Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1877-07-20
MARGARET.

MARGARET.
A corridor at the end of one wing of n
large rambling house in the north of En-
gland, barred window, and closed
door. In the passage fair-haired girl
with the light of indescribable pity in her
dove.like eyes, kneeling upon the boards,
and pushing biscuits and sweetmeats un-
derneath the ill-fitting door, which dis
appeared as fast as they were placed
there, showing that there were human
hands to seize them on the other side
Within, another girl as young as the first
not twenty certainly-groveling on the
floor like wild beast, with dark, dis
heveled hair almost hiding the spark of
insanity that desecrated her glorious
eyes, and devouring the precious NOR
sells that her visitant placed within her
reach with the avidity of a hungry child
The room in which she crouched was
not comfortless, but had evidently been
prepared for the reception of such in
mates, and the carefully-guarded win
dow and cushioned walls showed that the
mansion in which it was situated was oc-
cupied by one who made it the business
of his life to receive such unfortunates
into his professional care. In plain
words, private lunatc asylum.
"My poor Leahl" whispered the fair.
haired girl outside, edo you know that
am here, and that love your"
The soft, clear voice was not unheard,
for Leah raised her head for a moment
and sat listening, with the dark cloud
of tangled hair thrown back from the
low forehead and deeply-shaded eye.
brOws But the look of attention passed
away almost as rapidly as it had come,
and in another moment her head was
down again on the floor, and the softly
set lips, that seemed made only to shape
loves whispers, murmured stupidity and
hungrily: "More, more"
Il am going now," said the soft voice
again, "but will come and see you this
evening, with the nurse. Do you hear?
Do you understands"
There was nothing but an inarticulate
murmur in reply though she listened in
vain; and the fair-haired girl rose with a
sigh from her knees, and passed from the
desolate corridor into the more habitable
and cheerful part of the house in which
the physician and his family lived, hav-
ing learned from habit to look lightly on
the empty human shrines of reason that
were sheltered beneath the same roof.
"She is so beautifulm said the girl to
herself as she went down the staircase.
81 hope God does not let her know what
she is now, or she would die, as | should
do"
My dear Margaret" said her mother,
looking up as her eldest child entered
ha I do h
among the patients again?"
have only been to see poor Leah, -"
said Margaret Fenwick, in the same soft
voice which was one of her greatest
charms. :" l must do that, you know, if
nit makes her less unhappy"
Let the child alone, said DR.. Fen
wick. "She will do herself no harm, if
she does nobody else any good. But you
did not work upon Brokers feelings to
give you the key, hope, Madge? The
door was locked, of course?"
talked to her through the door,
that was all" answered Margaret, sim
ply. Papa, do you think she will ever
be like other people again? 1t was only
last week she was sitting here with us
all, and / was teaching her to play the
accompaniment to her songs"
81 know all that" said the physician,
but she is suffering from an acute at
tack of dementia now. She is very
young and may get completely over it,
but then she will be always liable to n
a relapse. A sudden trouble would do
it at any time"
And she has money, tooW sighed Mrs
Fenwick, half enviously, as if it was
sin that so much good material for hap
piness should be wasted. Didn't you
say she had money!"
Thirty thousand pounds, believe, I"
said her husband, dryly; but think
there are thirty thousand good reasons
why nobody should envy her"
p 1t is five years since Margaret Fenwick
knelt at the corridor door, whispering
soft words of love and sympathy to the
unhappy girl inside. She is living in
London with her mother now, for DR..
Fenwick has been dead for some time,
and the establishment at Horewood is
broken up. The gentle charm of her
loveliness is still in its first flower, and, =,
as she fingers over the letter which is in
. her hand, the clear light of happiness is
irradiating her brow and laughing back
from the soft, sweet eyes. The words
that a man writes to his promised wife
could be answered in no more fitting
way:
MY DEAREST CHILD-I have got all the
way TO Wales safely, and the whole family
Is collected here under the paternal roof
needn't say that one thing is wanting to me,
and that, hope, will soon be supplied, for,
OF course, you will come down and spend
Christmas With us.-My father and mother
both want words to express their anxiety to
see you and receive you as a daughter
-WIteand say how soon you can come.
We are very quiet here, but there are ore
or two new people In the village Mrs
Fourier has taken the White House, and her
daughter is regular acquisition. The old
lady is not much, but Leah Fourier PLAYS and
sings diyinely, and is unusually good-look
: Ing Into the bargain. The girls are mad about
You can see how hard up am for any.
thing To tell you when / am forced 20 write
about strangers. suppose you would get
tired Of 1t II l were 10 keep on telling you
that love you, but ] have very few other
Ideas in my head just now at any one time
Besides, isn't IL much pleasanter to tell II
with your dear hand in miner Your own
ARTHUR ASHTON.
Leah Fourierl" repeated Margaret to
herself, dreamily, 81 hope she won't re.
member me. Iwonder whether mad peo-
pie recollect anything that has passed
when they are wellY That would be the
most wretched part of 1t iii"
Leah Fourier is singing I" 81 tn sGDais, 4"
and Arthur Ashton is leaning over the
piano, looking into her magical eyes with
an expression well, which would mean
a good deal with some men, but which is
merely q graceful courtesy, Margaret
tries TO believe, with Arthur Ashton
She has been at Liwyn.y-mawr fort
night now, and has found Leah Fourier