Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1879-04-24
Au original St|org.
THE BARSTOWS.
BY VICTOR VERNON.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer

Four wears have passed away. Time, with
its magic of healing, has cured some wounds
and spread oblivion over others After the
rapid sequence of events which wrought such
changes, sweeping down upon the principal
personages in this history with suddenness
and violence that seemed to take away their
breath, period of dead, unchanging calm
ensued. Mr.. Courtaine. accepting as inevita-
BILE the fate which had come in the way of his
daughters happiness, softened the calamity
or tried to soften it, as best he could, to both
the young people whose prospects in life were
thus rudely marred To Wilfred he extend
ed the continuation of his friendship and es-
TEEN, leaving no means untried to prove to
him how sincere was his sympathy, how deep
his regret, and using every effort to advance
him in his profession, which, (after short
period of inaction and lethargy,) he took up
again, and, having been admitted to the bar
pursued with an energy worthy of the most
complete success. He absorbed himself in
his work; he read day and night; he allowed
himself no rest no time for thought: He
made Fame his object, and never tagged
upon her track. Steadily he was approach
ing her nearer and nearer became his ad-
vance to the desired goal. Already he had
made his mark, and people began to talk
of him in the highest terms Ralph being
dead, he had consented to keep his fathers
name. Some whispers of his story had been
scattered abroad. But they were fragmentary
and underlined No one outside his immedl-
ate circle of friends ever learned its true de-
tails
As to Daisy, her father, after trying varl
GUS means of rousing her into her former
cheerfulness at home, fell upon the expedient
of sending her, with her mother, abroad.
Business prevented his accompanying them;
but they went under excellent care, and with
every appliance for their comfort and for the
qualification of their wishes and taste. Daisy
never complained, never gave way, appa-
>rently, to lamentations or tears, She even
seem pleased at all that was done for her,
and tried to take an interest in everything
new that she saw; but the effort was evil
dent. Her old lighthearted manner was
changed to subdued demeanor quite foreign
to her; her pleasure in life was gone. Mrs.
Courtaine wrote that she was well-she gave
no cause for anxiety. But she did not seem TO
enjoy the journey as much as they had hoped.
They went from London to Paris, from Paris
to Berlin, from Berlin to Rome. They trav-
eled through Italy, through Switzerland.
through Germany, through France then
back again to England, then through the
Highlands of Scotland. They visited friends
in several places they went everywhere, saw
everything, did all that travellers are expect
ed to do. But Daisys spirits never rose !;
she was still subdued, spiritless, dull she was
gentle, yielding, always amiable, but never
glad-never gay. Her mother, naturally rath-
er frivolous, and fashionist Of long standing
in worldly society, at first believed that ex'
citement, change, was the only panacea need
ed to make her we'll, or rather make her like
herself again; but finding after long trial
that this did not succeed, she began to grow
little anxious, and to watch her with new,
hitherto uufelt solicitude. She began to i'm
agine-or perhaps it was not imagination
that Daisy's cheek was paler, its outline less
round than formerly; her step was certainly
less elastic; her appetite often tagged; there
was deeper trouble here than she had real
lied. She consulted physician-one of the
best in London. Sir John Philips thought
a winter in Italy would be Of inestimable
benefit; also, he would advise a little quiet.
Miss Courtaine did not look robust, and per-
haps the fatigue of travelling had been too
constant for her strength. Back to Italy
they went, and took up their abode in the
Palazzo di--, one Of the most charming
residences on the Arno. Here, with few
select acquaintance for society, they passed
the winter in quiet and seclusion. Sur
rounded by books, works of art, having an
entres into the best circles in Florence,
with carriages placed at their disposal, and
every facility for enjoying the neighboring
country, there seemed to be nothing want
ing that could minister to their qualification.
Daisy was better satisfied here than while
rushing about. Repose suited her. Still, she
was pervaded by an ever-increasing longing,
ceaseless regret. The Past, and the Past
alone, was what she cared for. Perhaps it
would have done her good to open her heart
to her mother-to shed some natural tears
upon her breast. But this sort of confidence
had never existed between them. Mrs. Cour.
taine, though loving her daughter, had al
ways been too much occupied with the world
to enter much into domestic interests and
ioys. Now her feeling began to be different.
The world no longer seemed all important
something was lacking in the elements which
had hitherto constituted its charm. She
grew restless, nervous her anxiety increased.
Daisy was conscious of her solicitude, and
wondered little at it. Was she, then, ill ?
She did not feel so; yet she was. certainly not
strong. There was languor, a depression
about her of which she was aware, and which
she could not shake off: Instead of lessening,
it increased. That winter, delightful as it
was, or ought to have been, seemed to do her
more harm than good. Her thoughts began
to turn yearningly towards home. Hitherto
she had rather Stunned the idea of returning.
Mamma" she asked one day, chow much
longer are we to stay abroad p
"Why do you ask, Daisy ; are you anxious
to 60 home?"