The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1877-09-22

Throwing off her rich silk wrapper
Ellen put on a dark gray dress and the
added a close silk bonnet, with a THO
veil.
"Come, Mary" and the two left tn
house together.
In a low, close room, on a pallet be,
lay Mary O'Brien's ledger. The fac
which lay against the coarse ticking .
the pillow was such as one faneies 70
that of his favorite poet. The hair wa
dark, waving over a broad. white fore
head the eyes were hazel, large ami
full and the features delicate. Usual,
the face was pale, but now crimson will
fever. The eyes were fierce and wild
But even with all this, the face wa
beautiful with an almost unearthly
beauty. In that poor low room Eller
came like a saving angel. She gave ont
glance at the sick mans face, then crossed
the r9om to his side.
ELLEN " said the sick mar ;"Ellen.'
HE knows me" she murmured, draR
ing back.
But the young man moaned her name
again, and then broke forth into wild
delirious rawlings.
"Mary," said Ellen, send Patrick tt
me-"
Mary left the room, and Ellen turned
to the table to find paper and pencil.
She wrote hasty notes, one to her house.
keeper for pillow and sheets; and another
to DIR. Stanley, who did not guess who
was the friend that sent him SO much
practice among the poor patients and
saw that he was well paid.
Having dispatched Patrick with the
notes, Ellen tried to make tie desolate
room seem more homelike. Lifting
from the table d Waistcoat, something
dropped from the pocket to the floor. It
was a small miniature case, open, and
painted on the ivory was Ellen's face.
A smile gentle and plying came to hel
lips.
"He did love me, then, really-~really
love me; and would not seek me, with
the fortune-hunters who follow me! This
is the reason l have missed him 30 long,
"Arrah, Miss! here's the DOCTOR"
"Stop. him, Mary; I will go in here.
Remember, Mary, you don't know my
name;;" and Ellen went into another room
"a vacant one adjoining that o f the in
valid's. The door was ajar, and DIR.
Stanley's first exclamation reached her.
Harold! Have I found you at last
and in such a placer" .
Ellen's eyes ranged over the capabilities
of the 0 in which she stood, saying
It will do; it is larger and better than
the other, but a poor place at the best,
The next day, when DR.. Stanley called
to see his patient, Mary O'Brien, with a
pardonable pride, ushered him into the
room that had been vacant before. A soft
carpet was on the floor, and a fire in the
CRATE, the latter shaded from the bed by
a neat screen. Soft white muslin curtains
draped the windows. The bed could
hardly be recognized with its white pill
ows, counterpart and sheets. A little
table stood beside the bed, with the medi
cines hetfhad ordered, and an exquisite
of cooling drink.
"The Lady, ye mind, 1 told you of
that STINT ye to Terence" said Mary,
''she stint all the nice things and helped
me t. arrange tnem yesterday, and my
good man and I moved in here to-day
she'll find him here when she comes
It's asleep he's been for better'n two
Two hoursl Harold wa still sleeping,
but he soon aweke and looked with sur-
prise about him. The cold, cherries as
pect of the place was changed as if by en-
and-Harold thought he was
dreaming-an angel face bent over him
pitying eyes, and a smile, tender as
> loving mothers, over her darling
child.
"Ellen!" he whispered, ooh, that 1
could die in such a dream!"
Was it a dream-that sweet voice an
him. Il
"Hareld, you will not die; you will
i've for me. Your genius shall be recog-
lized, your pictures sought. No more
'truggling for Life, but only for fame"
And the tears fell as she spoke.
DR.. Stanley, standing in the, doorway,
ecognized the ballroom belle, the object
f his friends long, silent, hopeless love.
Softly he glided down the stairs, for
knew that a better medicine than he
ould prescribe was within the patients
rasp.
A short time after, the world said, "Just
Q think of Ellen Marston, rich and such
belle, marrying Harold Graham, the
COR artist!"
LRTISEPTICS AND OIsENFEGTANTs
A committee appointed by the Rus