The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1876-07-16
NUMBER "a.
THE YOUNG DOCTOR.
tContinued.)
CHAPTER VIII.
-Adeline's .Asoicdl.
BY HENDRIX CONSCIENCE.

Adeline's Asowal.
Adeline had returned home from the church
about quarter OF an hour. She walk ed mp and
down the drawiug-room and seemed to suffer
! from great anxiety. From time to time she
raised her eyes to heaven, heaved o profound
| sigh, and recommended her mechanical prone
| thoughts that assailed her. In returning from
| church, she had seen the notary leave tho
Walkers house. The triumphant expression
| OF haPpiness that illuminated bis countenRnoe,
| and particularly his studied costume, struck
| the young girl with astonishment, and Mt tho
same time with q secret uneasiness She could
not at first understand how apythinR 80 nninl-
| portAnt in itself could suddenly make her heart
| beat and cause her suoh inc plicable emotion !;
| and now her mind, bewiidered by contendinG
| thoughts suggested by what she had just seen,
and by her own intimate conviction, could not
decide what 10 believe Alarmed by the sud-
den revelation made to her of the state of her
heart, she covered her eyes with her hands and
struggled to restrain the tears that rose from
the depths of her heart; but the feelings would
have vent, and broken sigh, something like
suppressed sob. relieved her oppressed breRsts
She looked tremblingy at her hands, moistened
with tears, and exclaimed:
Tears! Oh, must hide these signs of sor-
row. must not weep; must appear cheerf1l.
Alb to smile with anguish In the soul ~
In truth, she tried to give an expression Of
cheeriuiness to her countenance; but she did
not succeed in entirely Disgusting what she felt
interiorly.
For a few moments sad emile rested on her
lips but 1t soon vanished, and she was again
the prey of bitter reflections.
81 promised my father to forget my friends"
she murmured, 80 etface even their name from
my memory, to think no more of them nor Of
him. You kno%, oh, my God! that the pro-
misses were sincere. / was at that time iHno-
rant OF the overpowering sentiment concealed
in the folds of ny heart. His abseuc., the
thoughts against which / was compelled to
struggle. Sadness and isolation, have removed
the bAndage from my eyes. 1 see him always;
even, weep during my sleep because dream
that he Is unhappy. Then do love him Alasg
yes; love him; for whilst, an innocent
child, regarded him as the companion Of tho
plays of my infancy, and n dear friend, .
sentiment more powerful than my will, stronger
than ny consciousness of duty, has slowly add
Victoriously increased in my heart. Aud does
he grieve as do, because u cruel fate separates
nsf Does he sometimes murmur my 6amef
Does he sometimes recall my Image, aud see me
in his Bolitudef"
Suddenly the light of con hdence ar d strength
her eyes aud she bowed her bead
d mrmativelyi but her cheeks were crimsoned
with sigh of alarm:
Always this wondering OF my thoughtsI I
wish to guard myself against him, against the
remem bT Rnce of him, aud my poor heart throba
with happiness at the Thought only that he
sntfeTa the came grief that 1 do. What = pun
shment to sntfer, to be silent, TO hide my tears
IN the solitude Of the night, and to fegn to 10
gay, and to smile, that father may not sus-
poet the sentiment that IA II cts aud renders
ne unhappy. My father believes that Adolphus
IS illdIsPosed towards him. lie hates him;
and j, his child, love his enemy Whilst my
Ups utter words Of consolation, my desolate
'oul only sees Adolphus-only dreams OF Adolf
JhuB."
She remained soUe time absorbed in these
'ilent reflections. Then she commenced her
vel interrog cation.
What ought to dot What is my dutyf
This continual dIssimulation fills me with fear.
Oh! would tell all TO my father, ask his par
Ion, promise him 10 contend against myself
lutil at last Ier my feebleness. But tho
ruth Will occasion hun ioeXpressbls chBgTin,
md will reduce him to despair. Perhaps my
lvowal might make him ill, and abrdRe his
Ife. No, no; l will enclose this secret in my
,wn heart, and l will not permit any TO
suspect the cause of my sadness. l will still
combat, will use all my strength 10 stiae this
entiment which SbsOrbs me. God, in HE
mercy, will have pity on me, aud will give me
courage and strength to triumph over myself.
" y father shall not know Of the struggles that
have to endure, and will at least spare him
,uredly EN- bitter his life. This, then, is my
iuty, IL bsture is not become altogether power
ess in me, will ind in my fathers love the
treDgth TO fulfl it,"
Fortified by these resolutions, she advanced
o Il mirror. wiped away the traces of tears
rom her lace, and looked at herself for some
moments. She sighed, as she said:
have become thin my cheeks have lost
he freshness Of health! Ny lips may deceive,
'ut my Ia e cannot deceive him. II IL were not
or this pallId look, for this emRciated face, my
nther himself could not suspect that am laSs
IL will return la an hour. I will walk Q short
me in the garden, will take exercise, and my
beeks will recover some color"
She seated herself near q table, almost con-
oiled, and for come time gSzsd silently on the
lOor.
Then, replying to a question which she hSA
nteri0rly proposed TO herself, she said;