Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1872-04-25
CHAPTER XII.

"And I smiled to think Gods greatness flowed
round our incompleteness,
Round our restlessness, His rest"
RHYME OF THE DUCHESS MAY.
"weep no more lady: lady, weep no more,
Thy sorrow is in vain;
For violets plucked, the sweetest showers
Will ne'er make grow again"
A quiet autumn day in that quiet German
city-Munich.
/ 1t is lovely afternoon; sunshine every
where and in every heart. No wonder then
that ray of this universal brightness lit up
thesad white face of Mildred Weir.
She was leaning her elbow on the window
cushion, looking out upon the street below
the beautiful Ludwig Strasse-along which a
stream of pedestrians were now passing, going
to their homes and the frugal evening meal.
Market-women with great empty paniers,
wearing those odd but becoming Munich.caps
ofslver tissue; 'prentices in their shirtsleeves
students of the University with picturesque
velvet jackets and bright-colored cloaks; a
few soldiers in the white-and-blue Bavarian
uniform-all making up motley, strange,
yet beautiful scene
The brilliant Byzantine architecture which
characterized the Strasse, glowed in the even
ing light Just opposite was the University,
solemn, calm old building, in the courtyard
of which fountain splashed musically.
Mildred sighed as she looked down upon
the lovely picture spread before her eyes.
The six months which had elapsed since the
tragedy of Bayou La Fourche had not oblit-
Grated from her tenacious mind the terrible
details. When the intelligence had reached
the inmates Of Weir-wood-living their quiet
lives so long undisturbed by incident or acci-
dent-it seemed to them as if the very end
were come Day after day the ill-fated girl
who had been SO deceived-yet so loved-lay
in silent, voiceless anguish; her great woe
such as these intensely emotional natures
alone can experience-overwhelmed the frail
bark.
| GAN thy waves and pillows have gone over me-"
The cry went up perpetually from the strick-
en- spirit; but the pale lips were mute.
Sometimes she forgot all but his love. The
voice of music would call her name; the eyes
so beautiful and tender would beam upon her
from the broken phantasmagoria of haunt
ing dream. Then-the agony of waking!
But all this was growing fainter now. Far
removed by the tenderest care from every as
sociation which could revive that memory,
she had gradually rallied under the fearful
blow. Across the wide Atlantic through
sunny England-down' the storied Rhine-
they had come direct to Munich; and here,
surrounded by the most afectionate solicitude,
Mildred lived her new and strange life, as if
the Past were "dead Past" indeed.
A pleasant party they we're: Mrs. Weir
and her rsister-Agatha, Mildred, Kate and
Henriette Moreton, with Jack as Interpreter
and courier, and Colonel Meredith as "gener-
al superintendent" The latter had recovered
from the long and painful illness consequent
upon the shock of Waldemar's death. Occa-
sionally return of neuralgia affection rem
dered him an invalid; but usually he was
among the gayest of the party.
Miss Lyle, too, seemed to have developed an
unsuspected talent for amusement specially
that of excursion-making, and extempore cof-
fee.drinking at quaint, out-ofthe-way places
which Jack declared she conjured up at will
for the occasion. Always gentle and exquis'
itely sympathetic, aunt Agatha had became