Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1876-02-10

comfort, Mrs. Arnold and the ph
sician passed up the staircase into
bright, cozy room, where they wei
greeted by the cheerful warmth of
coal fire, the soft, snbdued gimme
of gaslights turned down. On til
bed lay the woman they had come t
see, thoroughly restored 10 consciou,
ness- hut with a brilliant color on th
cheeks that seemed to betoken fevel
! DIR. Grey looked grave as he hel
the small, wasted hand in his, an
counted the beating of the pulse
Too rapid" he said, under hi
breath. "No, you must not talk, bu
remain perfectly quiet; rest Is wha
you need. You are in good hands
and tomorrow, if you are better, yor
may tell all that you have on you
mind"
There was an air of relinemen
about this waif that even fastidiou
Mrs. Arnold noticed; and she saw
the look of gratitude that welled NJ
from the depths of the deep. darl
eyes, though the lips uttered NJ
word. Bending over, she whispered
''Wait until tomorrow. The doctor
thinks you require rest, and 1 dare
not infringe upon his orders. Ellen
will remain with you, and you may
be assured that we feel deep interest
in your welfare. Good night; try
and Sleep"
'Give her these powders every two
hours. said the doctor, and then he
passed out of the room.
How often we 90 to meet our fate
without knowing it,. The things we
look for, the sweet anticipatiOns of
life slip, Oltentimes, away from us,
one bv one. We know not where
they have gone, or why, but we know
that where there was JOY and hope,
naught lives save desolation, And
there are others that come down
like Coils white-winged angels. and
rest and help. and lift us up. and
thus the odd things are made even,
and the rough corners rounded and
made beautiful.
Mrs. Arnold was true to her word,
and when the light of another day
had won the world back to her
beauty, she looked upon the young
girls face and knew that she would
live. Then she formed after the wo-
man fashion-a life that should be
redolent of good works, and rich in
faith and love. "We will take her
home to our hearts," she thought.
81 am sure she is as fair within as
without: the face is almost always an
index of the soul. She will not dis
appoint us, | am sure"
She was very will ing to listen te
the strangers story. Moreover, she
was, Hke her-bushald. charitable,
and there was story in their lives
IA sad one-that they never refer
red to from choice. The silence in
regard to their skeleton had been
unbroken for years until the previous
night, when her husband had put the
question that had brought back the
old ache in her heart.
"You are very much better, almost
well, but intend to keep you in bed
to-day. AN ounce of prevention is
worth a pound of cure so the old
proverb says, and believe in it.
By the-by, what shall call you?'
The girls voice was low and sweet,
as she replied: "My name is Grace
Arnold, and have been married ten
years.
Mrs. Arnold started forward:
''What did you say-Grace Arnold?
Why" and then she stopped, say
ing only, $50 on, am listening.
81 was only fifteen when | married,
and l had never known trouble. Fa-
ther and mother denied themselves
many comforts in order that / might
be educated. They were good to me
all the rain of life and
leaving me the sunshine. One sum-
mer, when came home to pass my
vacation, l met Fred Arnold, and
soon Icame to love him, to long for
his presence, to miss his pleasant
words and little attentions. The idea
Of marrying him used to cross my
mind from time to time but lived
too entirely IN the present for it to
prove a source of anxiety.
Sat last-I remember the time so
well-he told me that he must 90
away, but before he went there was
a story he must tell me, and my an
swer would influence his whole fu-
ture for veal or woe. How sweetly
the birds sang that day; how fra
grant the flowers were; but none of
the precious gifts of nature were to
be compared with this great beni
son of love that had come down into
my life. Then he told me all about
His father was a rich
banker, but very proud, and my dar-
ling feared that he should have little
to offer save heart and willing hands;
would / be satisfied with them?
"a week from the time he said
goodbye he returned to claim me.
He was very honest, telling me plain
Iy that his father had erected bar
rier between them that could not be
broken down this side the grave. We
were married a month later, and he
brought me to Philadelphia, where
we were left to fight the battle of life
rs best we could. Two years after a
baby boy came to us. How glad and
happy was! Fred wrote to his ia
ther, but after some time an old
friend sent word that the family had
gone abroad and their whereabouts
was unknown. My baby remained
only ten months, and then God took
him.
The girls eyes we're dim with
tears, and her voice failed for a mo-
ment. The figure in the chair bowed
her head lower; then the story went
on. "Things went against us after
that time. My husband lost his po-