The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1867-06-27

/ 6"e o"e Oe"InU ueI, neafQ Qet
call me, scold me for being late, my
own voice answered, saw aud heard all
the familiar sights and sounds Of every-
day lite, as We do sometimes in dreams.
"'l made strange and oerplexing by
some dreadful sense Of pain and trouble
"Het," said Milly, as We sat at tea,
you're not eating anything; you look
pale and glum you've sat out in those
horrid marshes till the sun has made
you sick. l shall not allow you to go
out there again, mind that"
1t pleased Milly to play the elder eis-
ter, and was always content that the
little one should d. what pleased her.
She vas my da'l;hg, the one thing that
my solitary life gave me to love till 1
saw Mark. 1 had set my idol long ago,
but it ccst me dear. l remember that
The child was in more than usual high
spirits on that evening; that she teased
me to talk to her, sing to her, and
d"ally flew up to bed in childish fit
OF anger, because l could do neither one
nor other. At any other time l should
have gone after her, coaxed and caressed
her into good temper. But uow. With
a feeling of relief that she was gone, I
sat at the window. staring out into the
dark, scented nie ht, aud counted the
cost Of the sacrifice. Long, long, 1 sat
there, long after the moon had risen,
had set, and the stars began to grow
dark before the streak Of gray light in
the cast. l thought of Mark of
what l had done Of what had given
up, until l was nearly mad; for when
l stood up ami closed the window b.
tore going up to my room, l had said
to myself that I would writa to Mark
Sutherland, when morning came, and
tell him I had chosen once more be-
tween the two I loved ,pd had chosen
differently. Therefore I hoped that I
was mad out I went up Stairs
quite resolved and quiet; I un
'ressed without ever once glancing to-
ward the bed where my little sister lay !;
l meant to lie down on my pillow with
out doing so; but oh ! l could not say
prayers and leave Milly without the
kiss l always gave her before I slept.
So I went up to the bed, and draw
ln5 back the curtain and looked down
upon what had for years been my sole
earthly treasure. The child looked
pale IN the cold gray dawn, her golden
hair was tossed wildly back from her
tace, and covered the pillow; and l
stood and gazed, my madness dying
away, my old self coming back, she
stirred in her sleep, two great tears
welled fr' IN the closed eyes, and with
a heavy sob she murmured; "Hestcr "
Then | knelt down in the gray dawn
ing aud thanked God that my madness
vas passe 1, aud prayed that He had
given me strength to make the sacrifice.
so He would help me never to regret
it.
l did uot see Mark Sutherland again;
but the next time that Milly went up
to the Hollies she told me on her re-
turn "that he had left the Holhes, gone
away to that dreadful India, and was
never coming back again." My heart
erhoed the words, bat I drew Milly to
mc and kissed her, and tried to be
patient and forget.
I could not forget; my nature was
tenacious Of what had ouce taken hold
upon it, and the course OF our lives was
too monotonons to permit change and
variety, scarcely knew, after Mark
went away, how the days and years
glided sway, their course was so un-
marked. and everything seemed so un.
changed At first l used to shrink and
shiver at the chance mention of Mark
Sutherland's name at the Hol'ies that
passed, and I pined to hear Of him with
weary, anxious longing, seldom salts
fed. They ceased to speak Of him
after while, as people Dc after long
absent friend, and by degrees it seemed
as if be was only remembered in one
poor woman's heart, who almost came
to think of him as if be had been re.
moved by death. So that one day
Milly came back from the Hollics, and
said as she united her hat and threw il
down, "Hester, guess; who in th'
world do you think came to the Hollie'
last nigtt?" Not even my Thoughts
suggested the right person. "
mo, no." said Milly, Is I named on
or two, "no; who but Cousin Mark VIII
went away to India years ago! l wa
= mere child at that time, but 1 remcm
bered him instantly compliment b
dii not return, by the by; though
when he found who was he ASKED At
ter you."
Years ago, was it, since Mark wen
away2 All! as Milly spoke it scenes
only yesterday; thejvy, the sorrow, tn
old pains, SO freshly now, we're throh
ing SO wildly once moro in my heart
He had not quite forgotten me, then
but did he remember me as rcmem
bered him?
I II do believe you have forgotten al
about him." Milly went on, land, le
me tell you, wonder at that, for l re
member he used to b. 80 fond of talkin
to you, IIetty, aud be is the kind Of
} man that women may be prtud of a
tracing, none the less because he care
very little, l should say, for women
general"