The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1873-11-15

| known to Margaret; the fire in the CRATE
burneetl0w, and it made no difference to /
1.-the one occupant of the room as she
crouched on the bench, burying her head
1 in the arm-chair-for there were tears then
in the brown eyes, there was agony in the
tender heart left peculiarly alone. Thus
hhas MANY woman borne in secret the
Efweight of her individual sorrow, that she
might not add to the care of lover or hus-
I band one word or look which would make
him falter, and grown strong in her endur-
ing resolve to be brave for his sake
One yeari and in Lawyer Channings
study sits Roger Ford. The morning pa
per has fallen at his side, and on the table
lies the mail, but the letters remain un-
noticed, for he is solving question that
must be answered ere he leaves that
room.
# rom his pocket he takes tiny white
glove; very small it looks across his broad
palm. He lives over the hours of the pre-
vious evening /; is again in the parlors sur
rounded by the youth and beauty among
which he has so frequently mingled during
/ the winter; is once more at the side of
pretty Sophie Charming, turning her music
sheet. dancing with her, holding her .bou-
quet (his gift) and now he forgets the
throng around them and is talking of S1ge-
/ ing away - his year is completed, and in
! her fathers house he spends his last week.
guest. Itmay be emotion which causes the
| belle to bend her head, certainly her little
/ gloved hand trembles over his arm, her
voice lowers as she ldinents his departure:
+" 1t will be terribly lonely, and she will
miss him awfully. Oh she does not be-
i ieve in remembrances. or promises out
of sight, out of mind.'" So she seems ex-
tremely pensive during the remainder of
the evening. and he is just saying, 8 So
| phie," when some one claims her for a
| waltz, and Roger realizes how far he has
gone. That night he spies the tiny glove
on the stairs. and can he do more than pick
lit up? He wipes his heated brow, and in
so doing notices the name in the corner of
his handkerchief; his own name, and he
Irecollects it is exactly a year since that
i small parcel was slipped into his hand
How like Margaret the neat hemming and
delicate marking Somehow those two
4 souvenirs went into different pockets, and
all that night in visions he witnessed amost
confused conflict between white handker-
4 chiefs and soiled gloves. Probably with
the dawning of light the former would
have won the victory, if in going down to
4 breakfast Roger had not seen Sophie APP
pearfng prettier than ever in the midst OF
4 her company and so in her fathers study
he sat dreaming as other men have dreamt,
! swayed merely for the moment by a subtle
influence which some trivial incident shall
| dispel.
There was conversation in the adjoin-
ING parlor. and he heard his name. Could
that voice be Sophie's? those words hers
J 80 he's Just as foolish as the rest! Why
: my dear, l like Mr.. Ford well enough, and
: papa thinks he's perfection. | might pos
/ sibly spend tine end of my days with him
|: providing he'd let me do as pleased, If il
) / were not for an ancient mother and VERT
: able old maid of sister that he's got to
: take care of; and they'd be everlastingly
hanging around, for he adores them. O-
Ieourse he's in love with me, and actually
l thought meant what [ said last night
Yes, I've had my fun"
g. What a laugh followed the heartles:
5 swordsl the laugh which Roger had though
so musical.
t 1t was sufficient: for the first and las
1 time in his life he despised himself. From
the letters at his side he selected the ont
: that had never failed to come through al
S the weeks of that year-a quiet, happy let
: ter telling of the welcome awaiting him
S and o how full of true love it was! Woul(
Margaret have spoken so of his mother ant
= sister? No. i e
Very long seemed the journey home. 1
i was home where Margaret was, and h
: would go to her.
r Once more the fire burns brightly in th'
d little sitting-room; the clock which ha
0 chimed the flight of so many lonely hour
n / is covered with scarlet bitter-sweet berries
e ~Hew beautiful they are against the blacl
: marble!
e There stands the low rocker, and tn
b light of the study-lamp falls on the SAM
o worn work-basket. The armchair is M
longer vacant, while on Roger rests NJ
It shadow, for in his heart there reigns tn
a sunshine of love.
e He tells all to Margaret, even maxim!
n her smile over the battle of handkerchief
e and gloves.
al True Margaret for though she ha
+ heard of Rogers attentions to IaWye
Claiming daughter, shehas trusted him
s and looking down in her face-plain t.
d Eevery one eIse-he thinks it glorious to
y night.
Il Now she says:
ssRoger, before VIII comes in, I've a sur
IS prise for you. Poor old Mrs. Hart ha
p gone to her last home; I've taken he
u room and fitted up my larger one for you
ir mother and my mother, for your siste
# and mine. Since your fathers dealt
Ie they've been alone, and as soon as you ca
It 90 for them tomorrow I'll spare you
D dear) want them here. 1t has given m
sweet joy to do this for you. Hencefort
W thy people shall be my people, thy Go
ot my God. s. -
# Well for us, my reader, if with Roge
,r Ford we have learned this lesson-that th
ID truest proof of love is not in dying, but j
y Living and doing for the dear one.-Heagt
a and Home.
II
le Silk Culture in America.
t,
Il / D.lP n " Ta.I,xr O. o,,;,, -,