The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-10-23

the we-i ,.ind brought her his whisper
ed vows; the moonlight seemed but to
cast shadows which might be his. 1t
was hard to accept life without him.
Emily had never met pain before; it
came with its usual intensity to the
young and strong. She sought to es-
cape it, to believe in him, to forgive
him; and she would have done SO to the
day of her death had not a newspaper
fallen into her hand with the news of
his marriage-yes, so soon, too! All,
Horace, you might have waited!
Trembllngly old Thomas looked on
the surgical operation which he had per-
formed; sadly he watched the pale cheek
and the detected attitude as she sat, once
again his silent companion, in the old
library. He would have given all the
fortune that he had not had, twice over,
to hear her laugh; but it was too late.
Could we have forseen this, he would
not have frightened Horace Frazier
away. But, before year had passed, the
healthy and prosperous young girl began
to recover fron her heart break The
same temperament which had induced
her to throw "Thaddeus of Warsaw"
half across the room, in her excitement
at its rapidly-changing tone of joy and
despair, came to lIsf rescue. The unmit-
igated worthlessness of her late lovers
~, h1rray, -, 20 Ha- ola
she did not know the half That knowl
edge sometimes is a good medicine for
a heart diseased. Aunt Margare', too,
was evidently desiUusionee as could be
desired; but she never forgave Thomas
Yarn, nor invited him to the edge of a
chair, forever more, in her cool parlor.
Before three years had passed, Emily
had replaced Horace Frazier by far
better man. Thomas Yarn had kept his
secret, and had seen his Emily, as he be.
lieved, safe. He crept to the library not
often now, for his breath was getting
short, his heart beat painfully; he was
going down to that quiet resting-place,
by. the side of Mary, for which he had
long prayed. Deborah began to go over
to him, now, with comfortable soups and
encouraging wines. Excellent Deborah,
misnamed Doolittlel
Happiness did not harden that good
young heart, which had been such a dear
thing to Thomas Yarn. She never forgot
him, but even on her marriage-day sent
over to see if he could not come to the
wedding; but no, he was too feeble. De-
borah said he wowld sit up at the win
dow and see her go by!
So Emily, in her white robes, looked
up at the tavern window as she drove to
church, and kissed her white-gloved
hand to the faded figure who watched
her as she passed.
He had given Deborah message for
her, to be delivered when she came home
from her wedding.journey.
"Tell her." said he, "that she will find
my gift in the second volume of Scott's
"Commentaries," on the third shelf of
the library"
"Just write that down, Mr.. Yarn, if
you please; my memory amt what it
was," said Deborah.
Thomas Yarn wrote a neat hand. 1t
was the only thing he did neatly. He
wrote it, and added "among the wild
flowers"
And when the beautiful, proud, hap
py young bride came home, she went,
with her hand in her husbands, to see
the present. Aunt Margaret followed,
saying, "Poor Mr.. Yarn has saved lit
tie money, don't doubt, and he has Civ
en- it all to youl'
There were tears in EmiIy's bright
eyes. She did not follow Aunt Mar
garet's meaning. She was thinking of his
lonely lot, and of her own dear happi-
ness.
She opened the book, and there, with
some faded flowers, lay the folded paper.
She and Miss Margaret read it togeth-
er. They did not understand it until
Emily's husband interpreted it for them.
They had been living for three years
in Thomas Yarns house on suferance
He had been their host, knowing that at
any moment he could turn them out if
he chose.
He had not forgotten to add will of
his own, giving all the property once
again to Emily-the property he had
never touched.
"Where is he?" said Emily, wildly;
''let me go to him and tell him what 1
think of him!"
"Oh, my dear, hain't you heard?" said
Aunt Margaret. "He has been dead a
fortnight; he died on your wedding
day" NJ. E. w. S.