The St. Cloud journal., 1867-11-14

watched her :s she lay there, sickly
arose within her heart that conquered
.ner-a despairing, hopeless conviction
that she dared not leave her.
She sat when it had come, and rock
ed herself to and fro, crouchiug her
heal, putting out her hands and cover
ing her face, moaning over and over
AGAIN some low, uuintelligible, broken.
hearted words. She never CHANGED
sound or movement till Mrs. Morton's
qoerulous voice broke into her misery.
she only changed :hem then to raise
her white face to her mother, aud strive
to utter words which At her first effort
choked her and would not come.
Aod when at last, kneeling by the
BEDSIDE, With her face presse4 Lon her
o1tstretched hands, the poor girl utter
co them giving her broken hearted
promise that she would 90, for her re-
ward there came this answer
"Could you not have said as much at
the beginning" Mrs. Morton said,
..without doing your best to kill me
hrst! but you are. still rs you have
been all Your life,-thinking of no
creature in the world except yourself" j."
The promise was given, and from
that time onward she was Altogether
passive. The chief object of every one
about her was o-hurry her away before
Philip Iangton could hear that she was
going. Aefkpew this, but she never
said word. Living as they did they
Qplxx e@lx needed M 9 fev days to make their
Pre2aratloqs tor departure. The, rector
promise without detaiuing Margaret, 10
Snd a substitute for her in the school.
cby the cnd,otr. week they we're an 10
readiness to 90. ''..'. :.
She sat, on the last night, in her own
room alone. Through all the week
poor langton's unanswered letter had
lain upon her heart. Tonight she
wrote to him.
Like one whom sorrov had stunned
into iasensibility, she told him all that
had been done; she told him OF the
promise she had given almost without
one demonstration of emotion. And
only then, when al was said, suddenly
At some stray thought-the chance re-
calling Of few words uttered long
before-al' the great agony of her
heart burst forth.
.':"aDo you remember" she said, "that
evening when We parted, how I told
you that I felt as if l had hold of the
last link of chain ?''
And then
sWhat am: I to do ?" she broke out
wildly: 20 my God! what am I to
do! How am I to live all my life long
alone? 0 Philip, help me-! Philip.
have mercy on me /! write me one worl,
or shall die. O, If l could have seen
you once more,-onlv once more,-only
once more before I go! All day long
all night, IS lie awake, I think of it.
o Philip! write to me, write to me
ana 1org'Ve me, or my heart will
break"
She had been in her new home for
month when the answer to that appeal
was brought to her. A hard and cruel
answer. This was what it said:
81 trusted all my happiness to you,
and you wrecked it. For this 1 give
you no forgiveness From Yopr solemn
promise to become my wife-from your
solemn promise to wait for me till l
should come and claim you,-no power
on earth had the right to set you free.
You have broken those promises of
your own weak choice and will. Had
l been by your side you had not dared
to do this wrong to me. If you had
been faithful l would have loved you
as never living man will love you DOW.
/ would have cherished you as never
man will cherish you. You have
chosen your own lot apart from me.
Aud T."
The letter broke off here. To this
last blank desolate llnc there was added
nothi ing but the passionate bitter cry,
-"Margaret! Margaret
CONCLUDED NEXT wEEK.)