The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883, 1876-08-17


to Mr.. Lee, and be careful not to lei
anyone around the house see 1t. Ihe
boy departed, going out the back way
to avoid suspicion. About nine that
evening she stole gently out OF the
house and down to the river side. A
young man came forward to meet hel
as she approached.
"Maud, my darling?" he said as he
clasped her his arms"
"Oh, Arthur, she cried, 81 have some
thing to tell you, but L must do II
quickly. Papa wishes me to marry
Harry Everett-but oh! Arthur, l will
die first"
"How long.did he give you to consid>
er it?" Arthur asked thoughtfully.
"Only until tomorrow evening"" she
said.
"Well. I think we can be safe away
before then, darling" he said, $50 take
courage"
"What can we do, Arthur Maud
asked.
"You can go home and get what few
things you may need" he said, "and
meet me here in an hour I will have a
carriage in waiting and we will leave
forever the place where you are so per,
secuted"
Then kissing her tenderly they part
ed.
Maud hurried to her room and pack
ed few things in valise. While toss
ing over the contents of her drawer she
came across a small rosewood box.
"Oh my vase!' she exclaimed. Il
had almost forgotten it?'
She set the box on the table, and,
taking key from her pocket unlocked
it. Reposing on beautiful velvet cush-
ion was q small vase of curious works
The tears glistened in her
eyes as she gazed on the beautiful box.
"Poor mammal she muttered. at
was her last gift to me-
After gazing at it for sometime,
Maud locked the box and very careful
ly packed it away with the other things;
then, leaning her head on her hand, fell
into deep reverie. Four years before,
when Mrs. Arlington lay on her death
bed, she had called Maud to her and
given her the box, saying:
"Maud, l want you to keep this in re-
membrance of me. Do not remove the
vase from the box unless you are in
need, then you will find
But severe fit Of coughing cut short
the sentence, and half an hour later
Maud was motherless! So the myste-
ry of the vase remained sealed.
Presently glancing up at the clock,
Maud saw that it wanted but quarter
of ten. Hastily rising, she robed her
self in,,a AesfsF5w q n .and neealed hex
face by Nrsesi sne thfs sstole sos1si
quietly ;,,s {, aeS sg.l's ''ss fareIell look a
the room :lrere she had spent SO many
happy hours. Arriving at the trysting'
place, she found Arthur there; and after
few moments conversation, they en-
tered the cab and were driven away.
The next morning Mr. Arlington de
seemed to the breakfast room, but Maut
was not there; after waiting some time
he sent a maid to see if she had risen.
Presently the girl returned, looking
rather frightened and said that Miss
Arlington was not in her room and the
bed had not been slept on. Excited
by thousand fears and fancies, Mr.
Arlington ran hastily up stairs and into
Maud's room. 1t was as Jennie haG
said, the room was empty, but on the
stand was note directed in Maud's del
icate writing to himself. Opening ii
with trembling fingers and sense OF
impending evil at hisheart, he read as
follows:
Dear Father: When you read this
shall be in eternity. I cannot marry g
man 1 do not love. / prefer death to
such an alternative. Forgive me, papa,
if | have been undutiful. l cannot
marry for money. 1 shall end my
troubles in the river.
1 am ever your loving daughter,
MAUD.
"Oh, heavens, what have l dOne?''
cried Mr.. Arlington, as he finished
reading the note and let it fall from his
nerveless grasp. "Wife and child both
goneI'
Then, rush frantically from the
house, he fastened down to the river
side. On the bank he found a cape
and handkerchief with the initials in the
corner. For many days Mr.. Arlington
lay at deaths door. His sister was
sent for, and she came to keep house.
He did not die but came slowly back tC
life; but he was changed man. Hith-
erto he had always been harsh and
stern towards those in his employ; but
now his manner changed, and he had a
kind word and helping hand for all.
=
Five years passed away. 1t was a
dreary autumn day; the sky overhead
was dull, leaden hue, and the dead
leaves futtered to the ground with a
rustling sound. A poor, wretched room
in the top of an old tenement house; the
wind sobbed and mourned through the
many cracks in the walls and the room
itself was cheerless and poorly furnish
ed. A bed a table and couple OF
chairs, constituted the only furniture.
Seated at an easel, putting the finish
ing touches on picture, was young
man of twenty-seven. His face was
pale and haggard, and his eyes wild and
sunken. A woman was seated opposite
sewing busily, but every now and anon
casting an anxious glance at her hus-
band. On the floor at her feet was a