Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1871-08-31

mon Welch had read from the frs
every heartbeat; and, reading, Sa
tan had suggested to him plan BY
which he might get rid Of this wo'
man who had never loved him.. Sc
he looked on coolly as Mephistophe
les; treated his wife with little
more transparent contempt, a little
more OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES than usu.
al: and, finally, when he thought
matters were ripe, went away, with
some parade Of preparation, to be
gone d week. it r.
During his absence, Hampton came
to the house daily, as indeed, he had
done before. After all he had seen,
not to offer his sympathy was impos.
'sible. And with that, and. despite
+ all prudence, came the confession oi
his love: such a love as Agnes Welch
had hungered and waited for all the
years of her life. They talked about
it always, however, as something that
might have been; a dream whose
hour was past, until the very last day
of Solomon Welch's absence, the af-
ternoon on the morrow of which he
was to return. Then, Hampton scarce
ly knew how himself, bolder words
came to his lips; a hurried whisper
about going away, passionate pray
er that she would 60 with him, vows
of constancy which should never
fail, love which would last unto
death, and after it.
And Agnes listened till he ceased ;
too sad, too humble, too heart-broken
to resent.it Immediately. Then she
rose and said, "God help us both
We must part now, never to meet
again. -,
r; In vain he implored. She rose,
white as death, but resolute, and tore
herself away.
Hampton, following her to the door.
You can't be SO cruel. I will come
tomorrow for my answer" +"
In the morning he came, came to
a silent house, at whose crape-hung
door he dared not ring. But Agnes
maid saw him, and came down to
him with her story of woe. She had
gone into Mrs. Welch's room that
morning, and found her sitting mo-
tionless before the table at which she
had been writing. A moment more,
and she had discovered that her mis-
tress was dead. She had seen that
the note, on which the cold hand
rested, was addressedto him; and -ta-
ken it away before she called any
one. She put it into his hand'as she
spoke. His fingers closed on it me-
chanically, and he asked, with sort
of petri6ed composure, if they were
sure she was dead, if there was no
hope.
"None at ALL" the girl answered.
eve have had two doctors here, and
they say it was disease of the heart;
and one Of them, old DR.. Stone, re-
members that her mother died just
so. It ran in the mothers family,
he said, this sort of disease: None
of them could stand trouble long,
and heaven knows she has had trou-
BILE enough, poor lady
"Can see her just once p
The girl let him in, she said after
ward, out of pity. She was afraid
he would go crazy, his face was SO
white and still. So she opened the
door and beckoned him up stairs. He
went in alone where she lay-the
woman for whom he had been pre-
pared to sacrifice all the rest of his
life; she, with the long lashes rest
ing on her marble cheeks, the dark
hair weeping back over the pillows,
the still, noble features, the stirless
hands. Cold, dumb despair changed
to living agony as he looked.
He bent down over her. In life
he had never once kissed those lips,
and now they would not thrill or
culver at his pressure. But he kiss
ed them, long and wildly. Alive,
she had been beyond his reach dead, !,
if not his, she was no others. He
kissed the cold, still face with lips
that would never again touch any
woman's, after this last farewell of
his dead darling.
Then he went out, and took the
letter she had left for him into the
summer-house, where he had sat with
her the day before. It was dated
early in the morning; and in it she
told him that she had been awake
all night, praying for him and for
herself. She said she could not see
him-would not trust herself to see
him. In these few half frenzied SEN
tences he read how dear he was. But
she implored him, she commanded
him, as lie cared for what was more
than her life, her soul, to put land
and sea between them; for, so help
her God, she repeated, she would nev-
.er see him again.
And God had helped her-he had
called her home. Giles Hampton
knelt down in the still summer day,
and gave thanks to heaven that she
was dead dead ere she had done one
act for which she need to blush be-
fore angelic eyes; gone back, unstain-
ed, to the mothers bosom, the heav-
enly love. What if she had taken
with her the light Of his Life? What
suas life, this short life, that for it one
should put in peril whole eternity
The wrench, which parted her from
him, had parted her from earth as
we'll. No matter It was but the
Fathers way. of taking his tired child
home.
In this mood of strange and CRATE
full exaltation hours passed over him,
before he realized that there might
be those who would consider his
presence in that place uniting or in
trusive. He got up to 60. AS he
nassed ont of the grounds, he met