The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1879-04-19
lanai, ,.n.,ion. and following an absolute slienc'

yalrty tor q message lIVAi va 'ofS''
shared her burden with no one-otners
might distrust bin, but not she!
Coming In, one evening, from long walk
nmonp the bleak bills, whittier shc had gone
to ease the into,erable aching OF her hear',
she heard the noise OF wheels as her father
returned frsm his nightly Journey TO inc
village post-ofice, and sank down unnotfceu
in dim corner Of the ha'f-lighted room.
He came up the long walk with SLOW,
heavy step, and, throwing wide tue aool,
strobe through the passage-way. ae aia
not see i,er as he passed, and, in her oreath-
less anxiety, she made no SOUND.
~Wife.1 he said, with solemn INTENSITY
OF tone that made her heart leap, "an a",ul
thing has happened. Alas! for the aay
when, in suite OF M better judgment, re-
ceiyed wolf in sleeps clothing under my
rooii All the village is talking OF the news
which tho newspapers have brought 10
NIGHT. II is OF Allan Wilde, Mary. 10
meet debts he had UNDERSTANDING depts-
he forged q note. Detected aud pursued,
with arms in hands, he resisted the olhcets
OF the law, and-paid the forfeit with MS
own life." ar.
A scrcam rang through the room. Mrs.
GRAY fell back weakly in her chair, ana even
her husbands strong limbs tottereo under
him. Marsery came forward from tue
shadow. Colorless as the dead, with the
long white cloak she had not yet removed
falling in heavy folds about her, she might
have seemed standing In her winding-sheet
but for the intense burning Of her eyes as
the freight fell upon her tace. WIN an
numerous gesture she grasped the neWspa..
per in her fathers land, and before ne nad
gathered strength to detain her by wora or
sign she had gone through the long Hai', up
the stairs. and they heard the key turn III
the lock OF her own door.
II Marsery could have died that nlsnt
she would have accounted 1t the sweetest
boon that fate could hold in store; but lie
was too strong in her young VEINS. heoel
as she might against the cruel fortune
which had bcfalcn her, she bad no cholce
hut TO rise the next morning to the nrst OF
the new DAYS, which seemed TO stretch IN
endless procession before her until herVe1y
brain reeled dizzily. One purpose only was
clear in the chaos OF her mlnd-to let no
one sneak to her OF her dead lover. lhere
should be silence. since there were no klnd
words to say. With fierce tenderness
she wrapped his memory in the garment OF
her love, which be had so dlshonoreu. sue
made for him hundred excuses 10 ncr
own heart; yet none the less, Win the pit''
Iess truthfulTcss which was part OF hcr
nature, she bncw that the mere fact OF his
death was TO her less than uothing pcs'oe
/ the wreck OF broken ideal.
| As the long winter wore away, and spring
and summer covered the hills once more
with bud and blossom, Deacon Gray grew
impatient that the color did not return to
Maigery's check and the old light to her
eve. His stern nature might bear with the
first shock OF grief and dismay. but he felt
it now high tine that she should forget all
vain regrets for an unworthy object. I'm
consciously bis manner betrayed his dis
approval, and in proportion her own grew
cod and reserved. From her mothers
weaker nature she had never looked Tor
helpful and compromising sympathy.
Only John Butler, with the keen insight
OF love, read the poor child's heart. lie had
given her little more than an occasion
smile of pleasant greeting in all these
months, yet his whole soul ycarned towards
her in an agony of plying tenderness.
Slowly and trembliusly the hope dawncd
in his heart that she might be won to begin
| with him new life, in which his great love
should atone TO her for the cruel suffering
she had endured.
Allan Wilde had laid for eighteen months
in bis dshonored grave, when Deacon
Gray called Margery, one day, to speak
with her alone.
"Child," he said, II have something TO
say to you which deeply concerns your
welfare. John Butler has spoken to me
OF you to-day. Hc would scarcely expect
me to repeat to you what be has said, but
have thought best to do so that you may
know beforehand my own opinion in re-.
ference to the subject. He has asked my
permission to seek you for his wife,
MQrgery started violently.
ellis wife!" she cried with bitter en-
phasis. "Does John Butler think can-"
She stopped suddenly and wave Of color
swept across her cheeks.
Her father had risen.
"Margery!" he said in voice t.emn-
louS with passion, "listen to me On the
hillside Wonder are the graves OF three OF
my children. Better for the only one left
me that she were laid beside them than to
waste her life in wicked repining for q
scoundrcl who, il he were alive to-day,
would be serving out the penalty OF his
crime in the pententiary !"
He paused, startled at the calm White
ness Of her face. She put up her hand, and
her lips moved for moment without 2
| sound. At last she said:
"Father, it is enough Send John But
Ter to mc?"
"I cannot, Marsery. He gave me no
message for you"
"Thcn will go to him." she answered,
turning with swift, rc$ist!eSs molicn TO the
open door.
"Margery, come back - he called, but
she was gone.
John Butler sat alone in his school-room.
There was quick tap on the door, and,
scarcely waiting for his answer, imagery
entered. Startled at her pallor, he would
have led her to seat, but she gently re-
sisted.
"John," she said, still standing before
! him, "n,y father has told me what you
said to him."
"Hc told you?"
"He told me. Yes, it was better So" she
! answered. IL have come to tell you that
will marry you if you wish. but there is
one thing you should have known. | have
; 'never cared for any one en- that way; but
3but-" The strain had been too great
She sank into chair and burst into storm
lsof passionate weeping.
lie bent over her in an agony OF self
|.reproach. soothing her like little child.
Then, when her Sobs were still:
'"Did you come to me od your own will,
Mar.ery 2"
''sOf my own will"
'"And could you trust me, then, to
cherish and comfort you, and some time
maybe teach you to love ne as Ion my
darling, j have loved you always!"
."I,will t,y," she answered..
He took the little cold hands in his own
| FIR al pft Ie