went to-
the room where her uncle and aunt were
sitting together They started when they
saw the white, firm face, whence all the
pink prettiness was gone as utterly as if
it had been touched by death. 3a h'A
81 am going to Washington, uncle.
Lieutenant Harding is wounded. He will
be in the hospital. The next train leaves
in an hour" no f1ol ..) ik
'But, child, you must not go alone!"
said Mr.. Dane, with startled face and Won
dering eyes. ''Do you want me?"
"As you please. 1t might be help, if
you could get away in time. There is on
ly an hour'' $3.50 % 7f1o9e 5
She shut the door. Her uncle and aunt
exchanged glances.
"She will CO." Mrs. Dane said; 81
know her. Of course, you had better go
to take care of her," ~: ..r.
That settled it. Mrs. Danes judy
ments were always final.
When the long journey was over, and
Mr.. Dane and his niece stood on the
threshold of the Baltimore hospital, to
which they had been sent from Washing
ton, they met there a Connecticut Sur
geon whom they knew. Mr.. Dane inqui-
red OF bin for Lieutenant Harding F.
"There is no hope for him, poor fell
low!" was the answer, and then Surgeon
Hunt met Margery's eyes, and remember
ed that she was Nelson Harding's prom
ised wife. He murmured sincere but
half indistinct apology, which her clear
tones cut short: -
''Thank you-do not blame yourself
| wanted to hear the truth It was best
that | should know it before I saw him
Now, show me where he is, please"
"Nelson!'
She had been standing for moment
watching him. Eyes and mouth were shut
resolutely against tear or moan. But his
CHASTITY face was eloquent She could see
in his convulsed features the fortunes he
was bearing silently. At her voice his
eyes opened. The old fond look replaced
the pain in them. think he forgot for
moment that he was suffering when he
saw the slight form at his bedside, and
hoard the voice, the well-known, we'll
loved voice. He put out his hand:
Child-love-M argery!"
"Did you expect me, Nelson?''
Tomorrow not to-day. | had not
thought you could be here so soon. I
was waiting for your coming to die. I
think should have waited week if need
were. But the agony is horrible"
She bent over him, and left kiss on
the pale forehead. He drew her closer
then, and his lips chung to hers with long,
despairing pressure.
ITO think after tonight | shall never
kiss you again, Margery. If we meet in
heaven it will not be as here. I shall love
your spirit; but it seems to me / shall
miss all this vanished sweetness of tender
eyes, loving lips. softly falling hair. God
help us, child, how little the best of us
kn9w whore We are going!'
Then she cOmforted him with her clear
er vision, her stronger faith. It could not
be for long she whispered-their parting.
She would be his through all time and
eternity, just as truly as now.
For hours he lay with her hand in his
waiting. 1t was strange feeling he had
had when he heard her voice and met her
eyes-a feeling that she had brought him
his release from pain-that now even
Death would treat him gently. But the
strange thought may have been true.
Through those long winter hours with her
hand in his, he did not suffer. He only
felt his strength ebbing away, and knew
that bis life was dissolving into moments
just at the last his face bright med and he
whispered: -
Something tells me you are right,
Margery. The future will not be dim and
pale beside the present 1t will be bright
er. my soul before it leaves the body, is
asserting its own immortality. l know
that 4 shall live hereafter. Never think
you are solitary again, child. I shall live
and l shall love you. Day times and
night times will bring you nearer to me.
each one:" AAs1htA
| Then pause, broken only by her tears.
which wet his hair, and her kisses on his
lips-then he cried, with one last effort:
"Never be sorry, Margery, that went.