Norfolk day book. [volume] (Norfolk and Portsmouth Va.) 1868-1880, 1869-08-02
NORFOLK AND PORTSMOUTH MONDAY MORNING, AUGUST

the Eden COrOnet or my soul
and thrown them whitening at
the feet of despair? Why has
the wing of sorrow Swallowed
so darkly on my way tonight?
Yes, tonight, the last | shall
ever spend at dear old Willow
vale. But L deserve it all; and
must bow, aud kiss the rod
with unmurmuring subm 'ssion,
as | read on the tomb OF my
Destiny-Too Late!
I took the ring up, which
had been lying as a silent mon
itor before me, and AGED long
and earnestly on thu treasure-
wondering to myself if ] could
wear it, and see it flashing it's
bright rays into my eyes-and
lust as / concluded it should en-
circle my finger, now, and for
ever, I thought I saw an in
scription, and on holding it up
to the light 1 read-'l'll love
thee on earth-l'll meet thee
in Heaven
( Oh what agony! What a
deathless age ofretribution! but
my life shall henceforth be de-
dicated to a more noble work,
than that of casting clouds over
the sky of my fellow creatures.
1t has taught me a lesson |
shall never forget until the
cold vapor of death shall rest
on my brow.
CHAPTER XVI.
"Heaven help me through it tits d
weary world,
The dust and ashes of happier time"
Time has passed since l left
the shore of my nativity; Elsie
has gone with her husband to
seek their fortune among stran
gers, and dear uncle Dan and
his loving wife have invited
the orphan to make their city
home her own, which has been
accepted. All try to cheer
the dreary life OF the wanderer.
Blanch Summers (my aunt's
sister, calls me her darlirg <,
when gloom hangs on my brow,
and trys to point me to the
gilded heights of hope. Nettie
Malcomb (my uncle's only
daughter] hangs fondly over
my shoulder and says, cousin
Del, cheer up and give us the
light of your smiles ; but dear
little Leon gets into my arms
and nestles his head on my
bosom, making me long for
the days of my childhood, when
| was wrapped in the arms of a
fathers and mothers love.
'Maravatio' still peers up
over the waters of the James,
but the Dermnots have no
claimsto it now.
DR.. Fitzgibbon carried his
fair Luta home, to die in the
loving arms of her parents, land
soon they too crossed the dark
stream, ojoin her in a land of
spirits.
Lilly has gone-but to sun
ny cline, as the trusting wife
of Edwin Darville-so the old
home OF consecrated memory
will give them a welcome no
more-But of Arthur | could
hear nothing of a definite ma
ture-but imagined he was
wondering meath the blue sky
of Italy, or upon the classic
shores Of Greece to fill mis- (al-
ready rich mind, with choice
flowers from a foreign cline;
but alas how soon were those
imaginings hushed; for in ma
king a trip to another city--I
wandered to the home of the
dead--a city of tombs, over
looked by the canopy of Heaven;
and In looking over the cpl
taphs on the tombs l paused,
and then read
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF
ARTHUR DERMONT,
WHO SADLY FELT,
There's nothing true but Heaven
How / got from that old GEM
etry l cannot tell you gentle
reader; but when I awoke to
consciousness l was watched by
loving eyes bending over me.
I have never heard whether
this was really the tomb of Ar
thur Dermont, of Maravatio,