The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1878-02-09

LaDQS lAlu on my suOuluOIJ huu hS4 N'aNf
deep eyes fixed on mino- fixed IN miHo,
Tor Their light was In my brain and soul:
that memory will not perish SO long as |
have eyes or soul, here or hereafter. L
bowed my head and wept, and she never
shed one tear. l implored, and she was
calm. NO, no, MOI that terrible WORD
was reiterated again and again and again:
"And what shall do whittier shall
l go tor hope On earlhP said l.
aud she came close TO me, Philip, as
| stood with my head beat forward, and
she lifted her beloved face close up to
mine, and she put her arm, her small
white arm, around my neck and whisper
ed, Love Glare, StephenP and her lips
were on mine one instant, one thrilling
instant-yet, Phillip, one eternity OF
emoti) IN and she was gone.
"And Glare stood ten PAGES from me,
with her head bowed over the rail; and
when it was all over and staggered to-
ward her, she took my hands in hers and
held them in close clasp, and said bat
one word
"'Stephen!
"My sister Clare!'
"And then she wept. l never saw her
weep before, and now it was but Tor 8
moment, and she drew me away, and L
obeyed her.
"More than year passed with the
swlftness of thought, and had never left
the seclusion of my country house. Glare
left home in the early autumn to pass the
winter in the city. During the year
after my parting from Lily it would be
vain to deny that l often REQUIRED TO her
last words, sealed, as they were, with that
last thrilling kiss, and, when / looked in
to the face of beautiful Glare, it did not
seem so very difficult to obey. To wor-
ship is not to love. l worshiped Glare
l bowed before her royal beauty, her
clear intellect, her noble soul. In the
year that passed 60 dsrkly over me she
was constant light, companion, COM
forter; and when she went away felt
the blank more than | could have be
lieved possible. In the middle of De-
cember l was called TO the city by per-
emptory business, and went with reluct-
ance, intending to return within week.
81 found my business more perp .ex'ng
than | had anticipated, and after q few
days | determined to look up Glare. Re.
lying upon my intimacy to pardon an
evening call l went at late hour on
Christmas Eve and found myself IN
crowded rooms, having, as l now found,
stumbled on an evening party. L DID
not retreat, for the house OF my sisters
friend was one of my own houses in old
times, and l was not disappointed in my
reception.
"Clare was the centre of brilliant
circle, and at home rs queen among her
subjects. l believe that thrill OF mo-
mentary jealousy passed over me as |
saw her, and l looked simply over the
group tor one on whom she would be
likely to waste one of her royal smiles.
But she gave me such welcome that my
foolish jealousy, if it existed, was gone on
the instant.
"The hours sped swiftly with dance
and song. 1t was near midnight when l
stood with Glare near the library, while
ell the party were In the sapper-rooms.
A servant entered with q note, saying
it had been brought by man, now at the
street door, with urgent haste. Stop
will get the note
Wilson crossed the room, opened q
desk and private drawer, and returned,
bringing in his hand small yellow note
stained with that ineiiaceable stain, incl
isceabe from paper, check or heart OF
man--the traces OF tears.
"They are not my tears, Phillip. They
are Clare's."
"'Clare, Clare, come to me before l
die. David will bring you. Do you
know, Glare, where Stephen isl Send
HIM word to come, TO come quick; quick.
Clare, for fear-l hOpe-yes, | hope l
shall not see the New Year. Bat come
tonight, Clare, if you would zee me, for
God knows whether shall see the
Christmas morning. LILY
awe were wrapped in cloaks and at
the front door in an instant.
"'You here, DaVid2'
"Yes, sir. | have never left Miss Lily
since you told me to stay with her,
ale led US up one street and down
another until we came to an obscure
street, running west from Broadway to
the North River, and house halt way
down this, At which he paused and
knocked.
"'W hos there?'
"The doctor and nurse
1.-THE door opened and we entered.
al did not know then, ~ l have since
known, the appearance OF the splendid
room INTO which we passed. 1t WAS q
he'll. You know what that is. The up
per portion of the house WAS devoted to
the private rooms OF Mr.. Ray and his
family. The lower part WAS arranged
in gambling-rooms. gorgeously furnished,
in which we heard the sounds of the
money on the boards and the quick, sharp
commands of the banker, succeeded by
the silence that waits the turn of the
card. Passing through the hall and Il
sort of reCeption-roOm We assembled q
broad fight of stairs and entered room
that was dark and gloomy, aud unmis.
taksbIy the abode OF sickness.
"'Haye you come, dear Glare"
al have, and have brought Stephen
with me-
"There was strange half cry, half sob
from the bed, and advanced towards 1t.
"Pbillip, in that diE light l saw the
radiance OF hesyen again, and over it
was the very light of God, into the outer
circles OF which she had already passed,
and into the central glory of which she
WAS soon to be gone.
"Shall tell You all tho horrible story
she now told US? How she had been
compelled to preside a. the foul fessts
which her father gave; how she hgd been
forced to admit the presence of gamblers
and hsrlot:; how night after night she
had sttigen with lndescribsble sgony 20
induce her parent to abandon this ter.
rible life, and how sll in vain? You will
ask why she clurg 10 il? Why she did
not abandon him forever? will tell you,
Phillip.
"She sent out Clare for moment and
then she told rae all.
"Philip, she loved me- with unu::er-
sble love Yet, | knew that before. But
once, IN the las. spring time of our happy
m not krl- 10