Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1875-02-25
doubt had given place to truthful GER

doubt mad given place to truthful GER
tainty.
Next day he followed the dead form
to the grave, and then took his way
back to America.
The morning sun cast struggling
beams between the house-tops into the
scantily-furnished room, where Maria
Warton sat busi'y writing. No rest
for the aching fingers; their bread de-
pended on the copying which her wea-
ry fingers performed.
On the neat bed a wasted form Law
wearily complaining. Life was low in
the dull, sunken eyes; the weary one
was fast sinking to rest.
Hush, Nellie said Maria Warton's
sympathizing voice. You wear YOUR
self out by your fretting. Compose
yourself, Nellie; you have a baby to
live for
He will never come again, Maria.
shall never see him again. / am dy-
ing. Hush, Maria, l feel it-dying.
oh, baby, baby, how can 1 leave you!
She caught the wondering child be-
side her, and pressed it closely to her
breast.
Il will be mother to your child, Mel
lie. Fear not; will care for baby
Maria Warton's memory brought I'D
that promise of long ago. How bitter
ly had it cost her to fulfill it, She had
carried her cross bravely;she would not
falter now. The peace that came into
the dying mothers eyes amply repaid
her.
1t was all over. Maria Wartop sat
gazing upon her little charge. She
was alone now. How desolate seemed
the future! What agony to remem-
ber the past!
She heard not the eager steps ascen-
ding the stairs; she knew not that the
presence for which she lOnged, above
all others, was coming to her. A quick
knock at the door aroused her: but be-
fore she had advanced step it was
flung open, strong pair of arms were
about her, Well-knOwn voice sound
ing in her ears.
Maria, darling! Thank heaven, 1
have your
One blissful moment she rested there;
the joy of years seemed compressed in
that moment. Then she remembered,
and struggled to escape.
BE quiet, Maria; 1 know all. How
could you imagine that / could love
you less because of poverty?'
Richard BOughtOn's voice was re-
prOachful, but Maria's gaze fearlessIy
met his.
Il heard you say that you would not
marry poor girl-that your wife must
be above the suspicion of having mar
ried for money
Richard Bougton understood all now.
How clearly the words came back to
him! Brave, unselfish, wrongly-judg-
ed Maria, content to bear the blame
rather than to expose another.
Foolish words, darling, and bitterly
atOned for. Bnt it is past, Maria,
will you not forgive me? Be my wife,
darling. Henceforth nothing will sep
arate u.s.
Il cannot
Her gaze rested wearlily upon the
child. Must the new promise mock
her as the old had dOne-dash the
brightness from her life just when it
was the most preciOus?'
Richard Boughton's gaze followed
hers. The words spoken in the French
hospital came back; the black garb of
Maria revealed fresh grave.
Poor childn he said, mournfully;
'mothefless, fatherless.'
Maria Warton now knew that her
brother was dead. He checked the
words she must utter.
i will be father to it. he said SOL
emnly. Nay, Maria, you shall not
refuse me-
And Maria Warton, leaning on that
strong breast, could not deny him.
Softly, amid her falling tears, she
Through the shadows
Into the lightp said the deep voice
of Richard Boughton, recently.