Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1874-03-07

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the horizon might be the ship that
heart sore Alice was longing to see.
He had been very good; he had not
written to her sister-she had forbid
den him to do so, and he had obeyed
her; and yet If he knew how she
longed to hear he was safe-after
all, it was better not.
| Mr.. loft was breaking a little,
people said. He was no longer as
active as he had been only a short
year since. He rarely came down
into the town now, and when he did
1t was pitiable to see him toiling up
the hill, making believe that the as
cent was not painful to him. He
had been used to come each morn
ing to the reading room; but now
he had given that up, and had The
Times sent to him the next day af-
ter publication.
One summer evening-heT hus-
band had been poorly all day, and
Alice had been constantly occupied
in attending to him, but now he had
1 gone off to sleep-she put on her
things and went down into the town
to make a few purchases, intending
to spend half an hour with Mrs. EN-
lyn, to enjoy a gossip with that live
ly, conversible lady.
Down the hill she went, the cool
sea breeze tanning her parched
cheeks. The evening was divine,
and the sea was stretched before her
in long golden swaths, the murmur
of it sounding gently in her ears.
Ships were stirring-some outbound
were heaving at their anchors, and
the well remembered sailors song
came softly over the waters; some
homeward bound were making for
their anchoring grounds, with full
bellied sails. She strained her eyes
and fancied that now this and now
that might be the long expected
Peruvia. But no, there could be no
doubt then; her heart would tell her
at once, ''That is Williams ship!"
The sun was getting low, and she
fastened quickly down the hill. She
met sundry townspeople she knew
bv sight, and nodded to them good
natured greeting; they turned and
looked at her, and watched her
down the hill. "How rade people
are getting" she thought. "There
was a time when these would all
have touched their hats to the wife
of the ship-owner-"
At each shop she visited she no.
ticed something strange about the
people. Mr.. Meagre, the draper,
came out of his little box and stared
at her, and Mrs. Meagre's stony
visage appeared over the glass door
sternly regarding her. 1t was the
same at the other shops. Every
body looked queer.
'imagination!" she told herself.
/ feel altogether strange, andI find
my own feelings reflected in other
peoples faces. Here comes Mrs.
Emlyn."
Mrs, Emlyn came up to her, and
looked at her with vacant, un-
recognizing gaze.
'sMrs. Emlyn," she cried, show
fortunate am to have met you!"
The lady gathered together her
skirts and passed coldly on.
"Oh, what have Idone-what is
the mstter?' cried Alice. She felt
faint and giddy; something dreadful
had happened. The air grew heavy
and thick; all the houses in the red
quaint High street seemed to blink
at her. She was as if in a dream,
when the last trumpet seems to
sound, and the universe quakes
around. But it was nothing; Mrs.
Emlyn was often queer.
But she turned round and made
her way home. Her husband
was awake and crying for her
like a sick child. She could do
nothing to night, but in the morn
ing she would go down into the
town and get to the bottom of this
mystery. if it were mystery, and
not all delusion. -.........
Next morning Mr.. loft was bet
ter-much better; cheerful and CHR
rupy. He had his breakfast in bed,
however, and Alice took it up to
him. He was quite affectionate
over his feast, and loving over his
egg, and by noon he was down
stairs in the sitting-room, grumbllng
because the Times haden't come.
'1t is here now, Richard" said his
wife, bringing him the great broad
sheet. She left him to his paper
and went on her way about house
hold matters. Bye and bye, she
heard a strange sound in the parlOr
as if something had fallen. She ran
into the room; Mr.. loft was on the
floor in a heap against his easy chair
He had fallen in a fit; the paper
was scrunched up in his hand.
A strange pang shot through her.
Grief, remorse, expectation, flash
of hope that would not be repressed.
In a moment she was herself again.
She laid him gently along the floor,
rang the bell violently for assistance,
undid his necktie and the front of his
shirt, chafed his temples and hands.
Servants came and she sent off for
the doctor. She moistened his lips
with brandy. He revived.
Strangely he shrunk away from
her-would not suffer her to touch
him; the gardener had come in to
help, and, with his assistance, the
old man made his way to his bed
room.
Alice was wounded and amazed;
but she had heard of sick people
suddenly taking fancies against
those they loved best. She went to
the door to see if the doctor was
coming. Mr.. Emlyn, the lawyer,
was walking up the hill, newspa-
per under his arm. He looked stern
ly at her as he approached.
81 must see Mr.. loft" said be as
he reached the door.
"You cannot see him; he is very
ILL.," said Alice.
The window of Mr.. Toft's room
i