The weekly standard., 1870-08-10

forget in this world Or the next.
aYou have been my only friend, and
will speak the truth in this last time that we
shall ever meet He said must leave the
children; but know that it is my duty to
take them with me- | ,. ~
| "She gave me an imploring look, but
| clasped the baby tight to my breast, while
Nellie held by my dress as for her life, and
| without word more we were left alone.
"I heard whispering below; the man
seemed to urge something. and his foot was
on the stairs; but Sister Lois said, No; it
| is useless to try violence on that woman. /
know her too well. Well manage it some
other way And they drove of.
"There was not another soul in the house.
so thorough had been Diana's preparations
"Jhdge Clifton came home at midnight,
and the servants about the same time. He
had truly given his consent to his wife's
leaving her home, but had no idea that it
was to be SO soon. He was deeply moved
by her per6dy toward him in trying to carry
off the children.
,aIfelt that no comfort or sympathy could
reach grief like his, and I went home as
soon Is could leave the children"
That was the last time we spoke OF DIANA
to each other; bu: others could never spare
her. She died to the world and to her
friends from that tS1pment:
took Tie ehildrehs2 y his mother. 1t is said
! that Hss 5eyfrgy his profession wore
upon him f,a p.,grief, n II were new
certainly addeNn Nne 1sdeeper shadow to the
harassed and b{resY expression which had
grown over his As, soon after his marriage.
and on his own fairs he maintained abso-
lutte silence.
When Mrs. Clifton's year of probation had
nearly passed, curiosity rose again as to the
resultof her experiment. One morning I
took q letter from the Office for Mary Sum-
ner and carried it to her school-room. She
read line or two, and then crushed the
letter IN her hand as If it had stnng her.
was npt cruel enough to stay and watch her,
though knew the letter was in Diana's
handwriting.
Soon after we heard that Mrs. Clifton had
joined herself to the Shakers for life, under
the name of Sister DIANA" and had gone
with Sister Lois to live at Bofeld, larger
and more central community.
The following summer was the most sick
ly time ever known in Weston. The factory
bread stopped with their work. Mary Sum-
ner gave herself no time for rest or sleep.
She was met more than once fast asleep ON
her way to school. 1t was useless to strive
with her. To all could say she would only
answer that such labor pbysiced her own
pain; and what that pain was l knew too
well.
She enlisted me one night to watch with
one of her fever patients and insisted on
her going to bed for the first half of the
night.
arranged her on sofa in another room
and returned to my watch, satisfied that
Mary's case needed the more careful treat
ment of the two.
She came in again at midnight, and offered
to relieve me. touched her gown, and it
felt damp.
did you get any sleepa asked with
sudden suspicion.
Not much. have been tossee the child
over the way" She gave me a. very wan
and tremulous smile, and fell back in
swoon so long and death-like that never
expected to see her move again. This was
the beginning of the same fever the seeds of
which she had caught in 80 many sick
rooms. aa
had her removed at once to this house,
and the fruit and other danties that were
brought to her by those whom she had sue
cored wouldshave sfeasted an army of con-
valescents, while she lay white and motion
less, unconscious OF the harvest her good
ness had sown.
Judge Clifton never came near her. or
seat any message, and I kept every one
away from her, as her fever talk often be-
trayed the hitherto safe-hidden passion of
her life.
The fever burned itself out very soon for
shear want of material 10 ravage, but it left
her in such mortal weakness that we watched
with trembling the flicker of life that re-
mained to her.
One sultry August night, I sat watching
the faint rise and fall Of the linen that lay
on her breast
"What did you do with the letter 2" she
asked suddenly.
what letter9"I said; ~ have seen
none.n
Thenit's in the dress wore when was
taken with the fever
She gave feeble sigh of satisfaction
when placed it in her hand, and held it
tight for safe keeping.
The silence grew more and more Oppres-
sive. With Mary's life for my text, 1 preach
ed sermon to myself on the general un-
comfortablencss Of every worldly arrange.
ment, and my argument was so conclusive
that almost came to justify Diana Bourne
in casting away her duty for what would
give her happiness.
I heard the front door open and shut soft
ly, and on the stairs / met Judge Clifton.
There was no sign of greeting on his side;
his hand shook as he grasped my wrist.
They tell me that Mary Summer cannot
live o week; is it true?"
Mo, Mr.. Clifton; she is very weak, but l
think not dying"
The deyout thankiulness in his face salts
fed even my jealousy of Mary's secret. I
felt that should do well to betlay it.
~ have been out OF town for several
weeks" he went on hurriedly. II am free
now to give my life to her if she will take
it. Viii you let me sec her?'
reflected that Joy rarely kills anybody;
and if it should, one ought to be thankful
to get ones release in that way. So l led
Judge Clifton to the door of the room I had
left, and then sat down on the stairs to CRY
it out in peace.
He went away after awhile in silence.
Mary lay all night with shaded eyes, saying
once when pressed her hand to be sure she
was alive, You may read the letter now, if
you ike*
1t was from Diana, of course; an explana-
tion of hX motives in forsaking the VOW she
had take Night years before, so clear and
convnci bat I threw no more stones
at her fl at hour.
The iefkS which stung Mary SO deeply
must yho this:
Cd @ho was once my husband
should lsiu to take the place which
have abS xhed, and to,be mother to bis
children, my sake do not refuse. 1 am
happy at ast in this walk which have
chosen, between work and prayer; but I
can never condemn you for being happy in
your own way"
Mary came slowly back to health, carry
ing her new happiness tendcrly in her heart,
as if it were half sorrow. Judge Clifton's
first bride had fairer face, but the plain
cap OF q Shakeress harmonized better with
its classic GOODNESS than lace and orange
blossoms.
The genial expression of his boyhood has
returned to his middle aged face, and Mary
Clifton, III becoming a stepmother, still
holds to her vocation of Sister of Charity.
but suppose" said my niece Hester,
looking up, as finished my story, that the
first Mrs. Clifton should get tired of the
Shakers, and come back after all Z"
My DEAR" said gravely, lone may sup
pose dreadful things when one is young;
but after forty one is content to wait till
they happen" W. A. THOMPSON.
HOPEFUL SIGNs.-In the south there are
such signs as give hope and encouragement
to the people of that section and urge them
on with renewed hearts to efforts to redeem
| themselves from the thraldom of carpet bag
and scallawae misrule.-M Y. Democrat
| Just: so. Three signs" left Fortress
| Monroe IN TueSdov in tbe shane of thrna