The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-06-06

reached his destination. Sylvia hat
disappeared. Certainly she was here
when first I went to call Charlie
though she entirely declined to accom-
pany me on that mission. Has she
actually had the heart to go to bed
again ? I am not long left in doubt
AS We sit, not speaking, in the dawn o1
the summer morning, that seems te
have run half way to meet the so lately
gone evening, the door opens softly,
and she enters. She has been making
toilet; an embroidered wrapper EN-.
braces her form, and saffron ribbon is
twisted in her black hair. The ruling
passion strong in death mot her owe
death, but that of another person.
"Can I be Of any use ?" she says
looking mo Mrs. Scrope, how good
! of you to come to US in our trouble ]
had not an idea that you were here.''
I make signs to her cot to speak
and also that the roem is too confined
to admit of three nurses. She disap.
| pears. It is full morning before the
joyful sound that for hours We have
been straining our ears to catch greett
| them. The doctor has arrived. He
is dirty.looking little fellow; some
paltry apothecsry, probably, to whom
| were one in England, one would hard
ly intrust the care of a sick dog; bu
now, with what utter faith, with wha
intense and believing anxiety, do We
listen to his fiat!
ole says it is only q small blood
vessel, after ALL" I say, trying to speal
cteerfully, as 1 rejoio Charlie outside
tho door, and looking haegardly init
his still more hageard face, in the ear
ly splendor Of the strong young day
light. "Perhaps we have been max
ing ourselves too miserable. She is tt
be kept absolutely quiet ; only one per
son at time IN the room, and that on,
not to speak. She is to have oil sort
of nourishing things. Coed Heavens !!
(breaking off in a sort Of despair)
"where are they to come from-here
where there is nothing but spiced bee
as hard as shoe and skeleton fowls p
"Why did you bring her here 2" h
asks, in tone Of angry misery. over
you mad ? It was murder ~
"We did it for tho BEST" I answer
humbly; "the doctor recommended it
and she fancied it,"
| AS i'll luck will have it, next da,
there Is great yearly fete celebrated
in the village; stir and festal noise al
the long day in the crowded street ant
through the house; doors banging
loud voices laughing. We have triet
so earnestly to keep them quiet, but al
in vain. When one is merry with beer
and that one has holiday only twic,
or thrice a year, ono o-nnot always
every moment, bear in mind tho suffer
ings Of an unknown, unseen stranger
1t is drawing toward night again still
the clamor shows no symptoms of abat
ing. Now aud again I hear Madam.
Enderlin's low, kind voice, in earpes
remonstrance but even she remon
strates in vain The weather has grow,
hot. Lenore lies on her side, dozin!
uneasil7, moaning now and then. I 81
beside her, bathing her hot hands will
eau de Cologne and water, and give
fresh start of exusperation aod appre
hension at every fresh noise ti,a: pene
trates through the door, lett aiar to ad
NIT little air into the close room
where open windows are forbidden, a
least in the evening. Presently,
louder noise than any of the forme
ones reaches my tortured ears-a grea
and heavy stamping up the stairs-u]
I-up-up. 1t reaches the passage OF
which all Of our doors open. I stre.c1
my neck to see what it is, without NOV
ing, and to my horror, discover that j
is an Italian hurdy.gurdy man, witt
his instrument on his back. He is jus
stopping his hand to turn the handle
Wien I see Charlie rush wildly out Q
bis own door, with furious gestures t
stop him. The poor man is much SUI
prised. "What must not he play fo
the signora?"
A month has passed. Lenore
again up; lies on the sofa in the 81
ting-room, dressed ; again talks, some
times again laughs. ....'
"She wishes to see you," l say t
Mr.. Scrope, as We went in the passage
she is quite looking forward to it,
Will you 60 now?" Ny fingers are o
the door handle 1 halfturn it.
"Stay!" he cries, hastily, but in
low voice. putting his hand 90 mine t
check it; ~ am not ready. Wait
moment-tell me, how do I look ?"
."What do you mean p l cay, ha'
laughing. care you takicg leaf ou
of Sylvia's book 2"
"You know what I mean," he al
swers, impatiently. "Do 1 look chee'
ful-in good spirits-as if I had nott
ing on my mind ?"
] scan his face doubtfully; I canno
answer in the affirmative.
"Her eyes look me through an