The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1879-04-01

Mr.. Grey saw what was wanted, and
saying be would be back directly van
isbed for his rubber suit.
The rain drove into their faces and the
wind howled through the dark night like
the minister of Thousand storms-not
for poor f1sherwoman, perhaps, but for
one as good and fair as Edith Willough
by, be should not have hesitated for a
moment. When they came upon the
beach the waves fairly leaped into their
faces. and Edith shivered and clung halt
terrified to her companion in spite ol
herself
81 believe you had better return now
and leave it to me-" he said
mo, we are almost there. l should
never forgive myself if did" she an
swered, catching her breath as she spoke
SIT is only you I am worried about" I"
~ am glad to be able to help you" he
said; and I think be spoke the truth.
Inside the cottage poor Grace, Pooley
lay on her hard bed trying to breathe or
little longer, if so the good God might
send some good friends, before she died
to care for ner orphsn boy.
When The door opened hereyes bright
ened and she raised up little
THE Lord'll bless We for coming.
know he will,' she said as Edith threw
off her wet covering and went towarc
her.
This is only one OF the boarders
who came with me-" she said in reply tt
the woman's questioning look 4 shoult
have come to day had known that yor
we're worse"
She sat down beside the bed and An
son Grey watched her as she spoke il
low, tender voice TO the grateful woman
Among the words which he could dis
tinguish was promise 10 see tc Jamie
and when the old woman who seemed t
be nurse came up to administer some
thing. and in half whisper asked Edit
to pray with them, he began to think b,
was in another world. And it was an
other to him truly. Surely she woult
never do that; but she did; kneelins
upon the bare floor, clasping her whit
hands, she sent up such prayer for hell
and strength as Anson Grey had neve
dreamed Of hearing before.
After that Dight Anson Grey knew
where his heart was, but for his life b.
dared not approach Edith She seemed
an immeasurable distance from such a
he, but he cherished the memory Of he
prayers as the one glimpse into heavel
for which he should thank God all hi
life.
Eiith's mother was gay woman, ant
such she cant her daughter to be,thougl
for her life she could not keep her from
ferreting out and helping an innumerabl
number Of forlorn, poverty stricken peo
| Pile who had no earthly claim upon hel
as they went their fashionable rounds
It was morlifying, even exasperating
tbut she was powerless TO prevent u
They were to be off again, soon, Anso
Grey heard; but be would have misse
seeing her had be not accidentally lne
her as she was hurrying up the beach to
ward their boarding house on the YER
day they left. He could not let her g
without telling her what was in hi
heart
"May ] speak to you momenti" b
said, abruptly stopping her.
"Certainly
As the word left her lips she saw wha
his speaking was going to be.
"Oh, not that, Mr.. GREY"
Somehow be took courage from tn
quick paling OF her lips.
"Yes, that / love you and want 20
for my wife !"
81 am to be married Christmas"
He turned and was leaving her whe
something made her speak.
"Mr. Grey
He faced her again and she saw ho,
white and stern he looked.
"Had ] been free you would not hav
asked in vain.''
For days and weeks afterward Ansol
Grey Rugged the memory Of her look
as she said those blessed words, to hi
heart, caring more for that than the low
and caresses of any other
Christmas came, but death came will
it, aud Edith's lover went his long jour
ney, leaving his affianced bride and he
scheming mother to console themseive
as best they might
In way mysterious to all save Viii
liam Skinner, Edith heard Of Ansol
Grey's illness. and as we have seen wen
to him and had the courage to becom
his wife. ~ g6se sit4
The people Of Burlingame learned t.
love the gentle mistress of the old ston
mansion on the hill, and never suffer
ing one called for help in vain as long q
"my lady," as they called her, was mis-
tress there.