The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1879-03-01

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tentions. He was often the subject of re.
mark from his striking face and manner
but when oil the queries had been asked
and unanswered, they said, "There must
be o reason for oil this, and time will tell
ill., We" '''
He had been touched in heart by
Marsh's utter helplessnesS. lie knew,
better than any body else, what q center
she had been 10 his thought and 10 lis az.
tections. He sympathiZed with him. Per.
laps the doors oi Ills own inner sanctuary
locked for half.sCOre years, might swing
back Just once, and let weary friend
come In and find consolation.
Come tonight, Marsh, and ] will talk
with you. Goodbye Till them
Alone and unperceived, he stole out to
SIT under the majestice shadows Of Mont
Blanc, and worship. Nobody with q God
IN Ills heart ever stands there, without
holding close communion with Him, No
wonder that the lofty peaks, eChoing can.
ons and 'wondrouB waterfalls Of our own
country, have written the names Of more
than one poet on the pages Of American
literature. Such scenes are the nurseries
In which great minds develop. Such
grand handiwOrk OF the Builder draws
man very near to him.
Burton Conc had never forgotten the
scenes through which he had passed.
Though some things had been laid away
and sealed with The seal Of silence for
over dozen years, they were fresh 20
him rs though they had taken place that
very morning. Perhaps he did not need
sympathy as some need II; perhaps he did
not wish to burden others with his feel.
ings. ...
1t seemed almost twilight in the room,
the lights were turned down so low.
"Sit down, Marsh, till we talk OF the
past. You have wondered II there is any
thing back Of this life you have known.
Aye, much! Very much! You have won.
dered II | ever loved, and why l did not
love some one now, when so reverence
woman. Away back In New England, in
n little town near u beautiful city on the
Connecticut, sthe home Of my childhood.
That Is precious to me, though have not
seen II for years. Near 1t is large brick
house, painted white, with long rows OF
tlrs and pines leading to 1t. 1t looks like
an old castle. In that home was a Young
girl who from childhood was my ideal.
We played together as children, We roam
ed through woods and meadows; we read
and sang and talked Of things beyond our
years, because her nature held me above
myself. She was not beautiful to others,
perchanCe, but TO me, her large dark eyes,
high brow and glossy hair, with her quiet,
dignihed manner, made her queen. She
never seemed to do wrong. She had To
ask no ones forgiveness. She never made
mistakes. She had no need for regrets.
Nobody thought TO be rude or rough to
Mary Fairchild, or in her presence. She
was always calm, always genial and kind,
always considerate. She had never seem.
ed like the rest OF US. fancied she had
been sent from heaven to keep our earthly
minds and tastes somewhat akin 10 theirs.
! always feared she might at any time
take her departure to the land where she
seemed rightly to belong.
"She went away to receive her educa.
ton, and l studied hard to make myself.
II possible, some day worthy Of her. DC.
caslonally she wrote, and those letters
seemed to me- OF peculiar value. read
each one over and over again, till knew
every word and how every letter was
made. The slightest allusion to friendship
for me seemed mine Of joy, and put
the letter next my heart to read as often
as | should get little leisure. She never
gave me encouragement that she loved me
more than others, always treating US all
in the same gracious, kindly way. was
naturally timtd, and though did not tell
her | loved her, my desire TO be in her
company, my extreme joy when / met her,
my blushing cheeks and my glad eyes,
must have told her over and over aguin
that | ldolized her. was active, ener.
getic, ardent, hut | lacked her spirituality
and finer qualities OF soul. She reveled
in all that was beautiful and artistic.
never expected that she could love me as
| did her. thought her nature too ethe-
real, but hoped that l might sometime
live in her presence and be guided BY her
blessed spirit in my daily life.
Nothing could have been farther re-
moved from coarseness or passion than nv
love for Mary Fairchld. never pressed
my lips to hers. SO could be near her,
hoar her voice and live in the sunshine OF
herself, | was content. went out from
her society a better man each time, |
would go any distance, endure any ex-
posure, so | might but feel the blessed
light of her eyes come into mine. Inever
jOked with her as | might others. never
used her name before any person. never
wrote it carclessly. Everything pertain
ing to her was sacred as the heaven which
/ some ime expected to enter. NY high
est though t was her happiness, not mine.
My ambition, my hopes, my prayers, all
conferred in that one desire to walk beside
her in the beautiful journey Of life. When
any person coupled my name with hers in
pleasantly, felt as though they had
touched name that was hallowed, and
changed the subject. longed to be con.
stantly in her presence, yet dared not
trouble her too much; so between desire
to hover near her and fear OF being an an
noyance rather than q Joy, my soul was
constantly harassed. l had often pledged
myself to ask her to accept my homage,
and though had means and social posi-.
ton and education, everything seemed
unworthy OF her. What Il she refused to
be my guide forever? Life then would
be worse than useless, 80 hoping and
praying, I waited. and my worship grew
as the months went by. Every flower
that she loved l pressed and laid away In
the books ! had seen her read. Every
kindly word she gave me made me joyful
for days, Every touch Of her hand thrilled
me with delight, and | lived over the bliss
Il thousand times in memory. Once, re.
member, when gave her a picture OF N.Y.
self, and she looked at 1t long and earnest.
ly, thought, and her dark hair touched
mine, was too happy for words to ex.
press il.
"0ther young men called upon her and,
like myself, showpd her Difference that be-.
longed TO q pure, beautiful woman, Girl
though she was In years. Among them
was q noble young man, the perfection OF
manly grace and the embodiment OF man
" virtues. Alfred Trumbull was n preach.