The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883, 1878-06-06
,acrsd thing, When suddenly q though

came to her-Frcd, little Fred; her
pmmiseto her niother.., 4it.;s s1
'You forget that have Fred, she
s.sssi. "What could do with hin?'
"po? Leave him to yonr aunt. You
can see him every day. The care oi
him is tpo much for you, anyhow, Ma
1bel. Ishall be glad when yon are nc
Longer able to assume it.. He, is q big
boy now, but she can do all that is
Ineelful." gi1ssGp es Hsg ~ eAiEt tr6
| no, Ralph" she answered very sad
|ly now; II can never give Fred up. ]
promised motherlon her dying bed, he
should be my first tboughtin life, and
| my promise ! mean to keep. / see now
this sweet dream was not for me. y
"And you would give me up? Much
you care for me, if you can let that boy
come between us.
'',.Oh, Ralph, don't say that! What
everselse yoa do, do not doubt my love.
Think how lonely, how poor. my life
fafa Be- : dear, wit'sout' yyosi: Bns az not
TASK me to break my promise to the
Idead.' =-ses1 sqs 5iuos Vii 3 l,,fraf
''It was one which should never have
been exacted," was the reply. 9"Mabel.
the boy viii be well cared for. You
can see him when you choose. Darling,
life has other duties for you, the duties
of wifehood, pray Heaven, Of mother
hood, when children of your own may
need your love. ~, -e- ~. .s.s.
"And think you. Ralph" she answers,
amid her tears, II could hope for
blessing while I had been untrue to
lone left in my care-the brother who is
sacred to me, to whom l am mother and
sister both? was wrong even for a
moment to dream of happiness. You
soon will find it in another form; but
fII-'h y 3ir '@& rs 'ul-
| "Then bring the boy to our home, {"
he answered, half roughly. HE is a
weakly, whining lad, but have enough
for both. can't give you up.
"No, Ralph" and this time she
spoke with new resolution and no tears.
t"Yoa soon would weary of him. could
mot do justice to You both, and were you
lunkind to him it would break my heart.
SO long as he lives shall never marry.
l can, at least, render up my trust ful>
filled All is over, Ralph, between you
and ms, except the memory of the past. "
$50 this is the end to your love-ihis
what your fine protestations meant! A
memory. eh? You leave me that? A
memory to push me onward to destruc.
tion. 1t is your work! Remember
that, and whatever comes, keep your
memory closer to your heart" e'- g..
SO he left her, and with the gates of
Heaven shut in her face, just as they
were opening TO receive her, Mabel
wended her way slowly back alone.
So now must her pathway be in life
alone. Never before had she realized
its sadness and It's desolation.
The months which followed were full
of bitterness. Sometimes. as she walk
ed, Ralph Raymond would reel past
her, his business neglected, his manhood
forgotten; or she would hear his name
mentioned in terms of reproach, where,
ever before, it had been Of praise.
He had, indeed carried out his threat,
aud if he remembered, it served but to
10 drive him to destruction.
She was young to have such lines of
care, such weary look III the gray
eyes, she thought, as she peered into
the mirror; then Fred's voice would
call her frettully, and, with sigh,
again she would take up her cross.
But one afternoon, in answer to his
name, no voice responded, and as the
hours went by and the shadows lengths
ened, she grew anxious, and went here
sasd there seeking him; and, after long
and fruitless search, the neighbors were
at last reused, and dread struck to
every heart.
He had wandered on the moor. The
coal>pits was the first distracting
thought, which dotted here and there,
an open trap for the unwary. What
child feet could hope, in the darkness
to have escaped them?
All night the search continued, when,
as the dawn was breaking. a party who
had been rioting away the hours came
upon group with lanterns.
a"For whom are you looking?' said
Que of their number. af
% "For little Fred Halford. He has
strayed away"
The lest passed carelessly OF, but on
one the name fell like knell, and he
turned mechanically to join the seekers.
Little Fred Halford, did you say?'
he questioned at last, in hoarse tones.
"Yes, " said one of the men. roughly.
'But You can be Of little help. You'd
better go home and go to bed"
where is his sister," lie ntinued.
unloading the words addressed him.
"She is somewhere. looking like one
distracted. It's my opinion it's only
his body we'll find.''
Only his body! Poor little fellow.
who had stood an impossible barrier
between him and the girl he loved. Had
it not been for his little life she would
now have been his @bride-perhaps the.
mother of his child-and now It may.
hap was ended. He would go to her,
would console her grief, would wipe
away her tears. and fnd happiness for
both after long waiting. But-ah! was
| he now worthy of such boon?
He glanced at his disordered dress,
felt the flush upon his cheek, on which
the morning air blew go refreshingly,
remembered how the late hours had
L. Z 49, Z 4