The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1879-08-19
REUNITED.

On a wild October night, Elsie Raymond
sat beside her solitary fireside in deep
thoughtful thought that, truth to tell, was
tinctured by sadness. 1t was not often that
she sat thus, for she was the most cheerful
and busy of little women, the best of sisters
andaunts, and the kindcst of ncighbors This
being the case, she found little leisure for
thought or solitary musings, for, in some
one OF these relations, work enough was al
ways provided for her.
But tonight she seemed to have arrived
ut one of the halting places in her life. Her
young sister Sophia, the last of her charges,
had that morning been married. The old
gray homestead had been left dcsolate when
her smiling face went from it, at least so
Elsie thought. True, she had tribe of
small nephcws and nicccs staying with her,
while their mother, Elsic's sister Mary, and
her husband accompanied the bridal party
on their tour, but they had long been asleep
and there was no token of their presence in
the somewhat prim- m-looking room, except a
great baskct of playthings in a corner, and
boots, and closed by baby Elsie's tiny
bronzcd slippers, that were ranged against
the wall.
Elsie's father had died suddenly, the vic
Tim of fatal accident, and his widow,
overwhelmed by the sad and terrible be-
rcavcmcnt, soon followed him, With her
dying breath she commended her youngest
children to the care of their older sister,
and cXactcd from her n promise that she
would devote her life to them. The girl
could hesitate at no demand made in the
last feeble accents of her diving mother.
She lifted the little unconscious babe from
the feeble arms that clasped 1t, and holding
it close to her bosom, and looking upon the
fearful faces of the little group gathered
around that dcath-bed, gave the required
promise.
In an hour her mother had ceased to
breathe, and Elsie's lifc-work had begun.
But it was not until the sad ceremonies of
the funeral was over, and the little family
had returned to the dcsoate home, that
Elsie fully comprehcnded all that she had
undertaken
None who have truly loved will fail to
comprehend the struggle that for the fol-
lowing weeks went on in Else's soul. 1t
was no slight sacrifice that was demanded
OF elsie; duty and love, her promise to the
dead and her VOWS to the living, were the
antagonists that contested every inch of
ground. John Francis loved Elsie full well
enough to have aided her in her life task.
lie saw no reason in the duties she had un-
dcrtakcn why she should not fulfill her
VOWS, and in becoming his wife divide the
burden of her responsibilities and care.
But she thought differently. She felt
that she had no right to allow his generosity
to lead him into such a sacrifice. He was
young and life lay bright and long before
him. Should she allow tho shadow of her
care to project across the sunny path g.
Should she seek to lay upon his shoulders
the burden that weighed her down and
doomed her to a life of lifc2 She could
endure and sacrifice much for the children,
go dear to her by ties of blood-the sacred
legacy of her dead parents But to him
they were nothing, save for her sake, and
she might have seen him grow weary and
discontented with the untimcly cares that
marriage with her must throw upon him.
So Elsie and John Francls parted, as they
feared, forever. When her lover found
that no arguments nor prayers could change
her purpose, that she had socmnly recorded
her vow to tho dead, and was fully pre-
pared to perform it to the uttcrmost, even
to the sacrifice of her dearest hopes and
most cherished wishes, he disappeared from
the neighborhood without farewell to any
who had known him.
After time letter came to the parish
clergyman to tell that he was safe, and
about to sail for foreign land, and from
that hour, for all those twenty years, no
tiding Of John Francis had fallen on Elsie
Raymond's cars. When she knew that he
was gone and would not return, she very
carefully gathered together every little me-
mcnto of tho happy season of her love, and
locked them in tho casket he had given her,
thenceforth to be the shrine Of her affec-
tiohs. Then, sternly and uncomplainingly,
she turned to her life task.
i Year after year rolled on. Elsie spun
and wove, and directed her maidens and
her farm laborers, and taught and n,lrsed
her brothers and sisters, and in all things
strovc to supply to them the place of the
parents they had lost.
In time tho wounds of her heart healed,
mt last they ceased to bleed at every touch,
and she learned to find solace in the affec-
tion Of her children, rs she called them,
while habit made her duties light, and al
most pleasant.
The midnight hour had already passed
when Elsie rose to retire. Her long, lonely
vigil had made her timid and nervous, and
she could hardly repress a shrek Of alarm,
!, MS just at that moment heavy knock was
heard at the outer door, and resounded
through the house
But Elsie's only thought was Of sum-
mons to some sick or dying bed, for in that
quiet neighborllood, people were seldom