The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-09-25
THE HISTORY OF A LIFE.
sY THE AUTHOR OF CAPTAIN GERALD" ''THE
RIGHT OF Way" ETC.
CHAPTER XVII-(CoNTINUED.)

In spite of herself. what made you
think of such thingp
"There is man in our village beats
his wife, and she is always coming crying
to papa to complain"
1t was quite clear that nothing escaped
little Mabel, and many have considered
her dangerous companion on this ac-
count. But not so Euphemia, whose
miserable secrets were far above the
reach of the child's intelligence, even,
and much more of child's eyes.
When Mr.. Roper started for town, Eu-
phemia came to the door to see him off;
but she was holding MabePs hand, and,
though she nodded, and smiled last
good-by, her attention was soon with
drawn from him, and fixed upon the lit
tie girl.
He looked back once. Euphemia was
seated on the steps, and Mabel, standing
over her with busy face, was decking
her dark hair with flowers Mr.. Roper
sighed, in spite of himself.
There were times when Euphemia's
sweetness glamored him; but still he
could not help knowing that he had never
possessed her whole heart-never moved
her to any such love as a passionate,
strong minded woman, such as she un-
doubtedly was might feel
The child that was promised them
would, no doubt, draw them closer to-
gether, but it would never be the same
thing as if she had loved him really and
truly, for his own sake; so that in after
years they might have this bright time to
remember and dwell upon, and keep
their hearts green and young.
Mr.. Roper went away saddened and
anxious. Euphemia, who had almost
forgotten him in an hour after his de-
pacture, was quite taken up with Mabel,
and could think of nothing beside.
81 should like to have you for my
mamma, whether it is naughty to say so
or not" Mabel remarked when they were
sitting in the drawing-room that evening,
otter the grand dinner down stairs.
She was growing drowsy, assuredly,
for it was much later than her usual hour
for retiring; still, Mabel had no intention
of giving in if she could help it. Euphe-
mia caressed her anew for this pretty
speech, and then there was minute S
silence.
The little tongue was usually so active,
that Euphemia glanced down at the
other in surprise, and 10! she was fast
asleep.
Then, of course, it was necessary that
she should go, and Jennie carried her off
to little col, ,Euphemia had placed for
her by her own bed.
Euphemia was left alone then, and a
sudden thought struck her that this
would be all excellent opportunity to 60
and ascertain how Margaret Cell was
getting on. She had dined much earlier
on MabePs account, but the tea equipage
was on the table still.
She rang the bell for the butler to re-
move this, and said to him, carelessly, as
he entered: "Cox, you won't close the
front door. 1t is SO insuferably warm
here, l am going to take stroll in the
k"rden."
every well, ma'am."
Cox, no doubt, thought it very odd
that she should choose such an hour as
this for lonely walk; still, it was no al
fair of his, and he had nothing to = but
obey his mistress orders. After this
Euphemia hurried ON her things, and
started. She took the precaution Of GOV.
ering her face with thick veil, not car
to be recognized by any one whom she
might chance to meet in the lanes; ther
she took her way to Margaret's cottage.
1t was very quiet and lonely. Once g
bat wheeled down, brushing against hel
face, and she uttered faint cry; and 9
white COW, which looked cold and ghostly
in the moonlight, rose suddenly on the
on the other side of the hedge, making
her heart faiter for a second; but finally
she got to her destination without any
real interruption.
She knocked two or three times a
Margaret's door, but receiving no answer
entered. On low palet-bed opposite
lay Margaret, perhaps asleep, for thougF
Euphemia spoke her name, she took ne
notice. A closer glance into her dark
qushed face, showed her to be insensible
w ucIt COulu NILS. NIcll NC! 1IuptlCIlit
fancied her in the next room, keeping
her usual sad watch; and pushing oper
the door, which stood ajar, held the flick
ering candle high above her head, anc
looked cautiously around.
The dead girl no longer lay on the bed
but there was plain deal coffin in th'
middle of the room, which told its owl
tale; and Euphemia withdrew, shudder
ing, closing the door after her.
She came and stood over Margare
again, watching her. The woman
breathing wss thick and heavy, and sh
muttered a few incoherent words iron
time to time.
Euphemia's heart throbbed within her
Here was her enemy-her dire enemy
in her power, helpless, and in such wee
full state besides, that her life could be n
pleasure to her; and not living sou
was near to see the deed, and condemn
her. She had a powder in her pocket
which she always kept there, she hardl
knew why, and yet thereit was; prepared
perhaps, against that day when the bur
den Of life should become too heavy t
bear.
Half of it dropped into the draught Q
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