The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1874-02-05


was an hour that you may see written here
On my forehead. here on M gray hair. l
was an old man then, for she told me nv
/ hopes were in ysin-I- must forbid them
hencelorth
"Men talk Ct love rs they talk Of money.
/ Men write eff iGVe as they write Of travels.
OF pleasures er pains. Some men eve,
laugh at love; but such men, in their ut
most hearts, abhor and curse themselves
. for tue words they utter, and lie in lone
sonle places among the beautiful things OF
existence, and perish OF h rst on the banks
of the purest fountain that flows into the
river Of life
"The memory of that beautiful woman
as she stood before me. with her white
hand laid on my shoulder, and her blue
desp eyes fixed on mine,-fxed in mine,
I for their light was in my brain and soul, =
that memory will not perish so long as
have my eyes or soul here or hereafter.
bowed my head and wept, and she never
shed one tear. | inplored, ard she was
calm. "No, no, no, that terrible word was
| repeated again, and again, and again.
"'Aud what shall do, whittier shall
60 for hope on earth? raid l.
"a nd she came close to lie, Philip, as |
stood with my head bent forward, and she
put her arm around my neck and whisper
ed, Love Glare, Stephen and her lips were
or mine one thrilling lnstant-and she was
gone.
And Glare stood ten PAGES from me,
with her head bowed over the rail; and when
it IVES all over, and | staggered toward her,
she took my hands IN hers, and held them
in close clasp, and said but ore word:
" .Stepheni'
My sister Clarer
"And then she wept. | never saw her
weep before, and now it was but for a
moment, snd she drew me away, and !
oboyed her
more than year passed with the swift,
ness of thought, and had never left the
seclusion of my country hcme. Ny own
! house and the rectory, those were the two
places between which my path now lay,
and beyond which it did not reach: Glare
left home in the early autumn to spend tbs
winter IN the city. Daring the year after
my parting from Lily i. would be vain to
: deny that | often REQUIRED to her last
words, sealed as they were with that last
thrilling kiss; aud when looked into the
face CT beautiful Care, it did not seem 80
very difficult 30 obey In the middle Of
! December | was called to the city bv
! peremptory business, and went, leaving my
home with reluctance, and intending to re
/ turn in a week
Il found my business more pcrplexine
/ than had anticipated, aud after few
/ days ! determined 70 look up Clare. Rely.
ing on my intimacy to pardon an evening
coil, went at late hour one evening, and
found myselfin q crowded room, having, as
+ NJ t"uh"i STUN 'tcu on an evening party
/ ! did not retreat, for the home Of my sis
ters's friend was one Of my oil homas il
( old times, and l was net disappointed n
my reception.
"Clare was tie cen re of :. brilliant circle
AMI at home as queen among her subjects
believe that a thrill of mcnentarv zeal
ously passed over me as | saw her-a sort
/ of regret that she who had seemed ALWAYS
7 to belong 10 me, should row be, in some
sense, the property Of the world, and
locked swiftly over the circle to see if there
/ was any one there on whom she would be
/ likely to waste one of her royal smiles
! But she sprang toward me With such mani.
! fest JOY in every feature, and gave me such
a welcome that my foolish Jealousy, if it
existed, was gone on the instant, and was
the enyied man of the night by all the
hangers on in the saloons of the tacinating
Mrs. Whitney
The hours sped swiftly Will dance and
song. 1t was rear midnight when | stood
with Clare in the library room at the rear
of the saloons, while all the party were
do n in the supper rooms. A servant en-
| tered with note, saying that it had been
brought by man, now at the street door,
with urgent haste. Stop, / will get the
note"
Wilson crossed the room, opened desk
and private drawer, and returned, bring
ing in his hand a small yellow note, stain
ed with that ineffaceable stain,-inefface-
bic from paper, cheek, or heart of man,
the traces of tears.
"They are not my tears, Philip. They
are Clare's."
"Clare, Clare. come to me before | die
David will bring you. Do you know, Glare,
where Stephen is Send him word to
come; to come quick, quick, Glare, for l
fear-I hope--yes, | hope / shall not see
the morning But oeme to night, Clare,
If you would see me, for God knows wheth-
or l shall net see the Christmas morning.
Lily"
1--WE We're wrapped in cloaks, and at the
front door in an instant
"You here, DaYid?"
"1es, sir. have never left Miss Lily
since you told me to stay with her."
He led US up one street and down an
other, until we came to an obscure street
running west from Broadway to the North
river, and to house half way down this,
at which he paused and knocked.
"Who' s'there p
"The doctor aud a nurse
did not know then, as have since
known, the appearance of the splendid
room into which we s1ed. 1t was hall
You know what that is. The upper por-
ton of the house was devoted to the pri-
vate rooms of Mr.. Ray and his family
The lower part was arranged in gambling
rooms, gorgeously furnished, in which we
heard tie sounds of the money on the boards,
and the quick commands of the banker,
succeeded by the silence that waits the turn
of the card. Passing through the hall and
sort of reception-room, we assembled a
broad fight Of stairs and entered room
that was dark and gloomy, and unmistak-
-.