The weekly standard., 1870-08-10

loit, but oftcncr for torture ut slow fires.
don't know when it first dawncd on NE
that not Lancelot nor another, but just Ed
ward Clifton, would be Mary Summers ''man
of men, till the day of her death.
Who vcileth love, must first have vanquished
Fate,
sings Jean Ingelow; but love is easily vciied
from its object.
To Edward Clifton there was but cne
woman in the world; all the rest were mere
lay figures; and in the blindness peculiar to
his sex, he took Mary for the confidante
and helper of his wooing. have no donbt
that she gave him her best aid and counsel
in the matter, crushing her own heart all
the time in the high Roman manner. In
some of these plain, warm-hearted women
there is talent for martyrdom, equalled
only by some of those nld saints who died
for the faith
Edward had another friend at court in
the widow Bourne, but nothing ever moved
Diana from her first gentle yet firm refusal
to hear the subject of his love mentioned in
her hearing.
Mrs Bourne forced to silence with Diana,
did so dilate upon the subject with every
body else, that all Weston was committed
to one side or the other.
To look. at young Clifton was almost to
love him; but Diana had never looked at
him, or any other man, with womanly eyes
She had Joined the church in her youth,
though the elders shook their heads over
her experience" and no nun in her cell
ever had life of more ritualistic devotion
than Diana in the last two years of her
mothers life.
Edward had meantime graduated from
college and the law school, and had taken
an Office for himself in the city.
With every visit to Weston, he took care
to renew his tacit attentions to Diana
Bourne, but devout Catholic might as
well have prayed to the picture of his IA
vorite Madonna with the hope of recogni
ton.
The widow Bourne was o woman OF eN-
traordinary patience; she kept silence until
she lay on her deathbed; then she sent for
Edward, and placing Diana's hand in his,
did so wrestle with her for the promise
which would assure her of her darlings
comfortable provision through life, that
Diana yielded at last and gave the promise
to marry him.
The betrothal had been too solemn 10 be
evaded, and the wedding followed soon af-
ter In the next year Mary Summers lost
father and mother, and the Cliftons gave
her warm invitation to live with them,
but could easily understand how impossi
BILE it would be for her to endure life under
their roof To fill up her empty days, she
began to teach school, As if this were not
enough to ease her sore heart, she gradually
took upon herself the duties without the
dress of Sister of Charity. She could
teach all day and watch all night, and never
seem conscious of fatigue
Mr.. Clifton spent day or two with his
parents every year, but his wife never came
with him They had been married seven
years when he was appointed Judge, and
came back to Weston to spend the rest of
his life.
All who remembered Diana Bourne look
ed long at the graceful woman who walked
up the aisle of our old church the first Sun
day after her coming home.
She was still painfully beautifully. but the
pain had deepcncd and darkened till the
beauty was that of a lost spirit, not wicked,
but despairing.
MIR. Clifton led little girl 10y the hand,
the image of himself, and it was he who
lifted her to a seat, and kept her quiet with
constant attention; the mother seemed TN
conscious of their existence.
Mary Sumner had one glimpse of her
heart at this time which filled her with the
deepest pity.
'You ought to be very happy in your
children, - she said to Diana, when the nurse
brought in the baby FOR her to see
Mamma is always saying her prfyers
she don't care for u.s." said the Tttld girl,
suddenly leaving her play.
Diana's face flushed crimson and then
overfowed with tears.
"No; am not happy in my children.
am unworthy the care of their souls, and
count it SIN to have given them BIRTH"
81 don't care for my soul, if she would
only love me-" said the child, pitifully, as
she turned again to her dolls.
AZ ought to have been born in the Romish
faith," said Diana; 81 should have taken
the veil and found the only happiness pos
sible to me-
"One sometimes takes up prickly duty
and finds happiness on the other side of it.
You cannot well be a Protestant nun"
mo; these old reformers made no pro-
vision for a temperament like mine"
Because, happily, it is one in thousand.
1 suppose old Luther thought with his coun-
tryman that