Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1874-10-24

to such an extent that 1 grew nervous,
distracted and irritable, and pride and
pleasure alike went. [ began to shrink
with apprehension from my nightly
task. 1 found myself speculating on
the possibilities of failure, of mutila-
tion, of sudden death. Doubt of my
own powers tended towards real in
capacity. The terror of the letters on
the walls revived, and at sight of the
now-familiar name my heart would
throb violently, and my limbs tremble.
"If he would only absent himself for
once-for once only !" 1 found myself
repeating all day; and s"You will fail |!
you will fail ]" rang in my mind like
demon chorus.
There could be but one end to this.
At last it came. SOne night, as 1 was
nerving myself for the great leap Ga
dead silence and hush of expectation in
the house), and just as had gwen the
signal this man rose from his seat. His
doing SO attracted my gaze, my concen-
tration was lost, nv will was paralyzed.
The spring sent me flying into the air
there was cry, a crash, a surging as of
tumultuous in-rushing waves, and then
blank
After that night Azalea appeared no
more.
In the very clutch of death I was yet
spared my father had saved my life
but had received injuries which re-
suited in long and weary illness.
Happily my exertions had placed us in
comparative aff1uence, though the sue
cess had chiefly enriched the old
Frenchman, who had never failed, dur
ing my long illness, to call daily, leav-
ing me q flower and his card, until I
had whole packs of the latter on the
little table at my bedside.
When I began to recover we travelled,
and once I was Mortified at seeing on
the platform of a railway station, as we
dashed past, the white face of the man
who had waited to gloat over my death.
Eventually we settled down in little
midland village, where we were un-
known, and our antecedents unsus-
pected.
And SO the story of my life might
have ended, but that it CHANGED to me
to meet and favorably impress the son
of gentleman of that neighborhood.
He made me the offer of his hand.
With the memory of the past wildly
before me, l promptly refused. It was
not right, knew, that one who had
filled the compromising position I had
done should become the wife of man
of family and position. But he would
not be repulsed. Again and again he
urged his suit, till refusal became rude
ness, and there was but one thing left
for me to do. It was necessary to take
him into my confidence, and I did so.
Need I say that his amazement knew
no bounds =? He conld not for tho mo-
ment find words in which to give ex-
preston to it. When he did, it was
only to express his half-incredulity.
He had, himself, witnessed Azalea's ex-
ploits. And was it indeed woman?
And that woman?
"You see," I urged, "there is bar
rier between us which nothing can
overleap. Would to Heaven you could
have believed this, and spared me this
humiliation.
He took my hand.
Minnie" he said, "be my wife"
"No, no, ao," protested; "con-
slider your position, your family, the
friends it would estrange, the contempt
it would bring upon you. I dare notp
But my protestations were in vain.
He prevailed, because he lo4ed me,
and because returned that love, oh, so
truly, SO utterly! I became his happy
wife-happy, yes and yet one little
cloud would hover in the blue expanse
of my married life.
Never for one instant did Frank re-
proach me with the past never, that
could discern, did he shrink from al
lusion to it, as to a subject which we
could discuss freely and openly, with
out shame or regret. And yet I wor-
ried myself with the fear whether in
his heart of hearts he might not some
times regret the step that he had taken,
and whether he might not even uncon-
sciously come to regard me with less
respect, with less consideration than
those about him upon whose past there
was no shadow, and who had within
their hearts no secret. In all this I
deeply wronged him. His heart had
no such feeling the loyalty of his
affection was untainted by any such re-
proach. t.
[ came to know this in time for true
and certain. The cloud was lifted, and
went in day, in an hour-ay, in sim
gle minute. That minute shall never
forget. Our first baby child, our little
bright-eyed darling, lay upon my
knees, laughing, growing, and striving
to thrust its dimpled hand into its
mouth.
Frank bent over--the evening sun
shine on his curls.
"Baby must be christened soon,
DEAR" I said 4; "she must have
name, and we have never talked this
over"
"There was no need," he answered.
looked up.
What you have chosen, then p I
asked.
eyes, love"
"Oh, tell me tell me what are we
to call her ?"
He bent, kissing my brow, and with
smile that showed how well he knew
that he kissed away my hidden trouble,
answered:
"Azalea."
A Thief's Trick.