Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1876-03-16

as it were, out of the clouds, as he
might have heard the thunder Of the
waves on the beach outside, or the
ringing of the church bells, without at
all connecting them with himself.
Strange what a world of dreams and
shadows his soul and brain had enter
ed into.
But one day he came back out of the
darkness. and the immensity and the
restless whirling to and fro of the
waves of life, weak and white, and
helpless as baby.
And there sewing by the window,
sat a soft-eyed yonng girl, all in white,
with glimmering hair, long lashes, and
.delicately rounded features.
Pardon me- hOarsely uttered the
Major, with little sOHreIab' of his old
fashioned courtesy and politeness; but
| don't know who you are
'Hush.' said the young lady, gently.
You must not talk. l am here 10
nurse YOU
And then he found himself taking
draught from her practiced fingers, and
then drifting off asleep.
'Ihave been very ill, havn't l." said
he, when the doctor came at noon, as
usual.
you have been as close to the Val
ley of the Shadow more than once as
man can be in this life,' DR.. Delagood
answered, gravely.
The major shuddered little-heath-
euish old Sybarite as he was. The idea
of death appalled, him, aid he scarcely
cared TO hear how near be had been to
the solution of the great problem.
But you pulled me through said
he, with a long breath.
Yes, l and your patient little nurse,
who has just gone for half an hours
sleep
ssWho is she doctor?' asked the major,
anXiou5ly.
'She is the niece of one of the lady
boarders. Martin, l think they call
her. Her aunt Went away as soon as
the fever declared itself--in fact, it
riddled the hotel pretty nearly-but
this girl would not allow any one TO
suffer for want of care and nursing,
and she courageously remained to take
care of yOu.'
why did she do that?' asked the
major, little lump rising in his throat.
why did Florence Nightingale go
out to the Crimea? Why are all wo-
men born heroineS at hearth retorted
the doctor.
God bless herr muttered the major.
And then he turned his head Cd one
side, and big drop or two FLASHED
down on the pillow.
Day by day he lay there in slow con-
valescence, while the pretty young
nurse ministered to him.
My dear,' said the major, one day,
Il think am beginning to realize now
what the blessing of a daughter would
have been mad God given me one. l
have grown very fond of YOU
The soft blue eyes beamed smilingly
down upon him as he spoke.
And L of you,' answered the girl, in
low, tender accents.
Are you much attached to your
aunt:-Mrs. FessendeL, l believe her
name is.'
YES said the girl, half doubtfully,
Il suppose so; never saw her before
she asked me to spend the season with
her at Atlantic City last MONTH
Is that all you have seen of her"
'rhat's ALL
Then, said the major, 4 shall ask
her to let me adopt you. Will you be
nv daughter henceforth?'
She threw her arms around his neck,
! and sobbed upon his breast.
DO you really love me? Do you
really want me?' asked she.
'I am all alone, my child said the
major. And you will be the sunshine
of my house,
But you have son.?
Yes answered the major, slightly
frowning. Poor Henry! But he has
estranged himself from me-
Forever
YES, forever!' sickness, you see,
had taken none of the inherent obsti,
nacy out of our old hero's character.)
'Papau-she knelt beside the satin,
pillowed invalid chair, which had been
wheeled out into the sunshine on the
broad veranda-I am to call you pa
pa, am / not?'
'Of course you are, dearest
The MAJORS hand strOked down hel
bright hair with a tender touch as he
spoke.
Then, papa, tell me 'chy you are es
tranged from him"
.He married in disregard of my
Wishes the major sternly answered.
IS that such an objectionable crime?
objectionable? See here, Mary, il
he had not made such a fool, such an
| idiot OF himself, ne might have been
your husband. You might have been
then my daughter in very truth! Stran'
ger things have happened
But that couldn't be-
'Why not?' demanded the major.
Because he is my husband already.
: Oh, papa, dear, dear father!-I am not
Mary Martin, and yet am. My reaI
name is Mary Ariel Martiudale; and
Harry, away at ST. Louis, is my hu5'
band. only came here 10 stay witt
Aunt Fessenden until he could make
that little home for us which we had
both hoped and dreamed of. Will you
forgive US both, papa, for my sake:'
& suppose | shall have to- said the
major, in extreme bewilderment. Kiss
me, dear. Upon the whole, Harry
isn'nt such fool as l believed him to
be! And you knew who | was all the
while?'
of course 1 did,
And you kept it dark? Sly little
puss! Well, Mary-I mean, Ariel
Yes, papa
We'll telegraph to Henry to come
right back. There's only three OF Us.
Let's try and be happy together
So, through Ariel's blue eyes and
heavcn-sent face Harry Martindale
was disinherited, and thro' her he was
received back again into his own in
heritance.
'Own up, sir, that knew what was
about said Harry, as he stood there,
with Ariel leaning on his arm.
you dog!' said the old gentleman,
facetiously poking him in the ribs,
you've got the prettiest little wife 60
, ing .....
The President last week sent to the
Senate the name of Richard III. Dana,
Jr., of Massachusetts, 20 be Envoy Tx
traordinary and Minister PlenipOtenti-