The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1871-12-09

own soul, ana new light came into
MS eyes, new vigor and manliness
INTO his life, He could think of Maud
Du Pays IN these days without pain.
There would always be in his heart
Tor her the tenderness good man
1eeis Tor woman once beloved. but
whether she was his or another's, he
| could reckon her loss or gain. among
the ''aH things he was contented to
leave with Heaven.'' He had heard
III the summer that she was to be mar
lied on Christmas, but he heard no
more about it afterwards. Her prep
alsetlons We're going on, he supposed,
but he seldom saw her. He had never
spoken with her more than a passing
good-day, since her engagement.
one afternoon, in November. he
brought home from the village post
oilice a bundle OF papers, his New
\ ork Daily among them. Sitting by
the fire anSs turning them over, his
/ eyes We're caught by the heading in
large letters: 13sothe3' Great Forgery.
lie began to read the article with the
Kind OF careless half interest people in
the country feel III the excitement OF
the city which caiinot touch them per-
sonally; but suddenly he started up,
clutclling the paper tight, and strain
y
his own vision. The name of the
criine-stained bank clerk. was Maud
Du Pays cousin and betrothed lover.
Thank Heaven that no mean selfish
hess stained his soul in that ho,ir. He
was honestly, and heartily. touched at
the thought OF MaId's sorrow. Poor
girl Ii there were only something
he couid do to aid or comfort her. lie
took his hat aiid Went ont, with some
vague purpose OF offering his help.
Which the fall wind shattered as it
blew across his brow. OF course there
was nothing he could do--he could not
even speak to her oil the subject. Her
/ grief would be s;lcred-and, had he
lot peen used this many "a month to
the idea that he Was nothing to her
any more?
still he went on, in a prrposeless
/! sort of way towards her house; went
Oh, until he saw Il slender figure ecnl-
| ing as If to meet him. under the leaf
| less maple boughs, over the dead and
rustiing leaves which lay thick upon
1 the wood path. lie had meant to pass
| with just a good evening" but she
| put out her hat,d to him. and he look
4 ed into the fair still face, the words
came before he knew it to his lips
Il have seen it all in the paper,
Maud, and am sorry
. Yes she said gently; I" 1t will
ruin him, l am afraid
And you? 1 thought most of you.
You We're to have been married SO
soon.f
:. Not to him. she said, lnurrietlly,
.'never to him. That was done With
two months ago. | had never loved
nim. 1t was vanity which made me
consent to marry him. lie was hand
some and gallant, and he promised
me all tie things of this life, but
/ found after awhile, that none of them
would pay me for myself, and l told
| him the truth"
Something in her hurried, earnest
! tones, Of the swift color of the cheek,
/ or her Shy, haif-veiled eyes, or all to-
gether. S;,vesRobert Maxwell courage,
| and he said holding her hand still
lit was because [ had none of the
good things OF this life to promise You,
! Matld, that dared hot to tell you how
dearly L loved you and always should.
/ You seem too bright and fair to settle
/ down here, just rs the wife OF Il Can
nonyille farmer
| >But if | like that best 20 she said
softly. and her hand stayed iii his.
And SO Robert Maxwell won his
| hearts desire.
There are SOME souls that like to
| think, dear children of the Heavenly
/ Father, who learn easily the lessons
He sets them; who do not need over
much Christening; ready to take the
! lowest seat ut feast or synagogue.
There is Il Divine and approving ten
derness III the voice which says !:
= Friends. come up Higher. =