Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-04-19
GALES and Sketehes.
For the Journal.
THE CHRISTENING ROD.
BY CONSTANCE STERLING.

Until Cecil Desmond was fifteen she
had never known what sorrow was. Her
father was the wealthiest man in Hunts
Vile, and their home was one Of luxury
and beauty. The best of everything was
lavished on Cecil, for she was an only
child. and the darling of her mothers
heart, the pride and delight of her faith
er's. Yet the indulgence she received
did not spoil the beauty of Cecil's charac-
ter. Every day she grew more sweet and
afiectionate. every day she made new
friends by her engaging manners and
besets the wealthy so frequently. Cecil
was as kind and gentle to the daug ghter of
the dressmaker as she was TO Amy Clay,
the daughter of banker.
But the lovely Cecil knew not of the
| storms awaiting her in the future, knew
| not of the thorny pathways her tender feet
| would tread. God in his wisdom merci-
| fully kept from her any intuition of the
| sorrows through which she must pass ere
she rested forever in the silent grave.
Life looked so beautiful to Cecil when
she reached her fifteenth birthday that
she often wondered how women could
appear willing to die and leave behind
| them so much light and gladness, to enter
| trustfully into an unknown beyond. She
was unable to sympathize with the sor-
| rows of those on whom the hand of affic-
| tion had fallen heavily. for she knew not
what it was to sorrow. Cecil belonged to
| no church, followed no creed, and her par
ents though upright and honorable, made
no profession of religion. Church was no
place of worship TO Cecil. She went
| regularly every Sunday because her par
| ents did, and was quiet and respectful
during Mr.. Bells tedious sermons, but
she was always in some day dream or
planning pleasures OF which she would
| be the leader on The morrow, and the
| words of peace uttered in the sacred edi-
| flee made no impression on her heart. She
| was good because it was natural for her
| to be so and because she knew of wicked
ness and misery only in name, not because
a spirit of holiness swelt in her heart.
Cecil's birthday was celebrated with q
grand party, to which all her young
| friends were bidden. At the height OF
| the enjoyment. Mr.. Desmond came In
| looking rather pale and harrassed. For
several weeks he had looked SO, but when
| questioned by his atfectonate wife as to
what caused his evident anxiety, he re-
| piled that he would tell her soon If it be-
came necessary.
Mr.. Desmond stood at one end of the
room, watching Cecil who, attired in pink
silk and lace, was dancing gaily with Vic
tor Clancy, the son OF the most prominent
and successful doctor in Huntsville. The
shadow deepened ON Mr.. Desmond's face
us he watched the young people.
Poor child ~ he murmured, with q
| heavy sigh, chow soon all will be changed
| tor you y
There was a slight stir in the group
gathered about the hall door, and Miss
Ilitty Desmond, Mr.. Desmond's maiden
sister, came toward him with yellow
envelope in her hand.
| "A telegram, brother" she said, in her
clear precise voice 1.-The boy just brought
| it,"
| A cold perspiration broke out on Mr..
| Desmonds forehead as he took the envel-
Ope from his sisters hand and tore il
open.
| As he read, his face became of death
ly whiteness, and he went towards the
door with uncertain steps. But ere he
reached it, ere his sister could hold out
helping hand, he fell heavily to the floor,
the fatal telegram crushed in his hands.
A wild cry burst from Cecil's lips as she
ran forward and threw herself beside her
father just at that moment Dr. Clancy
entered, and at once had his hand over
the heart of the PROSTATE man.
| Paralysis" he muttered. Here, Vic
tor, call John, and both of you help me
carry Mr.. Desmond to his room"
| The colored man hurried in as Victor
called his name in the hall, and the three
carried Mr.. Desmond into his own room.
Mrs. Desmond, frantic with grief, hung
over her husband, and Cecil, who idolized
her father, could do nothing but sob and
wall in one corner of the room.
But Mr.. Desmond never spoke again.
Before the morning came again Cecil was
fatherless. The telegram was from Mr..
Desmonds lawyers, informing him Of the
total failure OF two investments in which
he had risked every penny he had been
able to command. The shock had been
too much and death released MIR. Desmond
from all he would have suffered seeing his
wife and daughter reduced 10 poverty.
For to poverty had they come. The ele-
giant house and grounds were found to be
mOrtgaged to their full value, aud all that
remained for the three women after the
settlement OF the estate, was an income
OF nine hundred dollars a year. which was
The proceeds of small investment Mr..
Desmond had made in his wife's name,
some months before his death, aud which
had proved successful. Mrs. Desmond
felt as though she could not stay longer in
Huntsville. The associations were too
much for the bereaved woman, who sor-
rowed most bitterly for her devoted hus-
band, and yearned Tor the luxurious home
in which she had spent the past eighteen
years. And they therefore removed to
or ,aali 81
miles from huntsville.
On Miss Hitty fell most Of the labor and
anxiety. Her sister-in-law was too nerv-
| GUS and suffered too much from ill-health
to put her shoulder to the wheel, and
Cecil was too young to be OF much service.
Miss Htty rented small cottage in Var
row, hired a competent servant, and took
all the Cares OF the small establishment
on her broad shoulders. To Cecil tell the
care OF her Invalid mother, and well did
| the yOuuU Ulrl DprtOrm her filial dtfiea