Northern Ohio journal. [volume] (Painesville, Ohio) 1872-1896, 1874-02-28

like most men. illness always made AL
wyn gentle. loving, child-like and good.
L had been sitting up with him I'LL
late at night, till after he had dropped
into his first sleep. Suddenly he started
out of it, moaning drowsily, Don't go
don't go Marjery.'
reused him, 1T is only a dream, Al
wyn, DEAR
He answered sharply, You are mis-
taken-I wish you would leave me. She
will not come because you are in the
room.'
/ was afraid he was delirious. My
looks must have grieved him; for after
minute he held out his hand.
q did not mean to be cross with you,
Charlotte. You are very good TO me.
Nobody ever loved me like you, ex-
cept-'
L knew whom he meant.
After a while, lying broad awake, and
speaking in rational tone, without any
excitement, he said to me: ''Sister,
will tell you something which / never
intended to tell any one. 1t might be
thought delusion. piece of ownrighi
insanity on my part, but it is as true as
that You are sitting here. You wilt not
mention it again 2"
SIS it likely, when you desire me not ?
sWell, then, listen. Every might
since the first night we came back into
this house L have seen. the momenb
put the candle out, her-Marjory'-(he
stopped )-smy dearswife Marjory, sit
ting where you sit. with her hand laid
| on her own pfllow-what used to be hel
own-looking at me. If 1 move, she
vanishes-but if 1 lie quiet, she sits
there; sometimes all night long. Now
do you believe me?'
/ paused a minute, then said, Yes,
do. That is, believe it to be possible.
think any woman who knows what
it is to love as Marjory loved my brother,
will likewise allow that such thing is
at least possible.
what does she look like?'
Herself, exactly. But more as she
used to look as a girl, before-before
married her,
Does she ever speak?'
Never
He lay quiet a few minutes, then
broke out into sort of moan. sOh, my
poor Marjory, what blind fool was I.
Sometimes, l fancy, she felt the truth
though, thank God she never knew it.
For I had not dared to tell him the
terrible act, which, in spite of the doc
tors positive declaration that she must
inevitably have died in childbirth, often
made me feel as if were my sisters
murderess.
Charlotte, do you think she knows ]
love her nOw?'
Il do think it,
1 wept; 1 could not but weep. II
seemed so sad and strange that this loye,
the one hope and desire of her existence,
should only have come after she had
died Yet, poor Marjory, she might
have thought it worth dying for!
Our conversation ceased. NY brother
never recurred to it any more than if it
had happened in dream of the night OF
delirium during his illness.
do not know how long this delusion
or Observation-Disclosures it may be
called-lasted. In a few months my
brother had become such quiet, grave,
man, wholly absorbed in business, that
any one would have thought him the
last person in the world to be subject to
superstitious fancy.
His character totally changed. From
having been transparent as daylight
and gay as sunshine, he grew reserved,
subdued, sometimes even cold-but cold
one who liked or loved him, he seemed
morbidly anxious to return every
grain of that liking or loving. He was
solicitously kind, even to a fault. No
creature heard from him sharp or an
cry word-none ever knew him pursue
his own comfort or pleasure in prefer
ence to theirs.
We lived in the house at Kensington
the house where he had first brought
his bride, and where he had come back,
a solitary widower-for seven years. A
peaceful life it was, without any events
of any kind.
Ny brother was now thirty-two years
old.