The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1869-01-28
From Every Saturday.
THE ABBOT'S POOL.
IN SIX cHAPTERs.-cHAPTER ".

'Deaf my LoTu,
MAKE me acquainted with thy cause of grief"
-SHAKEsPEARE.
Mr.. Denbigh's illness proved not to
be serious. A few days of entire rest
conquered it. Elsie had by no means
forgotten the resolution which had
grown out of her talk with Isott, but it
was not easy to find an opportunity of
carrying it into effect. Again and
again she began little remarks intended
to lead up to the great question: "Have
you anything on your mind" And
again and again she had not courage to
come to the point.
One evening, as they sat together,
he suddenly asked her if she had ever
read Southey's All for Love, and in
sisted on reading it through to her.
When he had finished, he asked her
what she thought Of it7
ut is very beautiful" she said, "only
l don't feel as if it were natural"
"What! You think the devil no
longer goeth about, seeking whom he
may devourH"
II did not mean that. / meant that
l do not think Cyra's married life could
have been SO happy and peaceful with
that dreadful man for a husband"
"Indeed! Not when
"He loyed her as sincerely,
90 obpJ nd tnh
As he had bought her dearly"
Did not that deserve some little return,
however bad he might be"
II did not say she could not love
him. But the more she cared for him,
the more she would feel the gulf be-
tween them, l think. Oh! it is a
wretched heart breaking story how
glad l am it really never happened"
"Yes; that is comfort certainly"
he saidi and there was a pause, which
she broke by saying
"If there has been nothing else to
make the heroine of this poem unhappy,
she must have seen that there was an
atmosphere about her husband which
she could not understand something
hidden from her. Can anything be
more wretched than that?"
She stopped, and, finding herself or
the brink Of her great subject, blushed
so guiltily, that her husband asked, in
his sudden, suspicious way, "What are
yOn thinking aboutT
She left her place, and came to knee
beside him. She put her arms round
his neck, and laid her head on his
breast, bending down so that he could
not see her face. II am thinking,
she said, with a fast beating heart,
"that / should be so grieved if you eveI
kept anything from me anything that
was perplexing you, or troubling you
Whatever it was | would so mucf
rather know it, and help you to bear
it." ~ I. .a..aa
She ended her little speech rather
surprised that he had not interrupted
her; he did not even answer or move
until she looked up, afraid that she ha(
vexed him. But there was no ange
in bis face; there was only grav'
and troubled look; and all be sait
was, "What fancies have you got il
your head. Elsiei"
~ have thought sometimes, when
have seen you look oppressed and on
of spirits, that something-I have n,
idea what, Philip--was worrying yol
and making you anxious: perhap
something that you don't like to tel
me; and / have so often longed to beg
YOU to trust me, and let me know
there is anything. could bear it
Philip, indeed, indeed ! could bea
anything, if only felt that you reall,
trust me-" AZ. .U ns
He took her in his arms, and he'll
her clasped in them, smoothing dow
her long fair hair.
"Poor child poor child" he said
and then there was deep heavy sigt
as if it came from whole world Of OF
preston, 4s.
"Philip." she pleaded, returning I
the charge, 'ff you have anything th'
worries you, do tell me Whatever