The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-08-27
MEG. HARTLEY'S CURE.
BY FLORENCE MARRYAT.
CONCLUDED.

thought, on her shoulder; don.
touch me. Thank God l am dying
She feared touch might recall heI
to life; she dreaded lest some good
Samaritan should retain in her that
which the loss of John Hartley had
converted from a blessing to a curse
Don't touch me" she again whis-
pered, as the h ludling became more
patent to her senses; only leave me
alone
"OnIv leave you alone, little wife
When the fire has completely gone
out. and TIE room is as cold as a cell
lar, and I am waiting for my tea.
Why, it's rot like my busy bee to be
sleeping on the hearth rug when her
husband wants her. What's the mat
ter. M ~ Are you tired, my darling.
or only lazy2"
MARGARET Hartley started to her feet
as if she had been shot. The room 10
utter darkness; the fire burnt out in
the CRATE; and the baby on her bosom
even shivering with the cold. How
could she have been so foolish as TO
slumber there while all her duties
were neglected?
But the next moment her dream
and its import flashed upon her mind /,
and, feeling the glad relief which
comes TO US when we have ex-
perienced some unfounded dread, she
burst into flood of happy tears. s.
y John! JohnG she exclaimed,
as she hung about her husbands
neck. : [ dreamed that | had lost
you: that we were separated" 4
God forbid, my Lowell" he an
swered, solemnly. trust that moth
ing will ever have the power to sepa-
rate US. kept death. But give me
Daisy, Meg, aud let us have can
dies and tea. I'm as hungry as a
hunter tonight, and shall do justice
to anything you may have to give
me-
She dried her eyes, and set about
seeing to her husband s comfort, whilst
a glad thanksgiving that her fear was
ringing its halleujah in her heart. In
a few minutes the FIRE was burning
again in the CRATE, the candles were
lighted and on the table, and Marga
ret had decided that she could spare
John a mossel of cold meat for his
tea from the provision for next days
dinner. When she returned, she
round him dancing the child upon
his knee, whilst he sang a lively tune
to mark the time. What could have
happened to her usually sober and
sedate husband to make him so merry
to -night? Margaret thought, as she
looked at his bright face and listened
to his cheerful voice, that she had
never seen John so gay before. But
as his spirits rose, land they had not
reached their ultimatum until after
tea,) hers seemed to fall. Self-re
proach was heavy at her heart; her
bright content eOntrasted most unfa-
vorably with her feeling of the after
noon; and the more she thought on
them, and on her dream, the more
she despised herself for having given
way to their indulgence. She was de-
pressed aud half fearful all the even
ing; and her husbands circumstances
only called forth what were to him
most mysterious expressions of peni-
tent humility.
am not worthy to be your wife,
john she exclaimed on one Oeca-
sion. am far worse than y.u think
me to be. Ali it you knew alll"-
and then John laughed at her, and
affirmed he would not be afraid even
t. know all. He was too sure OF
his little wife's integrity and love for
him.
"W7at o'clock is it?" he asked
more than once during the evening
What m ,kes You so curious about
the time John?' inquired his wife
Have You to go out again? l hope
not, for it is raining harder than
ever;' and she shuddered to recall
how she mad been dragged Tin fancy)
bareheaded through that very rain
prisoner in the lrasp of Robert Mel,
son.
Nothing of the sort, replied her
husband; my work il over for to-
day. Aud yet / am anxious about the
time, Meg, aud | wish 1T were nine
o'clo, k.
1t must be nearly so" she answer
ed, as she peeped behind the blind
. for the pAstman is next door,"
John Hartley rose from his seat.
and coming behind her, placed his
hands upon her shoulders.
How he tremble6 Tor was it her
own fr,me which shook beneath his
weight
" Is the postman coming here?" he
whispered, eagerly. (Why, what on
earth could John want to know that
fOr-he who so seldom received OF
wrote a letter?) He isis he not
Margaret ?-yes mo yes he is
Hurra my darliDg-it's all rightP
and, with one fond kiss on her aston
ished face, he had darted like boy
into the passage, and opened the hal
door himself.
=" Here it isl' he exclaimed, as ht
rushed back with an open letter in hi.
hand. l could not tell you before
dearest, lest you should be disappoint
ed, but | haG seen Lord Chester thi
afternoon, and was almost sure of it.
"Of what-Of what? she said
eagerly.
"Ot living in the country, dearest
Of the Incumbency of Middlecross
the village where my mother and sis
ter live. Ali | can take you Their
now, Meg, darling take down M,
dear wife and my little child, o
whom | am so proud, and show m,
people | am justly So take you to on
of the prettjest parsonages In Eng
land; Just such a home as we hav
always pictured and longed to hav
together; where Daisy shall learn t
walk upon the green grass; and W
shall have a garden, and a meadow
aud keep our COWS and pigs; and yol
shall have your poultry; and-why
what's this, darling? - In tears?-
when l thought you would be so glad.
o, Johnl Johnl" sobbed the littl
woman, | don't deserve it; indeed
don't. Take me in your arms, John
and let me tell you all. shall neve
be happy again until you have for
nivep mo -