The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-06-18
The Romance of an 0ld Maid,
By CLARA AUGUSTA
CONCLUDED.

said Persia. decidedly nothing
could dissuade me from my purpose
Well, one thing | should like to
know. and bat is, where is the mon
" coming from to take you to New
York; Twenty dollars is the least
that'Il do it, and twenty dollars don't
grow on every bushP
Persia crimsoned hOtly, put she
did not spare herself. -,
Aunt Martha she said, Il will
tell you. You know that When It was
thoIght 7 was to marry Mr.. Delmere,
mana gave me a white silk dress. 1t
has never been fitted, and Lucy Ches-
| ter. who is to be married in August,
will give me the money it cost. l am
taking it to her now. 1t will be a
/ little more than fifty dollars, and with
strict economy | hope to make 1t SUI
fee"
Wall, wall. / must sayyOu' re a tool
for your paiasl' said AuRt Martha
but it is doubtful if Persia realized
what she said. She went out Of the
house with a white, tired faee-and
that look has never left her. She
wears it still.
Arrived in New York, she had
no difficulty in finding the house of
| Judge Claremont. The Irish woman
had been gone two days, she ascer-
tanned, and Aubrey was alone. he
lay on a bed in a sumptuOus chamber,
the hot Summer sun pouring. over
him, and the terrible fever of delirium
holding possession of his brain. He
was so fearfully changed that no eye
save that of love would have reeog-
nized him, and his constant cry was
Helen! Helenl' Persia experienced
a fierce pang in the knowledge that
even in delirium another name than
hers was on his lips. But she had
come to perform a sacred duty, and
nothing could make her shrink from
it. She tended him as carefully as a
mother would tend her sick child.
She humored his capricious fancy,
which continually exacted something
new; she told him stories OF quiet
country scenes, where the grass vas
green and the cowslips b~lossomed,
and the blue river "a peacefully be-
meath the dropping trees; and she
sang him simple little songs that
soothed and 1uieted him wonderfully.
He wore round his neck a slender
gold chain, to which was attached a
focket, aud this locket he kept in his
hand or held to his lips half the time,
One day when he was not quite so
violent, he opened it, and held it TO-
wards Persia.
is Helen's face, Aunt LOttie,
he said; for somehow he had taken to
calling his nurse Aunt L0ttle-
Helen's face, and | suppose l love
Helen, don't /? | ought to, for L am
going to marry her. | wish / knew
if l did love herr
at was a dark, beautiful face, full
of fire and spirit. but not half so love.
ly as that of Persia Anderson before
her sorrow. How very hard 1t wa;
for this girl you can only family i'm
agine, because you do not know hel
as / know her. Only Gods grace
could have kept her through this self.
imposed trial. After a time it became
evident that Delmere would live. Th'
physician took little credit to him
self; he said the man would I'VE his
life to the woman who had nurseC
him.
7 The disease had been most pow
erful internally, and though he woull
probably always be some d~isfgured
still there would be nothing repulslv
about its traces. Persia had take
infinite pains to aver such a catastro
phe. 1t was the middle of July be
fore he fully regained his conscious
ness. Persia was standing by hi
re bedside, bathing his forehead. II
looked at her wonderingly, and a slo'
crimson crept up to his face.
a" Persia, he said Persia AndeI
SOM And so, after all my unworthi
ness, you have eome to met My God
~ came to you because you needle
the little assistance | could give you
she said quietly.
Because you pitied me, and nj
J. because you still loved me?' he aske
S'Yes; because I pitied you. B,
cause | felt it my duty, also.
d.. "'Oh, Persia PersiaI' he erie
passionately, you loved me once
/" Hush she said, with solem
emphasis; [ buried that love aft,
you had slain it; buried it so dee
ht that the second life, which is the re
direction, can never reach it,.
Do not say sol1 he pleade
Persia, my only Lowell | did love yC
truly aud tenderlyl but you know n
e; cursed ambition; it has been my ban
Ny uncle urged Neon Miss Elmer
Ur open preference hattered me, and b
:. fore [ hardly realized what I was a
irS. I had committed myself too f
ut to retreat with honor. Listen TO 4
OIL a moment, Persia. Hear my who
~ story. and you will be mercitulT
- No, she said, sternly. withdrav
Is ing the hand he had taken / W
listen to nothing. You shall \
. wrong this other woman who trus
you Just as I once trusted you til
- l. Il shn loves Won and I hnne