Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1875-04-21

Again there was silence, broken on
ly by the means, which, despite his
efforts, would occasionally burst from
the lips of the injured man. AT last
he said Edward Horan, by youl
love for Ellen, tell me if what you
have stated respecting her be really
true"
"It is too true, Timothy Connolly
there is no need OF faleshood." y"
"Then save me, and 7 swear I'll
marry her y
Edward Horan uttered 4 cry Of de
light.
"She is saved y he calculated; and,
unmindful of the others accident, he
wrung his hand warmly.
Timothy uttered a groan and faint
ed. Fearing now for the latter's life,
as much as it had been his own,
Edward gently raised him on his
shoulder and carefully bore him to the
nearest house. That was Donovan
Farm, and he was glad of it.
Arousing the farmer and his wife as
noiselessly as possible, he briefly eX-
planned what had occurred, and bade
them grant shelter to the invalid, as,
on recovery, he had promised to fulfill
his vow to Ellen. He knew without
this they would not have received him
under their roof
AS it was, the old people carefully
placed the injured man in bed, while
Edward Horan, saddling and mount
ing horse, rode in all possible haste
to the home of the nearest surgeon.
For three days Timothy Connolly
was delilious with fever, during which
time the Donovans, sometimes assist
ed by Edward, watched and tended
him with untiring care. But none
nursed him more gently than Ellen
herself and Edward, strong man that
he was, could have cried for joy as he
beheld at times faint color coming
back to her cheek, a bright smile to
her face. 1t was like the oldcn time
again, especially when she addressed
him yet it was not quite the same.
"She will live, she will be happy"
he thought and so mselish was his
passion that he rejoiced as at his own
though hers he knew was
to be shared with another than he.
After those three days Timothy
Connolly recovered rapidly ; and as
his health improved, so Edward per-
ceived, did Ellen's spirits revive.
From day to day he waited for the
farmer to speak, but in vain.
AT last, suspecting that Connolly
might after all, deceive him, he re-
solved to obtain a private interview
with him.
When they were alone, he said, with
a voice firm and grave: "Timothy
Connolly, in few days you will be
well enough to quit this roof. Have
you forgotten your promise to bring
happiness back to it ?"
The sick man looked irritated.
"No !" he answered "Why should
you think so q
"Because you do not speak"
"You are impatient y
EYES," was the quiet reply. "Either
speak ut once, or, let it end as it may
by your death or not, | will take you
from this house, which your presence
otherwise pollutes.
81 tell you | will speak - responded
the other.
"Then no time can be- better than
the present. Ellen is here
AS he spoke, Ellen Donovan enter
ed the room with some refreshments
for the invalid. Her look was calm,
her manner undisturbed.
Edward Horan drew aside out of
sight of Timothy, while Ellen ap-
preached the couch. He took the
cup, drank off the contents, then gave
it back to the young girl. As he did
so, he retained ner hand.
"Ellen,' he said, II want to speak
to you"
She looked down and remained 81
lent.
Ellen he proceeded, "with shame
and repentance have | seen you around
my sick couch. Can you forget I?
Will you forgive me for the pain ]
have caused you ?"
Ellen was yet silent then blush
ingly lifted her gaze and fixedly rested
it on his.
"Yes, Timothy Connolly, | can do
both for during a short time past l
have experienced too great joy to cher