The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1878-05-02
The Silver Lining.

"Eyery cloud has its silver lining"
but it seemed to Helen Livingstone that
there could be none 10 her sorrow-cloud,
1t was so dark and heavy.
And yet her home was a most luxu-
rious mansion, she had everythir
money could buy, she was yet young,
and very beautiful. But there is one
sorrow riches cannot avert-death. Two
years ago her husband, proud, noble
hearted Edward Livingston, died. That
almost crushed her, but she bore up for
the sake of his son-her bright-eyed,
golden-haired Eddie.
And now Eddie was gone. And
since the day they laid him beside his
father, all her energy was gone. All
her hopes and interests in life left her,
and all day long she lay upon the sofa
or sat in a deep leunglng chair in her
darkened chamber, scarcely eating food
enough to sustain life, refusing to see
any friends except her own family,
and resisting all entreaties to go out for
breath of air.
And here her sister, Mrs. Maxwell,
found her, as she came one bright
morning, and bringing breath OF
Heavens fresh loveliness into the close,
perfumed and heated chamber.
"Come, Helen, do come out for lit
tie ride" she entreated. "I've brought
my own carriage and ponies, and I'll
drive you myself. 1t is such a lovely
morning! Please, HelenW
But Helen only turned wearily on
her sofa.
mo, no, Sue! How can you ask
ME ?"
"It will do you good, Helen" pleaded
Sue.
81 don't want to be done good. l
only want to be let alone. | never
want to leave this room until I'm car
ried out as poor little Eddie was"
moaned Helen.
"And that won't be long, Pm think
ing, if you are allowed to go on in this
fashion," muttered Sue, under her
breath, while she said aloud, using a
last argument, "Please come, Helen.
Wen drive out to Laurel Hill and take
some flowers to Edward and Eddie"
But still the mourner only sighed,
"No, Sue, nor' l send flowers out
every day. But l can't go myself;
don't tease me, Sue"
Poor Sue stood still, her bright eyes
full of tears, looking at her sister for
little while. Then she turned abruptly
and left the room without another
word. And she drove her pretty ponies
straight to the house of dear old Qua
ker friend-in two senses-into whose
presence she carried her petition.
"Aunt Rachel, do please go and see
Helen !" she begged 81 can't do any
thing with her-none of us can, and if
YOU can't / don't know what will be-
come of her"
"Tbee knows | will do what | can,"
softly returned Rachel Dalrymple. "Sit
thee down here and tell me all about
Helen"
And having heard, Aunt Rachel
donned her dove-colored plumage, and
went in Sues carriage to the mourn
er's home.
"The servants will not want to ad-
init you, but don't be denied v said Sue
MS Aunt Rachel got out.
The dear old lady nodded, and when
the door was opened she walked in at
once.
IL have come to see Helen Living
stone," she said.
"Mrs. Livingstone does not see vlsi-
tors" exclaimed the waiter.
"She will see me. will not trouble
thee to 60 with me-" she said, as she
continued straight up to Helen's dark
ened chamber.
Entering with soft tap, she crossed
the room and took Helen's thin, white
hand.
81 have come to see thee, Helen" "
she said, softly. "But cannot say |
do see thee--thy chamber Is too dark,
dear"
She walked at once to the window,
and drew aside the heavy curtains, let
ting In food of golden sunlight.
"oh, the light, mcaned Helen, turn
ing away her head
"We cannot live without the light,
nv dear" said Aunt Rachel, returning
to u seat close beside Helen "Now
Helen" she said, gently, al am older
than thee, and I've been through the
deep waters oftribulation. Tell me all
thy troubles, and | will help thee II
can"
The gentle words and tones went TO
Helen's heart, and she burst Into tor
rent of such tears as she had not shed
before since her bereavement.
Two or three hours Aunt Rachel
staid, and continued her tender minis
trations. and when she left she had won
from Helen n promise that she would
no longer nurse her sorrow In selfish
loneliness, but go about In the world