The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1878-08-15

poor uttte HOmeslck stranger! I'm going,
to send her some lilies that somebody sent
me yesterday-part Of them, mean--she
came from ! land of lilies. Just where
did you find her, Philip" "''
ION the Island OF Barbados, IN one Of
the contest nests you can imagine. Poor
child don't doubt she longs for her
native wilds- the orange trees, tho shade
full bamboos, and her hammock. 1 was
barbarian to covet bel" ( : :"
II must see her Often" said Laura. II
will 90 a. often as car" III
"Thank you; you are so kind and
thoughtful. I knew you would like the
poor little wife, Sometimes I reproach
myself sadly for bringing her here, but
what could / do-starve?" And we came
pretty nearlt."
20 Philip!" said Miss Laura, with a
shuddering voice, $50 poor as thata"
held my breath. Philip was mar
ried, then. It was his wife Miss Laura
had been to see that morning. No need
to fear for the rector's happiness now
my suspense and suspicion had been both
foolish and groundless.
"Poor< indeed!" he repeated, most saw
agely. "Do you know if it had not been
for that City dollars you lent me, she
would have suffered for the necessaries Of
life2 And when went to my uncle, and
told him had lost my money com4ng
over, and almos: my life. he made ne an
allowance of ten dollars week. What
would he say if he knew I had married a
woman not worth one penny2 1t would
| be total ruin to me If he knew OF it; but
| am sure, dear cousin, that you will
never, by look or word, to your dearest
friend whisper the intelligence. l would
have kept it secret, even from yOu--
indeed I w1uld-but that feared the
poor little creature would die if she did
not see some friend. Above all, don't
whisper it to the priest" he whispered;
I'm afraid OF him." and I fancied he
drew nearer her.
"You need not be; he is the sou\ OF
HONOR and there was slight shade OF
contempt in her voice.
"But you have promised" he said.
eagerly.
"And know how to keep my word"
the ans vere2, proudly.
! After that he was very gay, but think
his manner Jared upon her mood. She
proposed that he should 70 up stairs AMI
see her mother. who had asked for him,
and together they left the room. 1t did
not take long for me to gain my own
room, where sat down to revolve things
in nay mind, coolly and dispassionately.
Mr.. Waldcron had sent her the lilies.
and the accompanying note-of that
did not doubt There had probably been
some misunderstanding the evening be-
fore, and the gift was peace Offering
The lovers quarrel, if it had taken so
serious complexion, had been caused in
some way by the handsome cousin, who
had burdened Miss Laura with his secret
The rector hat evidently learned of her
former attarhmel to Philip, and per-
haps, being but mortal, was jealous
His brief visit in the afternoon had con
firmed me in my opinion, as he general
ly stayed to tea.
snow, Philip should certainly keep
away" said Reason and Common sense
His place is beside mis-. poor young
wife, especially if she is sick; and Miss
La "a ought to tell him So"
But Philip chose to come, often-at
all hours. Philip chose to attend St..
Paul's, and show his beautiful Greek
profile in Miss Laura's own pew, and l
tancied that Mr.. Walderon grew uneasy,
for certainly Laura's cousin did not act
like q Benedict. am sorry that he
gave me occasion to suspect. sometimes.
that he was quite mean enough to pique
the rector by his lover-like ways toward
his cousin.
One evening I came down the wide
staircase on an errand for Miss Knox.
Only the moonlight shone in the hall.
Miss Laura stood by the door Of entrance,
her back toward me, and the wo.ds she
said came distinctly to my ear.
"1f you cannot trust me, if you cannot
take my simple word, Mr.. Walderon,
there can be no more between US. If you
cannot trust me wholly" and there her
| voice broke. A low murmur came in re-
Spouse, and he was gone.
was back in Miss Laura's room some
time before she came up. Oh, how pale
she was, and her eyes wore such strain
ed, hard look!
"Renie," saiu she, =" are you here2''
"Why, Miss Laura, don't you see me2'
asked, frightened at her pallor, and
| AAC way sue l4Ovcu utI uduUS.
mo; my head is giddy; it is all dark;
it is--all over. Where are you"
caught and led her to the chair, but,
as put her down, she tainted quite
| away. That was the commencement of
serious illness. For nearly five weeks l
sat beside her, listening to her wild. de-
lirious talk, and there l learned how de-
| votedly she had loved the rector of st.
Paul's church, and that some of the med
ding people of his congregation had told
him OF her clandestine meetings with her
cousin. This, with other information of
like nature, and the foolish freedom of
her cousin himself, had led to total DIS
ruption. In her grief and anger at his
want of confidence in her, she had for
hidden him the house.
Night and day did not leave her bed
side, till, quite through accident, l learned
that MIR. Walderon had been sick also,
and was on the eve OF Journey to Eng
land.
He looks dreadfuily; you'd hardly
know him for the same man." said M
informant; aud I knew by her manner
that the blame was all laid at Miss Lau
ra's door. inquired the particulars.
Ii my informant was right, he was to
start that very afternoon.
My resolution was taken on tie instant.
Whether my mistress lived or died,
whether was violating promise or not:
[ was determined to see the rector of St.
Paul's and tell him all. 1t took me but
short time to find the rectory-- would
he be at home? Yes; I was shown into
the library. There were trunks and
packages in the hall, and general con-
fusion pervaded the house. Presently
MIR. Walderon came in. I was startled,
indeed, by the change in his looks.
II have just come from the sick bed
of Miss Laura De Neale," said I.
He stared, made gesture with hls
hand across his brow, as if to shade his
eyes, and his lips worked.
! IL heard ---that al,e WA i'll {" he aid