Daily Kennebec journal., 1875-12-18
NO. 299.
TWENTY YEARS OF WAITING.
AMALIE LA FORGE.

II have looked for her every day since
then. Paul, in the churchyard wonder,
and in the old house here, wait for kath-
leen's coming. Her room is always ready.
Would you like to see it ?''
l assented eagerly. Phil took up the
lamp, and unlocking door had not OBJ
served till then, led me into large room,
bright with soft, warm tints, and made
cheerful by the fire which cracked ami
played upon the hearth. The walls were
hung with pictures. the tables covered with
books. and in one corner stood cabinet
filled with bronzes exquisite statuettes and
here and there shrine of gold and gems.
On the top lay Bible prayer-book, and
beautifully bound copy of Thomas a
Kempis. Opening the latter, read ITO
my wife, December II, 1S-.'
ut will take her some time to look over
her birthday presents" Phil said in an.
swer to my look Of inquiry. Yes, that
is the last. December lit will soon he
bere." He stood looking into the fire and
musingly stroking his long gray beard.
"She will be thirty-nine, Archie, and am
an old man. My faith sometimes wavers,
but if lost it." His face shadowed
suddenly, and he sank into chair with Il
weary sigh.
Seeing he for the time was unconscious
of my presence, continued my survey of
the room. In one corner were grouped
several rare ferns and a tea-rosc bush COW
cred with buds. In one of the windows
hung bird cage, its pretty occupant
curled up in a soft, yellow ball. How pa.
thetic to me were the faded curtains, tell
ing, as they did, Of the long. patient wait
ing, the bitterness of hope deferred.
When returned to the fire Phils eyes
were fixed on picture that hung over the
mantlepiece-a woman's face beautiful
and sad, yet lighted with the radiance of a
divine hope. Beneath the picture was a
bracket, on which stood vase of flowers
'Phil is that"
"My wife. 1t was not meant for her,
yet the likeness is perfect With that
look on her face. she is waiting some
where. must not despair now, Archie.
when she may be near
Then we sat down and had one Of our
talks. not about things ''seen and tenn
poral,' but ''things unseen and eternal. ="
Phil startled my sober theology sometimes
with his simply expressed IDEAS, but when
l thought while always found that they
were pure, and true, and good, only my
slower intellect needed time to learn their
beauty. During all these years he had
dwelt so much in the world Of feeling,
that spiritual things seemed very near to
him that to me were only dim promises OF
future light. In these short weeks he
taught me more real religion than had
learned in all my life before. Sometimes
his quiet "God will not;'' .'He will not.
seemed to me presumption, but afterward
l thought, Who am that should Judge
Is it not the child that knows the Fathers
heart so well. that what to many is but
peradventure, is to him the blissfnl GER
tainty?
We had been silent some minutes. Phil
gazing in the fire. and thinking what won-
derful rOmances are sometimes buried be-
meath a quiet exterior, when he took up the
little prayer-book and began turning over
its leaves. GLOW absurd this sentence is
in the otherwise beautiful marriage SER
vice: Those whom God hath joined to-
gether let no man put asunder.' What
God hath joined together no man can put
asunder; wait minute. Archie, l know
what you would say; know some have
not patience to wait for Gods good time,
or when their twin soul comes their eyes
are blinded and they only catch wait
from Paradise instead Of entering at the
gate Then some fancy rules them, and
then in after years they find that they are
only units in the mighty whole. who so
mistake and thwart Gods providence
Then there are hands drawn out of one
another, changed lips that speak their cold
farewell. God never joined those two to-
gcther, that was mans work. 1t is true
God sometimes parts his souls, but still
the freed spirit may hold blessed converse
with its mourning mate, held prisoner in
its house of clay. God never utterly di-
vides what he hath joined. 1t NAV be
His will that shall never see my kath-
leen's face again, yet can trust Him and
live on until upon His everlasting hills He
shall restore her to me-" Phifs voice
trembled little, and his face grew sud
denly old and careworn. l said nothing
this was sorrow with which no stranger
hand might meddle. Presently he
rose with sigh. "This is a thought,
Archie, that sometimes comes to
tempt me, but" and the bright, cheer
tul look came back to his face, ''hope
always blossoms out again, and believe
that God in His good time will. here on
earth, bring my wife home to me-"
On the evening of the 18th Of Decem-
ber was sitting in my room, thinking OF
my friend. The wind whist,ed without.
and now and then few flakes Of snow
were whirled against the window pane.
| was wondering whether Phil would
rather be alone, OF il should go 70 hiss,
when n note was handed to me. 1t was
in Phl's writing. "Archie, she has come.
want you. Bring Abby with you; she
is Il sensible woman, and can hold her
tongue"
Seizing my hat and cloak, and telling
Abby to fellow. hurried over. Phil met
me in the hall; he clasped both my hands
and drew me into his office. ''She came
tonight, in the early darkness; she has
followed her father from city to city, the
only link that bound him to purer life I;
he died month ago. In London. She
has been cold, hungry, desolate, but she
has come at last"
Then he led me into the warmth and
brightness of the nest. whose bird had ri
length flown home.
A figure was lying on the low couch
drawn up before the fire. my wife - Phil