Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1871-05-24

were on clear day, distinctly visible from
the house
The month passed rapidly, as months al
ways do when people are absorbed Marie
was to marry the man of her own choosing,
and man that her parents would have cho-
sen for her, could their choice have COM
pretended the world. The love of Marie
Linden and George Percival was fat con-
tradiction to the old saying, that the course
CT true love never runs smooth. During
the two years engagement, no shadow bad
ever darkened their paradise-it had been
a clear sky, bright sunshine, from first to
last.
The 29th arrived, and the first part of
the programme, which had loag been ar
ranged, WIS carried out The ceremony
took place at 4 o'clock in the afternoon,
only few intimate friends being present
but there was to be bridal party in the
evening, and on the following day the bride
and groom were to start on their bridal
tour.
Nine o clock soon came, when the rooms
were filled with the beauty and aristoctacy
OF both town and country. Never was
there more beautiful bride than Marie
Percival. Never was there 4 happier groom
than her husband. Never was there a
gayer company than was assembled that
night under Mr.. Lindens roof Yet most
of the guests have probably retained only
such recollection of the evening as an un-
usually pleasant party might leave upon the
mind
But for me, it is branded on my memory
with strength which years have had no
power to dim. The almost summer warmth
of the night, the blue sky without cloud,
the stars, the full moon, which lit up the
old gray church, aud the two white columns.
Within there was the bewildering light, the
perfume of the flowers, the music of the
waltz and the rapid whirl of the walters,
as they doated past the open window, where
L stood gazing attentively upon the two
pictures-one without and one within. 1t
was there that Maria Joined me, chiding
me, in her pretty pirlish way, for not join
ing in the waltz. | told her that | had been
better entertained then, putting the lace
curtains further back, | drew her close TO
the window, and We stood there, hand clasp
ed IL hand, for at least five minutes; she
gazing out upon the beautiful night, talking
of q Gorge, aud of her expected trip, with
sometimes loving word for myself; /, ga
zing upon her, thinking how well her bri-
dal robe became her, when | saw the color
slowly fading out from her sweet face
thought it was the moonlight, and was GO
ing TO draw the curtains, when she s,opped
ME. Pointing to the monuments in the
which were as visible as at
mid day. How many are there p she said.
Two, dear" | answered You know
there nsrer were more"
Il count three" she said.
| turned MY eyes upon the monuments,
almost expecting to see third; but TO me
there were only two Yet [ felt the hand
which was clasped in mine grow cold and
rigid, while her face had become like the
marble upon which her eyes were so intent
was impossible. | entreated
her TO speak to me-it was Of no avail.
Thoroughly alarmed, said [ would call
Mr.. Percival.
No, no, not him" she answered, while
a perccptible shudder ran through her
frame.
But his name had reused her from her
strange lethargy, or trance, or whatever it
might have been.
Il was reading the Words she said.
"What words, Marie?' | answered
Y ou know the words on the monuments
and if you did not, you could not read them
at such distance
She replied, Il am speaking of the third
one :; it is taller than the other two, and the
words are SO distinct: Sacred to the mem
Dry of Marie Percival, who died February
9TH, lS-, aged nineteen years and eleven
mouths. "
Hush, Marie - said Il cannot hear
you talk so; and happily for ME, Mr. Per-
ciyal, who was booking for his bride, discov
cred her at This moment. A few rapid steps
brought him to her side.
''Why, Marie, he said, you are as pale
as one of Horace Walpole's ghosts-bah !
it is this ghasty moonlight ~
He drew the curtains together. and saw
he color come back to her face as he bore |
her away. But | knew it had gonn from |!
mine. knew there was an unearthly pal |,
or on my own face, as | sat there with my
pack to the moonlight; and still the musi |
,ians played ont was Weber's waltz, and /
t seemed as if the waltzers would never |
ire my brain reeied and circled and quiv- /
red, and still they played on, and still the /
waltzcd-then Marie and her hus-
,and foated by. the merriest among them
H.
AR the victim of dream | said. Did
Marie Percival stand by my side a moment
Igo, reading the inscription upon her own
omb? was that true2 or is this true? for
1t that moment 1t did not seem to me that
both could be true Just as | was losing
ne power to solve this or any other ques-
ION, the waltz ended and supper followed.
shortly after the party broke up, and Marie
-I