The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1873-08-06

all It's worldly cares, has not lost
the freshness Oft love for holy
! nature. Tears roSo unblddcn To
my oycs rs L gazcd on tho dreamy
loyelinoss Of the landscape which
lay before mo, bathod in the gold.
cn light Of Sunsct--tcars that were
not all sorrowiul;' and memories
Of tho old dear days ut lIIdoun for
time dispollcd the recollection
OF many II heavy and scathing
trial which had como to nc during
the last sevon years. All, nc! /
was only five-and-twcnty, yet my
youth~timc seemed very far away
SO much had como and gone
in that seven years. The first
long voyage, tho Australian cx.
pcrienccs, which had promised
brightly at first, until II malignant
fever swept away my father, aunt
and uncle in fow days; tho sor-
rowful leaving Of our dead in thoir
lonely burial places in tho bush ;
and the subsequent return of my
widowed mother and myscll--a
second Naomi and Ruth-to tho
old country, still called home, tho
offering now no certain homo TO
either Of us; all this outline, filled
with crowd Of attendant details,
seemed to compress a lifo's history
into the space L havo mentioned.
And now my dear mother had
found homo with hor own kindred,
and the same rcfugo had been Of
forcd to mo; but my nature roso
in proud rebellion against Il lifo Of
dcpcndcncc on others. Consc-
quently [ had sought and obtain
cd situation as govorncss. My
new abode was in = picturesque
part Of Devonshiro, and something
in its bowcry lanes and sunny
fields reminded nc irrcsistibly of
my girlhood's home. [ was much
better walker than wore my little
pupils, and on the evening | have
mentioned | was on the way TO u dis
tant village church Git was Sun
day) in order to be present at the
evening service. Rising from tho
scat l had temporarily occupied
on fallen tree, | pursued my
road, and in duo time arrived at
tho sacred oditicc. | entered, and
was shown into a large, old fash
ioned, square pow. Tho oilicia-
ting Clergyman was II young man,
apcrtcct stranger to me, Of course.
L listened, earnestly at tilst, but
gradually with di trac d
thoughts, rs tho service proceeded,
until Il new consciousness sudden
~ aroused my whole nttcn ton.
Tho Introductory words which
preceded the sermon were pro
nounccd in u different voico-a
clear, full voice, which ran through
every chord Of my memory like IL
strain Of music.
L had boon sitting in a corner
of tho pow with my face turned
away from the pulpit, and now l
did not move. No look was mood
cd to assure mo whose voice it
was that was speaking, in the old
eloquent tones, those words of
comfort and counsel. Like flood
Of light, thore came upon my
spirit the joy and confidence Of
earlier years. l never for an in
stant thought that there could be
change in that noble, generous
nature and when at last tho pas.
tors voice ceased, I turned and
gazcd with loving reverence on
the face, (homcly perhaps, in tho
eyes Of others, but moro attract
i've than all tho world besides to
nc }, Of my truo and dcar friend,
John Owen.
As | turned, our eyes mot. In
spite Of my altered appearance,
my faded check, my heavy black
dress. | saw that his recognition
Of me was instantaneous. | left
tho church, but fingered in the
church.yard, for | was suro that
hc would join mo there. And |
was right.
Not many weeks aftor, tho Rov.
John Owen, rector Of WoodIoigh,
one OF tho richest livings in the
country, was calling at Harleston
hall, and took occasion to say
to my employer, II most kind and
ladylil<c woman, "Mrs. Bartram,
am going to request you to re-
lcasc Miss Gilbart from her en-
gagomcnt with you. have cstab-
lishcd a claim upon her, to which
no impediment is alleged, and this
is my third time Of asking" Ono
month later I was his wifo.