The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1880-11-13

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foolishly exiled himself iTom.
| And shortly his affairs approached a
crisis from which he was extricated for
the moment by finding a letter contain
ing small sum Of money waiting for
him at the postoffice. There was no
writing Enclosed, nor any mark by
which to identify the sender. Neverthe-
less something told him that it must be
Primrose.
He had fallen very low, he thought,
when he Was forced to receive aid from
| her. But want stared him in the face,
and he accepted the offeringsswith soul
full of bitterness.
Until he had achieved something, he
resolved, he would write no more; he
would hide himself, even from her, in
the deepest mazes of the city. Even a
letter from her dear hand must seem like
CALLING feproach after this.
Not many days later it became ap-
parent to him that ere long but two
alternatives would be left to him; either
to crawl home footsore, dispirited beg
gar, and acknowledge himself con-
quered, or 10 die of absolute starvation
in the streets.
Yet little while he held out, yielding
slowly, stubbornly, to the pressure of
blind necessity.
One night less than a year from his
hopeful parting from Primrose, found
him pacing the streets without roof to
cover. his head. Homeless, penniless,
starving on that bleak winter night, it
seemed to his irenzied mind as if heaven
and man had conspired against him.
There was little enough, pride left in
him now. Want and despair had
robbed him of even that falla cious
Strength. In his dazed thoughts there
seemed no better ambition than to lie
down in some sheltered corner and
yield up his broken spirit.
The bright tiresides shining through
the windows seemed TO mock his
misery. At one window he saw a
young wife anxiously awaiting her hus-
bands return. Something in her figure
reminded him of Primrose. What
would she think if she saw him now,
altered, CHASTITY, freezing?
? esently be fell into a species of
dcJi,iu He thought he was on his
way back to the farm-back to Prim
rose. The frowning rows of houses on
either hand seemed to stretch away into
the smiling, sunlit fields about his
fathers house. Yonder was the tree
where he had often met Primrose when
the days toll was over.
The hard pavement looked like the
winding, dusty road he knew so we'll
ay, and could he not smell the alder
blossoms in the morning ARP
He laughed aloud as be strobe along.
He tried to sing an old air that he
knew, and wept, he thought, for joy.
Poor soul! He did not see how the
chance wayfare1s shrurk back from
him, imagining him dangerou;
maniac.
So he walked on straight toward the
riverside, where the water ran black
and ugly beneath the docks and piers.
For moment its sound seemed to recall
bis scattered senses He paused and
cooked vaguely around him. He saw in
the distancefa woman's figure fastening
To- I'D hf,,, hr1f ho k<,0e/ y,Nfioa Nf -
His fancy went wild again, and he made
toward the river.
"Hark!" he shouted, ''the mill-stream
| shall soon be home!"
In another instant he. had plunged into
the water.
He was conscious of an icy thrill, the
whirling of the lights along the shore,
shrill cry in woman's voice, and a
heavy plunge into the river beside him.
Then, as slender arm was flung around
him and a voice, strangely familiar,
spoke some smothered words of endear-
ment into his dull ear, he became insen-
sible.
A long, dreamy interval seemed to
elapse and he awoke to consciousness in
the broad light of day. The room in
which he lay was his own chamber at
the farm. Was this the reality? Had
all the past been merely hideous dream
He knew that he was very weak, and
that he must have been very near to
death.
While he lay confusedly specializing
uponlhis position, the door opened and
Primrose entered. She looked sadder
and paler than when he had parted with
her year before: but a bright warm
smile broke over her. face as she saw that
he was awake.
"My poor Walterm she said, kneeling
beside him. and covering her face with
her hands.
1t is ell true, them" whispered he.
Yes" she sobbed. "You have beer
very sick. We were both very near to
death Walter"
You know that did not intend tc
| close my weakness and failure with 6
crime" he said. earnestly. 81 thought
Primrose, that was on my way to you
and home, / was mad with hunger