The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1878-07-28

Howe. "dreat Heavenip he cried "she
Ia not-~not worse 2"
"No, mol hope not" said Mr.. Pur-
dy. II sincerely hope there ID nothing
to be apprehended OF q serious nature
but, my dear sir" he pursued, In o low,
trembling voice, sometimes this revul-
sion Of feeling Is dangerous sometimes
joy will kill. And this dear child has
50 long cherished what she has oonsid-
cred d hopeless passion, sentiment,
sir, that has oCcasi0ned unspeakable
sorrow to us all, that we have endeav
ored in vain to curb and repress; and
now. sir, now, when she finds that pas
sion returned, when her life, which has
been Tepressed and shrouded by despair
and sadness, is all at once allowed to
bloom out in the very fuliness Of joy
Oh, Mr.. Howe, God bless you. sir, God
bless you But be careful, be very care
full; remember, my dear sir, that joy
will-sometime kill"
Here Mr. Purdy's voice broke. He
wiped bis eyes with his handkerchief,
and as they had reached the end Of the
corridor, no opened the door softly, let
Mr.. Howe in, then shut it again, leaving
himself out. and Mr.. Howe found him.
self quite alone with Miss Purdy, and
not the pretty Miss Purdy.
For q moment he stood there quite
helpless and forlorn. The rodomon-
tade Of her father, whose wordy ways
had always been n curse to him, still
rumbled in his ears without any intel
| ligible meaning, and the figure on the
couch before bin confused and be-
widered him. 1t held singular grace
and charm. The light burned low, the
fire from the CRATE seemed TO cast u soft
crimson glow over everything the
warm colored shawl that Was spread
about Lily. and the yellow lace ct
her throat and hands upon her hair
that fell back over the pillow
in II purple mass that almost
swept the floor, and some short locks
about her face that had taken caressing
Crinkles he had never noticed before.
And her eyes were wonderful. They
drew him, In spite OF himself, to the
couch, and made him bend over her and
take her cold little hand in his own.
She lifted it to her lips without word,
but her eyes were wonderful. They
spoke whole sweet language Of their
own. A queer sort OF yeaTning tugged
ut his heart He could not toll whether
he was most miserable or most happy
but the ono thought that was uppermOst
In his mind was that here alone he could
find peace and rest and truth and puri-
ty. He sank on his knees by her side,
and put bis lips to her forehead and
whispered, only get well, dear, SO that
/ can have you all to myself"
Even in that sweet movement you see,
he hated the idea Of the rest Of the
Purdyg. But he soon got over that,
and even went to Blanche's marriage,
which speedily followed his own, and
shook hands cordially with the man
that had held his father.in-law mort
gage. He holds it now no longer, Of
course. He long since handed It, over
to Blanche, who in her turn gave it to
her father. But how in the world, you
will ask, did this Mr.. Brewer become as
clay In the hands OF this beautiful and
ingenious potter, Miss Blanche? That
/ do not know; but have said enough
about her various charms and capabili-
ties to make 1t no matter of astonish-
ment. Besides people have no room for
amazement on any other subject than
the one Of Mr.. Henry Howe's marrying
Miss Purdy-not the pretty Miss Purdy