The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1870-06-16

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goyernabe gathering of clouds for (
storm. Her staid, melancholy soul--s
soul which usually lay in chains and sol
itary--cimbed writhing 10 her lip
and eyes, and made angry gestures be.
fore it spoke. Bessie stared at her il
alarm; she tried, in a spirit Of youthful
energy, to look her down; but the
struggle of prevention was useless the
hostile words came.
"Mr. Foster, can't willingly give
my niece to such an one as you," she
said in tremulous but desperate mon
otone. 81 s'pose, though, it's no use
forbidding you to 60 with her | s'pose
you wouldn't mind that. But expect
you wW care for one thiDg,-for heI
good. Ny will is made now in her ia
Vor. But if she marries you, shall
change it. / sha'n't leave her cent" ."
Here her sickly strength broke down;
such plain utterance of feeling and pur-
pose was too much for her nerves; she
burst into honest, bitter tears, and,
rushing to her room, locked herself up;
no doubt, too, she prayed there long,
and read solemnly in the Scriptures
What the result of this conscientious
but no doubt unwise remoDstrance
After a shock of disagreeable surprise,
the two lovers did what all true lovers
would have done; they entered into a
solemn engagement that no considera-
tions of fortune should prevent their
marriage. They shut their eyes on the
future, braved all the adverse chances
of life, and almost prayed for trials in
order that each might show the other
greater devotion. The feeling was nat
ural and ungovernable, and ! claim al.
so that it was beautiful and noble.
"Do you know all?" asked Bessie.
"Grandfather has never proposed to
leave me anything, he hated my father
SO! 1t was always understood that
Aunt Mercy was to take care of me-"
II want nothing with you," said Fos-
ter. 81 will slave myself to death for
you. l will rejoice to do it."
80, l knew it would be so," replied
the girl, almost faint with joy and love.
II knew you would be true to me. l
knew how grand you were"
When they looked out upon the
earth, after this scene, during which
they had been conscious of nothing but
each other, the storm had fed beyond
verdant hills, and a rainbow spanned
all the visible landscape, seeming to
them indeed a bow of promise.
80, we can surely be happy in such
a world as this" said Bessie, her face
colored and Illuminated by youth, hope,
and love.
"We will find cloud castle some
WHERE" responded the young man,
pointing to the western sky, piled with
purple and crimson.
Bessie was about to accompany him
to the gate on his departure, as was her
simple and affectiOnate custom, when a
voice called her up stairs.
30 dear" she exclaimed, pettishly.
'It seems as if ] couldn't have a mo-
ment's peace. Good by, my darling "
During the close of that day, at the
hour which in Barham was known as
"early candle-lighting," the Lauson
tragedy began to take form. The mys-
tSrious shadow which vaguely announc-
ed its on-coming was the disappearance
from the family ken of that lighthouse
of regularity, that fast-rooted monu-
ment of strict habit, Aunt Mercy. The
kerosene lamp that had SO long beamed
upon her darnings aud mendings, or up
on her more aesthetic labors in behalf of
the Barham sewing society, or upon the
open yellow pages of her Scotts Com
mentary and Baxter's Saints Rest, now
hared distractedly about the sitting
room, as if in amazement at her ab-
sense. Nowhere was seen her tall, thin,
hard form, the truthful outward express
sion of her lean, and sickly soul no.
where was heard the afflicted squeak Of
her broad calf-skin shoes, ,symbolical of
the worryings of her fretful conscience.
The doors which she habitually shut to
keep out the nigh ht-draughts remained
free to swing, and, if they could find an
aiding hand or breeze, to bang, in Gel
ebration of their independence. The
dog might wag his tail in wonder
through the parlor, and the cat might
profane the sofa with his stretchiDgs and
slumbers.
AT first the absence Of Aunt Mercy
merely excited such pleasant considera-
tions as these The fact was accepted
as a relief from burdens; it tended to-
wards liberty and jocoSeness of spirit.
The honest and well-meaning and de-
vout woman had been the censor of the
family, and, next to the iron-headed
Squire, its dictator. Bessie might dance
alone about the sober rooms, and play
operate airs and waltzes upon her much.
neglected piano, without being called
upon to assume sackcloth and ashes for
her levity. The cheerful life which
sesmed to enter the house because Aunt
Mercy had left it was a severe COM
meDtary on the sombre and unlovely
character which her diseased sense Of
duty had driven her to give to her un-
questionably sincere religious senti.
ment. 1t limited that, if she should be
taken altogether away from the family,
her loss would awaken little mourning,
and would soon be forgotten.
Presently, however, this persistent