The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1877-04-21
THE SILENT HEART.
BY e. W.

ed out OF the cottage window. There
had been tall figure passing down the
path that led to the little gate, but, long
before, that was out of sight. Still
Sarah sat there, her dark, mounful eyes
looking out upon the dusty road, her
beautiful mouth folded in lines of path
os, touching in one so young.
Buisly the shining needle went In
and out Of the stockings, and sometimes
the mother cast a wistful glance at the
lovely face opposite to her, as if long.
ing to comfort or advise. It was
strangely pathetic to see the little white
h ,nds, that were always so busy, lying
i imthe forenoon, the cheerful features
so absorbed aud sad.
At last, Sarah broke the long, pain.
full silence.
"Mother," she said. "is it my duty
to marry Charles Everhard?"
"Your duty, Sarah2 Have you no
warmer word to use when you talk Of
marrying man to whom we owe so
great a debt of gratitude?"
mo, mother. l AM grateful to him,
but do not love him."
"Yet he loves you devotedly."
"If could only believe that!" Sarah
sighed. "If were only sure he loved
mel"
"You are too romantic, Sarah. Think
for moment, We were miserably
poor, living in an attic, doing slop. work
for the barest necessaries Fife, when
accident threw you in Charles Ever
hard's way"
"Was it accident? l have often
thought it was strange that he should
have stood so veIy near when / was iD-
suited for the only time in the street.
II has often troubled me that thought
detected glance pass between the
man who was rude to me and my gal
liant deliverer. 1t was rather dramatic,
mother, that sudden rush to protect me-"
''But think, Sarah, of the great deli.
cacy exhibited in his kindness since
that time. His introduction to me was
certainly gentlemanly method of OBJ.
tanning permission to call. Then his
procuring this cottage for us upon such
easy terms, and tie work we are doing,
so pleasant and yet so well paid. And
surely, Sarah, if we were still as rich as
we were when your father died, you
| could not have been wOoed with more
respect than Charles Everhard constant
ly shows you"
81 know all you would urge, mother;
and yet the fact remains. he does not
| love mel"
''He is a man who might marry well
| in his own circle, Sarah. His father is
one of our leading lawyers, and your
poor uncle had great respect for him.
"Uncle Herbert, mother "
eyes, dear, who died in Australia
last year. Poor fellow, after shaving
there for nearly twenty years, he must
have died poor"
"Why?"
81 am his only living relative, dear,
excepting yourself, and If he had left
any property, we should have heard of
| it,"
"Yes, have heard you say so
wish he had left you little money.
Ever so little would enable us to throw
off this bitterload of obligation. Itcrush-
es me had rather be back in our attic,
and know we were independent.
Mother mother! Icannot marry Charles
Everhardl'
"Yet you have all 20 gain by such a
marriage, Sarah, nothing to losel"
81 should lose my self-respect, my
happiness for life. No, mother, though
/ may seem ungrateful, I'll not marry
where there is no love-"
But Charles Everhard did not patient
ly bear the rejection of the beautiful
girl he had persistantly wOoed for many
long months. He had, as Sarah sus.
pected, planned the apparently chan Sc
encounter which first brought him to
the notice and grateful acknowledge
ment of the widow and her daughter.
He had spent valuable time and no
small amount Of money in following up
this introduction, and having, as he be-
lleved won Sarah's affection, he asked
her to be his wife.
And Sarah, with only the pure in.
stincts of herown maiden heart To guide
her, had refused his offer.
With his heart full of bitter revenge,
he tried to win by cruelty what he had
failed to gain by kindness. Before a
week passed he urged his suit with
Mrs. Hartley. With atfectiOnate words
she told him OF her own regret at
Sarah's decision, but absolutely refused
to use her influence to alter ii. Then,
when vague hints were thrown out to
waken her fears, stately dignity re .
placed the motherly warmth of her
manner, and Charles Everhard was
couTteOusly but distinctly informed that
Sarah could never be won by brlbe or
threat.
But a few days were allowed for re-
Election before the landlord OF the little
cottage raised the rent to such an ex-
orbitant amount that only immediate
removal remained for the Hartleys.
The easy lucrative work was taken
away at an hours notice, and when
Sarah went to to the slop- warehouse
for which she had formerly worked,
employment was denied her there.
, Winter was coming on, and the narrow
, attic room seemed even more dreary
than before, in contrast to their cosy
cottage.
Mrs. Hartley spoke once In terms
that quieted any pain her daughter
might have felt on her account,