Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1866-03-22

Is Philip happy? Do you think he ii
! Lappy" She would ask sometimes. "Ht
used to seem to love me so | don't Sc,
how it could have all gone out of his heart
Philip was happy, or his exulting face
and satisfied bearing beled him strangely
| Hetty Day seemed to fill his eyes and
heart full If he had tho.ght that Dely
would die for his sake, perhaps he would
| have relented-for the honor Of human na
ture | hope so--but he had no comprehen
sion Of such love as hers. He fancied, per
haps, that she was secluding herself and
putting on melancholy airs to bring hin
back, and that she would be all right wher
| once she found that he was married, and il
was done with. At any rate he hurried OF
the preparations for his wedding anC
! though we would have kept it from Dely il
we could, somehow she heard of every
thing, and every day it seemed harder fol
her to live.
With the midsummer heats, she dropped
perceptibIy, and even |, who had still kept
some faint hope alive that she would IL
time conquer her heart-break, gave it uI
altogether then, and watched her during
the summer days going down into the val
ley and the shadow, at the other end o.
which shines light not of this world
The first day of September Philip Gleas
on was married DEFY had not sat uE
much for some time, but that she insisted
on being placed in an easy-chair at the
! open window. Her mother and | botl
knew why, and obeyed her silently.
About IL o'clock the wedding was over
A smart carriage dashed down the hill
from Mr.. Days, containing the newly mar
ried pair for mistress Hetty had expan
ded notions, and they were going away OF
fortnight's bridal tour The bride had OF
an overdressed air, of course, but she look
ed undeniably handsome in Il buxom, rus
tic style OF hundsomeness. Phil was, a.
usual, bright Of eye. rosy of cheek, glossy
of hair, and most thoroughly self-compla
cent. But think he must have seen the
little white, sad face cleaning like snow
drop against the ewindow-pane--the face O
the inrOcent little girl who had loved him
as no body would ever love him again
When he-had gone by she sighed long
gasping sigh, and then she put out hel
hands.
Il want to go to bed now. please" she
said and we laid her gently back upon
..
She had no disease. If it were not dy
ing of broken heart, | know not what il
was Every day she grew weaker and al
last three days before it was time for the
bridal pair to return, there came night il
which | watched her life go out. Just al
the last she turned, to me, and with a look
that made me see again the bright young
face had watched in the gallery on my
first Sunday in Greendalc she said
Il tried to live, but | couldn't and now
am going to live forever.
Then after little while she whispered
with her head lying on that faithful mother
heart which had never failed her-"Tel
Philip | forgave him and asked God tC
bless him ;" and then she went to sleep, as
she had done so many times on that moth
er's breast i'll her sweet infancy. She dice
so quietly and so painlessly that we knew
not the moment when her soul passed.
Three days after Philip Gleason, coming
galy home with his young wife met a tu
neral procession going solemnly out of wild
ow ScofieId's yard He needed to ask nC
questions. He saw the coffin, with it,
wreaths of snowy chrysanthemums-
widow in her deep mourning and he knew
all. His face grew ghastly. If ever
saw a man look as if his sin had found lin
out he looked o,iu the few minutes through
which he waited for the funeral to pass by
left Greendale soon after, and have
never seen again the little village shut II
among the Vermont hills, or heard of the
good or ill fortune which pursues that man
But doubt if the old self-content is i'll his
manner now-if Sometimes he does moi
contrast Mrs. Hetty's loud, aggressive
ways with that dead girls gentleIess-i
his life has punished him as she, poor, low
ing child, would have been the last to de
sire. If men are ever haunted-as by
memory | surely believe they are--he mus
see, sometimes, that white frail face agains
the pane, which looked it's last on him the
day he carried by his bride.