Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1871-08-17

/ crushed down beneath the superincum-
bent weight Of evil ; but while the human
heart hath pulsations of life, it may be
probed to the fountain of good, and in its
darkest night it shall yield flashes Of
generous impulse.
DR.. Grahsm-or "Uncle Ralph" as
Mary called him-had been the family
physician when she was babe, and he
was a man of sense as we'll as of expert
ence and skill. Lately he had been called
to prescribe for Allan, who was troubled
more and more with that uncomfortable
throbbing of the heart. .s
I cannot tell what Uncle Ralph really
| thought. He may have thought just as
another experienced physician would
have thougbt-that the palpitation was
simply the result of indigestion and that
the dull pain came from pneumogastric
sympathy; and, further, that the cause of
the whole lay in nervous arrangement
consequent upon mental care and labor.
But, be that as it may, he resolved that
he would make use of Allan's heart in I'M
locking the heart of his wife.
"Uncle Ralph, what do you really think
of Allan?"
"Msry, do you want me to tell you the
truth ?" He spoke very solemnly, and
with grave look.
"The truth, uncle ?" she repeated, with
startled expression. "You do not think
there is anything serious "
"What can be more serious that dis
ease of the heart p
"But Allan has no such thing"
"My dear girl, you must not deceive
yourself. You may not keep Allan long
with you. Excessive labor-ambition to
achieve great results-and want of
healthful recreation, have strained his
heart more than it will bear. I tell you
plainly, Allan is dying"
"Dying?"
'Yes-surely. 1t is but question of
time. We may save him to prolonged
and useful life if we can can remove the
cause of the disease. Have you not OBJ
served how pale and thin he has grown !?
and have you not marked how often the
pain comes from his hearth Alas poor
Allan I dare not tell him how near he
is to the brink I spoke with him once
"a few days ago-upon the subject. l
told him there was danger"
"You told him? And how did it affect
him ?"
HE only smiled and shook his head"
SmiledP"
"Yes-but with tears in his eyes. He
said if he could only leave his wife and
child comfortably provided for. he should
be willing to go. That was when he had
a great pain in his heart"
Mary rose and went and placed her
hand on the doctors shoulder
"Uncle Ralph-do you-do you-tell
me trHlyi'
Il only tell you what fear, my child.
l tell you what is possible-nay, inevita-
BILE, sooner or later, if Allan continues
to be overworked. But do not tell him
what I told you, it might break him down
at once. He must not fail and die now,
in the noontide of life, if mortal power
can save him. But, my little girl, you
must be prepared-the blow may fall at
any time. These hesrt troubles are
treaoherous. 1t is for you to make his
pillow smooth, and give him comfort for
the few short days that"
ooh, uucle-uncle, do not say sol Oh,
my soul Allan must not die Better,
thousand times, that I should go and
leave him TO use his bright aud useful
| life ~
DR.. Graham drew his weeping niece to
his bosom, and gently whispered:
"Stay with, him Mary, and give him
strength, and hope, and courage. While
I give him such medicine a. [ have to-
give, be it yours to draw him from his
labors, when you can, and make the bur
den light. Let us do this and leave the
rest with God"
After her uncle had gone. Mary moved
about the house like one awakened from
a troubled dream, gathering up the
threads of the past, aud weaving them
into the wool of the present How the
old love burned mp, and how dear to her
were the memories of the brighter times
Her husband dying ?-oh, it could not be
it should not bel!
And yet-and yet-what could she do
if the die were fatally cast? All b.! SheI
could bless him while he lived. Ye', she
could do that.
That evening, when Allan Moore re-
turned to bis home, his wife met him in
the hall, and put her hands up to his
shoulders and then kissed him.
"Yeu are late, Allan, dinner has been
waiting for you"
"But You have not waited, Mary ?"
"Yes, Allan, could not eat alone this
evening"
"You could not?'
He spoke like one in a dream.
mo. I wanted the light of other
times, Atlantic light which only your
presence can give.
Aud she helped him to remove his over
coat, and when he pulled off his boots,
and put on the slippers, which she had
ready for him, she led the way to the din
ing room.
IL l. IL
bright and clean; the china, drinking the
Rsslight into the translucent substance !;
the napkins, white, like snow ; and the
food as she knew be preferred it; and,
above all, her own face, wearing a smile
of the old sweetness, presiding over the
scene.
Was he dreaming, or was it real? AL
most afraid to speak, lest breath might
dispel the happy illusion, be drank in the
joy OF the occasion. When the meal was
concluded, Allan rose from the table.
"Now, now, Allan. Where are you GO
ing ?"
ITO my own room, Mary. I have pa
pers to copy"
"Cannot another do your copying ?"
"These are papers which I dare not
trust to other eyes,"
"But you will trust me, Allan 7"
"Trust-you " He was in the dream
again.
eyes. If you will explain to me the
work. and leave them with me tomorrow.
will copy them for you. You know I
write WELL"
"Mary!"
"Oh, Allan my husband my own
trne love !'-she had now moved up and
laid her hand upon his shoulder-"you
are working too hard. If you will let me
help you, I will help you now; and by
snd-by you shall rest. We will go away
among the green fields, and the brooks,
and the hills"
"Mary! My darling What music is
this ?" He took her to bis bosom, with
his arms twined closely around her.
"Allan. I have been unmindful of yeur
good, aud have been very miserable
but it will be SO no more, if you will let
me help you; if you will give me back