The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1878-03-02
h.r: later. You may find j! more diff.

us all. Mrs. Vereker had her son, and
the two found marvellous attractions In
| the Quaint, narrow streets with their
| palace portals, their courts and halls,
where iountsins spsrkled and flung
diamond OF spray round the brows OF
pure, fair statues, where in the GOODNESS
and the shadow, golden orange trees and
thick masses Of crimson blossom CLEANED
with sudden startling glory.
had my idol. Day after day was
bv her side. II was FOOLS paridIse. per-
haps, but suppose there is such an Eden
in every lie, and looking back, when we
have left its short lived peace, we valnly
long for q single throb OF its rapture. So,
during those quiet days at Genoa, each
of US, except Mary Mayne, had our
hesrt's desire; Willie. the life, the color,
the loyIiness he and his Gwendoline
sought in voyages to many lands; Mrs.
Vereker, her son; |, my new delirious.
ioy. There on the terrace where we
were standing, l first spoke to Mary,
and heard her tell me my love was hope
less. she told me her story.
Her wedding day had been fixed. In
q year she was TO have been married to
man she loved with her whole heart;
when the war with Russia broke out,
aud Gordon Frazer's regiment was Or
dered 10 the Crimea. He and Mary
wished TO be married before he left, but
family reasons prevented it, and 80 they
parted. He had never returnetto Eng.
land. A soldier brought Mary little
locket which she had given Gordon. Inc
ribbon it hung upon was thickened here
and here with deep dark strains; and
the man said Gordon Frazer had given
it to him to take to Mary, when the
young officer lay dying after the charge
at Balsklsvs 1t was only the story OF
many an English and many Russian
girl during that dreadful time. When
\ strong, self.contained nature breaks
down, it is almost utter collapse; so 1t
was with Mary. For months she lay
silent, fearless, iistlessly unable to make
the slIgh exertion, to take the small
est interest in life. Her friends thought
her brain had suffered from the shock; and
when she recovered sufficiently to travel,
Mrs. Vereker had taken her abroad,
where they had been moving from
place to place ever since. Her
body regsined health, she was now quite
strong; but tho girls hesrt and soul
seemed dead; as she said, dead, and buried
| in Gordon Frazer's grave. Yet as L lis
| tened did not despair. l had no Nv
ing rival; he WAS dead, this man she low
ed; while my heart was beating, living,
and strong with its worship OF her. 1t l
kar % no INV
dead love would pale and faint be-
fore my real end passlnste devotion. 30
hoped, as day by day | watched her
every look. forcstalled her every wish,
until she grew accustomed to my pres.
ence and to rely upon my care. My
, hopes were answered; ere long l won her
reluctant consent to be my wife, but on
the condition that our marriage should
not take place until their return to Eng
land next year.
The rosy clouds were fading into the
deep purple of Italian night. Silence
Tell around US as a mantle; only the throb
| of the sea below the terrace broke the liz
tense quiet. Out on the sea shone the
white sails of little yacht. Nearer,
within the hsrbor, rose the masts and
spars OF many ships, mysterious, specter-
! like, rs ships always look at night. AS
We we're seated in calm enjoyment of the
scene, small boat shot out from the
rocks beneat our feet, where lay some
hidden cave or lsnding-plsce. 1t was
rowed by two men; a third sat wrapped
| ia large cloak in the stern. They
rowed well, aud the boat Was
nearly mile from us, leaving bright
line of light upon the shining water,
when ey broke the calm of the night
a wild, weird cry, with agony in its
tone. "Gor1o l never have heard
its like since, and l never shall again.
In its sgonized tone could scarcely
recognize the voice OF Mary, so changed
was it, so shrill with long pent-up yesrn-
ing, as it walled out that one word
"Gordon!' The cry seemed to be re-
peated again and again, though softened
by the echoes, while the little boat sped
on its way, and its passengers- mere
dark specks they seemed-climbed into
the Yacht. The white sails cleaned
against the horizon, and then, phantom
| like, were lost in its dim purple.
l turned and looked At Mary. She
stood with her eyes fixed on the dark
ness which hid the yacht from sight, her
hands clssped upon her heart, her face
drawn and colorless. feared the fate
her friends dreaded for her had stricken
her as she stood beside me there in the
still, luxurious twilight. MARY, my
dearest, my own what is it2" taking her
hand and drawing il closer.
She drew her hand from mind, and,
shuddering away from me, leaned against
the stone psrapet, resting her head on
the cold marble coping.
"You are i'll; let me take you home,
darling" / said.
NO" she murmured, mot i'll. But
OBJ" she exclaimed, Harry, Harry my
good, kind friend, help mel Gordon was
near us just now. l felt it; l am sure OF
it. You will help me to find him, will
yol not!'
Help her to find him help to break
nv own hesrt-to bruise this new found
sweetness out of my litel The very
thought struck me with sudden chill.
What if this fancy of hers, coming so
close upon my sure forebcdings, should
be a reslitv2 What if Gordon Frazer
were still in exis,ence2 | thrust the
thought from me ss l should thrust q
temptation. Il will help you in any
way l can, my darling" l said; "but
come in now, the night air 10 chilling,
and YOU are giving way to teverish fan
cies."
"No," she said, "its no fancy. Draw.
ing herself up YEARLY, she turned with
out looking at me, and | followed her
down the terrace and across the marble
court Of the old palace which was our
home in Genos. | watched her glide,
ststcly and pale and quiet, up the broad
white staircase.
II was months before she recovered
from the brain fever in which she swoke
next morniug-such awful months, dur
ing which we often feared the worst.