The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1875-04-15

~ 4-.-. t2.siLg I5.R / .aii}ji y.4s1a,I:l IL. !.
Harriet wiped her eyes, and kissed
her sister. 4 -,
Wen, my, tdear,'' :. she. answered, spya d,
re'saignedly, re'sai T suppose we must make: k
the best Of it, and go on trusting; him
e little longer. But il seems, rather
hard upon US. The money we, saved
in the summer will soon 60" ..'.z1 =:
,r'N Mover mind, dear; we ,can save
more no next geee summer. Any thing is
better than TO turn that poor creature
out Of doors"
Before long, this Improbable lodg-
er absorbed all~their time and care.
The Lowmnster' doctor gave very
little hope Of his recovery. Mary
Baxter nursed him. night: and day,
devoting herself to the task with a pa
tience that knew no change. Her
sister demonstrated. with her. some
times about this constant fatigue, but
she would hear OF no objection to her
doing what she called her duty.
.But it can't be your duty to sacri-
flee your life for this. man, Mary
said Harriet. "and he:quite stranger
to US too"
$50 was the traveller that the Sa-
maritan took care Of, Harriet. You
needn't fear my being any the worse
for what I do. 1t would do me more:
harm to be fdgeting myself about that
poor creature, as I should if I left
Anne to take care Of him."
The sick man fingered on through
the: beginning ofthe year. The days
had heightened a good deal, and the
little garden was full of ;croc:uuses,-
when he began to sink. The money
had never: come from the London
publisher, and he owed the Misses
Baxter more than thirty pounds. :"
He was lying on a sofa near the
window one day, ii: III the fading sun
shine Of. a bright afternoon, with
Mary Baxter sitting nj near Il him at work,
when he called her for the first time:
by her Christian name.
"Mary," he said, very gently, Il
think you are the truest woman and
the best Christian I ever knew. God
knows your goodness to me is quite
enough to prove you that. Yet there
are some injuries which even Chris
ianfnds it hard to forgive. Did
any one ever do you such a wrong as
that ?"
He lifted himself on his elbow; and
looked her in the face with a very
earnest expression. Her clear blue
eyes, which had retained their beauty
amidst all the changes time had
| wrought in the once lovely face, look
ed full into his.
"No," she said !; II have forgiven
every wrong that was ever done me: .
"Yous have forgiven a; :mani who
won: your:loveo only to threw litnAway
"a man called. James sHerriston,
whose story I learned a long time
ngo?" -:
Mary Baxter looked at himwith a
smile.
II never cherished any feeling Of
resentment against James Herriston, "
she said, gently.
"And yet he injured you very deep
| lyY
! HE broke my heart"
.!HMary!'
"Oh, I dare say that seems hard to
believe, because I went on living
but broken heart does not always
KILL"
| -Thesick:man fell back. upon his
|pl1ow with. a! long-drawn@ sigh.,: He
shaded his face with: one. thin: hand
aud: lay thus for some, minutes silent
while Mary quietly resumed her work.
By-and-by he raised himself again up.
on his arm. :
"Come here, Mary he said.
siShe went to him, and knelt down
!. beside the sofa.
'Look at me, my dear, and tell me
:, if there is any thing in: my face that
reminds you Of the;past.
She looked athim fora few mo:
ments in silence, with: the same quiet
smile upon her face.
.'@Oh, James Herristonv' she said
at last;' "did' you think you could de
ceive me? I knew you from the
day you came here" -
| Sand you have done so much fol
me, and been so5 good*tosme, knowing
I was the wretch who Tilted you athir-
ty years ago? Oh, Mary, what gen
erous creatures women are! There is
nc. limit to the goodness of some
among them /; and you are one Of
those, my deary-you are one Of
those"
| He paused for a little while, and
then took her unresisting hand and
laid it on his breast.
Il had strange yearnipg to see
you once more, Mary; fancy that
grew stronger as my health declined.
I thought I could very safely venture
without chance of recognition, I was
so much fchanged-so many old ac'
quaintances had failed to remembe,
me when they met me in. the street.
am such mere wreck Of what I once
was, and I 50 longed to see you again,
my dear; for I never loved any wom'
an as I loved you, though I was: base