The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1879-03-22

But could not. When tried 10 speak,
the words choked me
jean" she said again presently, what
has come between Maurice and you?
have not heard his voice the last few days"
could not resist tho loving voice, the
gentle questioning. With many sob,
many tear-kueeIug beside her-I told
her all
Poor little sister. Poor little Jean
sh., said softly. But, dear, the cloud will
: pass away, and all will come right in the
end
= 1t cannot-it CANNOT cried Mau
rice is cruel and unjust, and Grace oh,
Nina, wish she had never come to Lin
denhurst"'
The thin, wasted fingers raised nov upon
my head with gentle csIessing ioush;
the face turned towards me wore AZ ex.
preston of tenderest pity.
- ! shall never forget the wrong" burst
forth again with passionate cry. at is
too cruel, too hard to bear. Heaven has
dealt very bitterly with me-
W. Nhit Al SOllIN,
"that Infinite Goodness, Infinite Mercy,
orders and directs for our own good the
most thrilling events that befall us. All.
Jean, believe ii too; see that your faith fail
not. am sorry, too. for Maurice" she
said presently" Maurice, who has shown
me 50 many acts Of thoughtful l,ininess
!; would make me happier. dear, to know
that, when lac asks for your forgiveness
again. you will not refuse IT.
Eut put aside the clingins arms, turned
away from the loving kisses, and walked Ia
the "IuGor. Gazing ont with tear dinmed,
aching eyes upon the SUI kissed trees aud
!inwefs III the garden, | could lind no
words FOR the promise she waited to hear;
the passion was not gone get
Jean, She said, after 4 time, will
You sing, dear my old ?Avcriie?'
With qu.verinS lips and voice which
strnve N vain 10 steady itself, eudeayored
TO comply. But my voice failed utterly.
Never mind, dear. She said. never
mind. il you cannot. feel tired. Kiss
me good night, love"
bent over the poor, thin face with its
hectic flesh. and perceived with pain how
short and labored was her breathing
at Is not night. Mira" | said softly.
The sun is not even near setting"
Il suppose not, dear; but. you know,
day and night are alike to me, and am
very tired
The days speed swiftly by, aud the end
came. One night. worn out with watching
and Borrowing, ! lay down to &c; some rest;
bat, At the hour which follows the one
when night and morning meet, when rosy
AID purple tInis Of dawn flush the eastern
sky, hand was laid ON my shoulder, and,
starting up, behold Barbara There was
no need To question hsr-no need of the
one word Come" Looking into her face.
| knew Mira was worse
Ali me, shall | ever foset 1.-THE calm,
restlul face? Did she RECOGNIZES me, !
wonder, Is bent over her in silent, word
less grief? Who can say? There was a
moving of the lips, a pickering OF the eye
lids; family, bTokeniy, came tho words,
See that your faith fail not, Then the
gentle life ciosed-closed on earth. But
faith e'idged the guilt that separated and
saw beyond light and joy unspsakabls
Not lost, Oh, no-only gone before,
never looked upon my sisters face
ag5in. Brain fever sat in. aud for many n
day lay unmiudful Of all that was passing
around me. II was Mrs. Hunter who tend.
ed mo with gentlest care; it was upon
her kind, motherly face that my eyes rested
when first awoke to Consciousness; and,
when the first hazy, languid wondsrment
as to what happened was succeeded by full
remembrance. it was her kind words that
soothed my bitter outbnrst of grief that
spoke of the better country, that told of
the hopo that | may one day rtioin my
darling, though she should never return To
me. She spoke. too, of the grief that
pressed so heavily upon my father. of the
thankfulness that should ill my heart that
Heaven had spared me to him all that
thoughtful mind, loving heart, could die
a.
rs the weary, sad days slowly passed.
longed to ask after him, but pride kept me
silent.
1t was September now. The Summer
flowers had all faded. and Autumn tints
tuged the foliage of the ,rres and shrubs
Siskles CLEANED amongst the golden grain;
men gathered and garnersd in the fruits of
the boun;eous earth; and my twenty first
birthday drew near. | could walk now in
the garden, with steps that were still feeble
could read to my father, and talk to him
of the one we had loved and who had gone
a little before.
had never yet seen where they had laid
Ter: so, one evening, feeling unusually we'll
aud tempted by It's beauty, | crossed tho
meadow and entered the quiet little church
yard. On went till passed under the
shadow of some great old yews. The small
marble cross, with its new, vivid wilderness
revealed all too plainly that which | sought.
MIRA"
There shall the eyes of the blind be
opened
That was ali; but there was no bitterness
in the tears which fell so fast Death was
swallowed up in victory.
sat on, forgetful of everything save my
own Thoughts and the stars came out one
By one in the dark blue heavens, and
p.le, fair crescent moon arose; yet still |
fingered Sweet was the song of the thrush.
Very faint, very far of it sounded, but it
was ike the soag of the nightingale in the
linden grove. One in yew-tree close
beside me took up an answering strain.
Both sang together now. and food of
rich mellow music iloated around me-
Their melody brought back my thoughts TO
earth-back to the night when had last
seen Maurice. Very close were their voices,
bu, not close as was the one which breath
cd
Loan dear lean am | FORGIVEN -