The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-03-29
NUMBER 8.

!
| become . dull, melancholy misanthropo; with
you may become good and useful man. Will
you refuse, Eva, TO help me! One thing more
from at present making public our engagement
and Marriage reason SO potent that, If you
refuse secrecy ',, we must part. Say, Eva, shall
my happiness for q scrupie
letter ended; and then I laid it down and wept
feeling in my heart than had known for
long time; and the struggle was hard. Ny
mother, could leave her thusf How had she
and pride had she looked forward to my set
ting in life!
Her sweet face came before me in all its good
ness and purity. Mol could not leave her,
could not thus deceive and disapp0int her.-
There was the church, too, with its affairs and
flowers; who would tend themf could not
go, and so resolved resolution, alas! too
"At this moment o hand WINS gently laid upon
my shoulder, and looking up hastily, saw my
mother.
"sEva, are you ill, my darling, or unhappy!
Why are you here alone, and riserableg
az made no reply, but laid my head upon my
mothers breast and cried aloud. Those were
the last tears L ever shed there. I oven feel
now her soft hand caressing me, and drawing
back the hair from my brow, while she sOothed
me as though had been II little child.
II am ill and tired, mother said, at length.
"'I see you are, Eva.' And she laid me down
gently, and sat by me until 1 slept. Two days
afterward was out, and turning round the
road that led to tho wood, met Lord Montford.
found he had arrived that day, and had been
waiting many hours for q chance of seeing me-
but he looked SO pale and ill I scarcely knew
him.. Let me tell the result in few words. 1
promised him to leave home, mother, and all
would.
and then we will return, and your mother will
forgive US and bless u.s.
&c. Why not wait for the short time p said for
f @T ,,ee '"'l'' ""e's my m''Asf. tears AA4
al cannot; you do not know the reasons,
Eva. But do not refuse me. You are the Lust
tie that binds me to life and hope. e.
-"And he arranged that early the next mofn-
ing should meet his carriage in the park; that
we should go straight to London, and there De
quietly married; aud then go on the same day
That night, sister, I n.vs r slept. Many times
half knelt to pray, and perhaps had prayed,
God would have heard me; but there was that
In my heart that would not let me; and SO, in
YEARLY pacing my room, in bitter weeping and
grief for my mother, in passionate tears, when
remembered my promise, in hard struggle and
mothers roof When morning dswned, 9 trieS
to go and look at my mother; twice, thrice,
half opened the door, and, shuddering, closed
it; and with my heart half breaking at leaving
her, and yet drawn OH irresistibIy, passed
from my home q guilty fugitive, . cruel, willful
child. / went ont into the pure, sweet, morn.
ing air, and it famed softly my burning
face; the birds were singing such glorious
carols of praise; the flowers were lifting their
fair heads, dropping with dew; peace, and
beauty, and joy were all around me; but in my
heart were darkness and sorrow, grief and re-
morse. Suddenly u strong arm twined around
me, and a low vuiee, whose tones knew and
loved too well, poured into my ears rapture
of love and thanks. And in whirl of time
that seems to mo now dream, / was married
and in Paris Immediately on our arrival at
Paris, my husband wrote to my mother, telling
her of our marriage, conjnring her for time
not to reveal it, and begging her fyrg; yeness