The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1871-09-07
SENTIMENT AND ACTION
CONTINUED FROM LAST WEEK.)

CONTINUED FROM LAST WEEK.
The next day he came down to Oak
field, battered and jadcd, and out Of
humor enough. Everything had been
arranged for the funeral, which YVES to
take place tomorrow by his wish j.; and
the house WIS full of that terrible still
ness which the pr, sence Of death brings
with it-a solemn, unearthly stillDess-
the shadow OF Gods hand. There was
the close smell throughout, which a
single days wart of air and sunshine
will produce, mingled with the scent of
lavender and dried rose leaves, and dy-
ing flowers, generally. The servants
moved about gently and spoke in whis-
pers; Magdalen sat attempting to work
sometimes taking up book as if to
Resd-but her tears fell over her hands
Instead, aud blotted out the page. Paul
wandered mournfully from room to
Room, his sympathy falling far short of
Magdalen's sorrow "But," as she said
to herself, "who could console her p
no one in the world!" Whom, in the
midst Of the passionate anguish and the
solemn silence that sat side by side, like
grim angels by the threshold, a carriage
rolled noisily to the door, aud Andrews
voice was heard, swearing at the man
for having driven past the hall-step.
Dressed with every attribute of the
man ofslang vice, loud in voice, noisy,
rough, and vulgar in manner, his once
handsome face lined and attenuatcd by
dissipation, and all his intellect put into
the exaggeration Of vulgarity, Andrew
entered tho ball, where Paul and Mag
dalen waited to receive him. He made
40 attempt, no feiut, at sympathy. or
sorrow. So far, at least, he was, honest:
But how frightful it was to her who
had sat SO many hours by that dying
man, till her whole soul had become IN,
terpenetrated by his-how terrible it
Vas to have this gross, rude shadow
flung between her sorrow and that sa-
cred memory-to feel the spiritual death
which, in her brothers presence, re-
moved her father again from her The
Loneliness Of The first hours Of her or.
phanhood was nothing compared to the
sickening loneliness of ber feeling now.
Tho coarsencss Of Indifference with
which he asked, first broadly, and then
in detail, for information of his fathers
last moments,-the co]dness with which
he listened, rubbing his, eyes and yawn-
ing noisily,, when sho told him such
and such facts as for the mere sympathy
Of . common humanity would have
touched the heart even of stranger
the very boast Of careleesness 10 every
gesture; Longing against the chimney
piece; fllnging himself into an easy
chair, with one foot raised on his knee,
or else with one hand doubled against
his side, and the other playing with the
little dog-all was torture to Magda!en,
who felt that she also was included in
the shameful disgrace of her brother.
"Ah, aud so this is your Joe ?" he
asked, looking At Paul through his
half:shut eyes; then, turning to bis sis-
ter, he said, in loud whisper, II say,
Mag, there's not too much good stuff 10
HIM! He's a, 6ue lad as far as face
goes but hang me if l wasa't more Of
Z. map, ut fourteen: than he is now.
However, that's no affair Of mine."
II hope you will be good frieuds,"
sid Magdalen. choking, land that you
viii never have to regret your relation
ship."
'eTbat's a sensible speech, Mag, prop.
er to the occasion. I say, did tho old
boy like the match p
"Do you mean papa p said Magdalen,
very coldIy.
"Of course, I do" and Andrew
laughed. How loud and long his laugh
was! 1t chilled Magdalen's very beart
within her.
"Ob, Andrew, don't laugh now p
che cried, laying her hand on his arm.
ut terri6es and shocks me, when you
t..