The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1874-09-25

, CuuFCQs LII 60om0u CO1U anu Cu0CEI0eS
and for moment he paused perplexed
J What had become of her? Had sh'
tainted in the church? It had hardl,
J seemed possible. Hewent up the stairs
held the candle over his head, looked
} everywhere, called her name a. ain anC
again. Not sound in reply, save tht
echo of his own voice. In despair ht
walked up the broad aisle. Nothing
there. He went round to the sid aisle
and nearly cried out in terror. She lay
at full length upon the floor. The glare
of the fickering candle fell upon hel
pale face, and with cry of anguish ht
knelt by her side and felt her pulse.
Thank God She was not dead
Setting the candle in pew, he took hel
gently up in his arms, and, carrying hel
to the chancel, laid her down on the
step. A pew-cushion made her more
comfortable, and with his handkerchief
he brought water from the baptismai
fOunt and bathed her forehead. She
sighed little, and he hastily procured
the candle and lighted one of the cbancel
| lamps. He would call the watchman
and send for carriage and help. As
he started to go, she opened her eyes,
recognized him, smiled feebly, and then
closed them, as if in pain.
"What is it, love? Are you hurt
What ?"
GA sprain-my foot. I heard you
| coming on the stairs and l hid myself,
but must have tainted. Take off"
"Ah, yes,-the shoe"
She put her hand over her mouth as
he unfastened her gaiter. The foot was
swollen, and she cried out in spite of
barsa1f with tho roin
"We must get You home at once. I
will call carriage"
"No-no,-it will be better soon.
Battle it, please, dear"
He drew of her stocking and pre-
pared to battle her injured foot. His
touch was like q woman's. The water
from the cold marble fount seemed to
relieve her. She sat up and leaned
against the chancel rail and watched
him in silence. Presently she said:
How strong you are, and so kind.
What should have done if you had
not returned? [ recovered once in the
dark, before you came. At first I
thought was dead-then-the pain re-
minded me, and then-that is all L re-
member. Strange, wasn't it, that we
should have had such dreadful quar-
rel? was very angry when I came
down stairs, and I did not mind my
steps"
We have had no quarrel. 1t takes
two, YOU know"
Goa! then you mean to give it up?
OH am SO glad"
"Give up what p
"The organ"
81 did not say so."
ooh nv love, YOU did"
"Not knowingly"
Here a sharp twinge of pain caused
her to catch her breath with little cry
and start.
"What is it ?"
"My foot-I think you ..are right
must get home ?'
eyes there is a watchman just out
side. I will bid him call carriage"
He ran breathless through the aisle,
and in a moment returned, radiant. 1t
will be here in a moment. Let him
wrap his coat about her foot and carry
her out She suffered him to wrap her
up, and then he took her up as if she |
had been a child.
Wait-wait just moment. Sit |
down a moment. 1t has not come. Let |
me rest-so-in your arms"
How long the carriage delayed They |
sat thus on the chancel step for several |
moments, and then she said:
ooh am so glad you mean to give
up the organ. There's no money in it,
you know"
"Why do you speak of it? You
know I cannot. Ask some other
favor, but not that"
She made movement as if to escape
from his arms. He restrained her not,
and she tried to stand up. The pain in
her foot was too severe, and she sat
down, white with anguish.
"You DO not love met is no mat
ter. Why has not the carriage-come?'
cit will be here presently. Then
you can go home"
For a few moments she turned away
her head and was silent. The she said,
in a constrained voice
"You will come and see me, some
times-and perhaps be my-friend-I
shall miss-Hark! Is that the carriage?"
"No."
Then there was long pause. Neither
spoke, and they could hear nothing save
til dreary ticking of the clock in the
gallery. She bowed hei head upon her
hands and he sat up alert and listening,
but with a dreadful war in his heart.
Was she so selfish? Was she really in
earnest? Were they to thus part, and
in such place, at such an hour? Thank
Heaven for moment at least he would
fold her close, and then
A convulsive sob startled him. He
sat down beside her and took her hand
in his.
dearest None can see us save
God. We are alone in His temple. In
His name 1 ask you to forgive me, but
[ cannot overturn my whole life to
please you. If we must part on this
It must be so, and God give me strength
to bear it. [ see that your heart is
fixed on something else. Let us part
in peace-if it must be"
She replied nothing for a moment,
md then said, slowly:
You have the strength of a Samson.
Your will is like iron"
eyes. When ] think I am in the
light"
"And 1 suppose, to carry out the
analogy, you think me a new Delilah." "
Frankly, yes. You seek to bring
ne to the Philistinism of mere wealth j
md fashion. It is upon these things
your heart is placed" E;
'YOu are cruel"
"Say, rather, truthful"
"It hurts-for all that"
sob, my love my love how can I
wound you. I mean no i'll, but only the
ruth. Be strong, and see things as
hey are"
He drew her gently to him, and in {
mingled shame, love, and gratitude she
aid her aching head upon his breast and ]
aid: /
"My Samson Thou hast conquered
ne" {
"Thank God! Hark The carriage - ,
"Stay ! one moment Forgive me
md kiss me. Love is greater than mo-
ley I"
Marrying for a Bishopric.
The manner in which DR.. Sumner, S
ate Bishop of Winchester, proved his t
itness for the Episcopate reminds one '
If American civil service requirements. s
after graduating at Cambridge, he was
made tutor to the young Marquis of t
While travelling in Swift L