The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1877-03-22
VOL UME 29-NUMBER 25.

! edges Christopher keDnieote hes frIte
? her IS hezrtieSsiY aud cruelty a.
g man could DO, still ste cana0t kee
i her heart from breaking; her pric
!, rises in arms even against her phys
: cal weakness, and after a while sd
manages to drag herself about th
mouse and into the village with som,
thlng Ike her former energy. Sh
forces herself to laugh and talk I
amuse her father add Mr.. Courtenay
, who is frequent visitor; for he an
Mr.. SeatOn have at last found a mu
tual interest in the fishing, and sDen
Whole days together down bv tn
: river, coming back in the eyepin
laden with dainty little brown from
the finest Of which is presented Z
: Pnemie for her dinner, She is slvyav,
70 De seen at the window watcbini
Ior them. Mr.. COuTtensy's visit
make q pleasant break in the mOnot
ony OF her days, and she learns Z
look for bis coming, and FOR the tin
oeing her spirits rise 8 shade neare
TO the old level, though only fitfully
and to fall back again.
| These attempts at eheerfuIness de
eeiVe her father into thinking her bat
ter but Arthur COurtenay's ewes ar,
more observaRt, and he ramopstrates
with her one day for everlasting hel
strength. ~
II can't always play the invalid
IL IS good Tor me to rouse myseIf: ]
must fight against it," she says petu-
lantly.
=" It is best to give in sometimes
can't you make up your mind to DO Sc
Tor time? Be patient till you have
strength enough given YOU to gel
stronger" he says for he sees that II
is oaly bodily weakness against which
she Is battling so persistently, and he
thinks OF suggestion that NAV spDIv
two ways.
"DO you know how hard il is I
wonder ~ she says, looking at him
euriously, and debating in her mind
whetner he has ever had q trouble OF
his own, or if his counsel is given as
part and parcel Of his profession.
II have never been III in my life, -
ne answers her frankly, $50 perhaps
you will think 1 cannot judge in the
matter but, like most people, / have
had my share Of trouble, and L always
tnlnk certain amount Of illness ac-
companies all heart-siekness. It
must certainly be the most difficult TO
cure; therefore, it may be, my advice
Will have a little weight, as arising
from at least degree Of experience :
and to mind it is easier to bear than
to rebel against what Col sends.U
us all trouble of His sending ?''
Phemie asks, dOubtfuiIy. "It is go dif.
heult to believe it, except
Except Of that which seems as il
1t must ennoble one outright-almost
inVOluntarily, as far as we are con-
cerned, Arthur COurtenay says, au-
tielpaung what she means to say.
"But believe me, there is no trouble,
small or great, that we may not be
the better for il we ehOse.n
"I will think over what you have
sSid," Phemie says gravely, aud drops
the subject, leaving Arthur COurtenay
half afraid he has said too much, and
betrayed to Phemie that he suspects
the truth. But be has felt bound 10
say something to help her. He is
filled with great pity for this girl,
who he guesses is IN some trouble or
difficulty, out Of which he has to
struggle without aid or comfort open
ly given.
After this half confidence they De-
came very friendly with each other.
He does her many little kindnesses /;
among Others, be brings her books to
read while he and her father are out,
and she is left to the care of old Jeni-
fer, who is apt to wax dOleful over her
darling, and takes a melancholy, de-
spairing view of her ever getting bet
ter, that sometimes depresses the in
valid for Phemie, sick and sorry as
she is, has not actually wished for
death. To the young, death must
come somewhat suddenly, or it loses
its character of the great deliverer.
When it tarries-and it is only after a
long weary sickness that the end may
eOme-the young life ressserts ITSELF,
and says, "Let me live" The re-
membrance of the so lately lost health
and strength Is fresh, and has not lost
its pleasAntness, and the mind shrinks
from lingering and suffering, while
release may be afar off. Il REQUIRES
the supernatural, the divine assistanee
to submit to death then, which Is
withheld when 1t is looked upon as
merely q means of escaping sorrow,
q cowardly evasion OF the refner's
fire through which all souls must pass.
Phemie knows not then of this; she
only feels how dOubiy Wretched it Is
to be weak and i'll as well as unhappy;
and since she cannot die and lay the
busden down at once, she would rath-
er get well, and In busy life and out.
side interests forget, or at least, blunt,
the remembranees OF he- own trOub-
les. So she follows Arthur COurte-
nays counsel, and learns the difficult
lesson Of patience.
As the Spring days grow longer and
brighter the roses come back to her
pale cheeks, and q great load is lifted
from the Squire's heart; for in the
fear Of losing his little pale-faeed
daughter, who has seemed to be slip
ping away out OF life, with the cold
days and bitter winds, he has found
that she is as dear to him as a son
could have been, and Phemie is at
last forgiven for being a girl.
1t Is lovely morning late in May
when DIR. Ellis pays his last profess
siOnal visit at ROscOrla, and Phemie
goes to the gate to see him of; and
when he has driven away she turns
and saunters up the garden, though
the sun is shining down upon her
head almost fiercely, and the grass is
green beneath her feet and on all
sides, since Spring was late that year.
Hawthorn's lilRcs snd laburnums are
in blossom, seenting the soft warm
air. There comes to her vividly the
remembrance Of that Winter day
when she ran across the lawn in the
IfnhF Of NJ 1s.hE 80 -
and the sense of sill that she has lost
since then strikes her With a fresh
pain. She cannot reconcile herself to
the knowledge that the honest soul
which looks out Of Chris tOpher Ken
nieote's brown eyes must have been a
cheat, snd his prOtestatiOns Of love a
lie.
'tIt is so unlike al L thought be was
and Uncle Tom can believe it eth
er," SIZE says half EiOud, as she takes
Colonel Hursley's asst letter from her
pocket and resds it over again. It is
an answer W ner own letter-written
when she had quite given up all hope
Of things coming right-teilIDg him
Of Christopher Kennieote's unac-
countable conduct /; saying pitifully
in one place, "What does it all
mean ?" and ending with the urgent
request that Uncle Tom will not take
any notice of it II he writes to Mr..
Kennicote adding in q postscript,
"He knows where TO find me. 1 will
not have him sent to me against his
Will.p
Colonel Hursley's indignant sur
prise soOthes her wounded pride (; it is
q slight comfort to know that some
one else has been deceived besides
herself, although the deception re-
mains in all its hatefulness.
1t is this letter from her uncle that
has done her as much good as DR..
Ellis tonies, for it has given her the
moral braeing she needed. Even
now, as she reads il for perhaps the
twentieth time, its tone OF kindly
sympathy comforts her. She is just
putting it back into Its envelope,
when the sight of Arthur Courtenay
at the gate gives q turn 10 her
thoughts, bringing them back to the
workadsy world. Half q dozen peo-
pie and Things that she wants TO ask
him about come to her mind, and she
goes to meet him wish alaerity; but
1t is evidentlyon no parish affairs that
be has come to see her. As soon as
they are within speaking distance Of
each other he says, 81 wBs passing, 90
1 thought would let you know M