The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1880-08-04

promised gladly. and Dr. Orman went
back to the village with the messenger. No
SOONER was he out of sight than Alfred APP
peared, and we rambled about the garden,
as happy two lovers could be. But the
day was extremely hot and As the after
noon advanced, the heat increased. | pro-
posed then that we should walk up the hill,
where there was generally breeze, and Al
fred was delighted at the larger freedom it
promised US.
But in another hour the sky grew dark
and lurid, and | noticed that Alfred grew
strangely restless. His cheeks flushed, his
eyes had a wild look of terror in them he
trembled and started, and in spite of all my
efforts to soothe him, grew irritable and
gloomy. Yet he had just asked me to mar
~ him, and had promised | would. He
had called me his wife and | had told
him again my suspicious about DR.. Orman,
and vowed to nurse him myself back TO
perfect health. We had talked too, of GO
ing to Europe, and in the eagerness and de-
light of our new plans, had wandered quite
up TO the little pine forest at the top OF the
hill.
Then l noticed AIfred's excited condi-
ton, and saw also that we were going to
have a thunder storm. There was an empty
log-hut not far away and l urged Alfred TO
| try and reach it before the storm broke.
But he became suddenly like child in his
terror, and it was only with the greatest
difficulty | got him within its shelter.
''As peal after peal Of thunder crashed
above us, Alfred seemed to lose all control
of himself, and seriously offended, l left
him nearly sobbing, in a corner and went
and stood by myself in the open door. In
the very height of the storm | saw my faith
er, Dr. Orman, and three of our workmen
| coming through the wood. They evidently
suspected our sheltering place, for they came
directly toward it.
"'Alfred 2 shouted DR. Orman, in the
| tone of an angry master where are you,
sir? Come here instantly
| My pettedness instantly vanished, and
| | said Doctor, you have no right to speak
| To Alfred in that way. He Is going to be
my husband, and | shall not permit it any
more
Miss Wakefield, he answered, this is
| sheer folly. Look there"
Il turned and saw Alfred crouching in a
corner, completely paralyzed with terror
and yet, when DR.. Orman spoke to him, he
rose mechanically, as dog might follow his
masters call.
Il am sorry, Miss Wakefield, to destroy
your fine romance. Mr. Alfred Compton is,
as you perceive, not fit to marry any lady.
In fact, | am his-keeper "
"Oh, Aunt Phoeba Surely he was not
a lunaticv -
so they said, Julia His frantic terror
was the only sign | saw of it; but DIR.
Orman told my father that he was at times |
really dangerous, and that he was annually |
paid large sum to take charge of him, as |
he became uncomfortable in an asylum"
"Did you see him again p
"No | found little note in the rose !
bush, saying that he was not mad; that he
remembered my promise to be his wife, !
and would surely come some day and claim
me- But they left in three days, and Me-
urta laH !
in consequence, twitted me very unkindly
about my fine crazy lover 1t was little
hard on me, for he was the only lover | ever
had. Melissa aud Jane both married and
went west with their husbands | lived on
at Ryelands, a faded little old maid, until
my uncle Joshua sent for me to come to
New York and keep his fine house for him.
You know that he left me all he had when
he died, nearly two years ago, | remem-
bered my own lonely youth, and thought l
would give you a fairer chance dear"
did you ever hear of him again, aunt?
"Of him, never His elder brother died
died many years ago. | suppose Alfred
died many years since he was very frail and
delicate. | thought it was refinement and
beauty then; | knew now it was i'll health"
t'Poor Aunt!"
'Nay, child, | was very happy while my
dream lasted and / never will believe but
that Alfred in his love for me was quite
sane, and perhaps more sincere than many
wiser men,
After this confidence Miss Phoebe seemed
to take a great pleasure in speaking of the
little romance of her youth. Often the old
and young maidens sat in the twilight dis
cussing the probabilities of poor Alfred
Compton's life and death and every discus
sion left them more and more positive that
he had been the victim of some cruel plot. |
The subject never tired Miss Phoebe, and
Julia, in the absence of a lover of her own,
found in it charm quite in keeping with
her own youthful dreams.
One cold night in the middle of January
they had talked over the old subject until ]
both felt it to be exhausted-at least for I
that night. Julia drew aside the heavy
satin curtains and looking out, said, tlt is
showing heavily, aunt tomorrow we can
have sleigh-ride "Why, there sleigh :
at our door, Who can it be? gentle I
man. aunt, and he is coming here"
''Close the curtains, child. 1t is my law
yer, Mr. Howard. He promised to call to>
night" /
"Oh DEAR l was hoping it was some nice a
strange person" /,
Miss Phoebe did not answer; her thoughts {
were far away: IN fact, she had talked
about her old lover until there had sprung ,
up anew In her heart very strong senti- !
mental affection for his memory and when
she arose with sigh from her reflections,
and went into the reception room.
In few minutes Julia heard her voice,
in rapid, excited tones, and ere she could
decide whether to go to her or not, Aunt
Phoebe entered the room, holding by the
hand a gentleman whom she announced as
Mr.. Alfred Compton. Julia was disap-
with enthusiasm. Perhaps Aunt Phoebe !
had quite uncOnsciously magniied the
beauty of the youthful Alfred; certainly
this was not handsome. He was sixty at
least his fair curling locks had vanished, !
and his fine figure was slightly bent. But !
the clear sensitive face remained, and he
was still dressed with sorupulous care.
The two women made much of him. In
half an hour Delmonico had furnished
delicious little banquet, and Alfred drank
his first glass of wine with an old fashioned |
grace Ito his promised wife, Miss Phoebe
best and loveliest of women"
Miss Phoebe laughed, but she dearly liked l
it; and hand in hand che two old lovers
sat, while Alfred told his and little story of
lifelong wrong and suffering, of an intense
ly nervous, self~conscious nature driven to
extremity by cruel usage and many wrongs {
At the mention of DIR. Orman Miss Phoebe
expressed herself little bitterly
"Nay, Phoebe" said Alfred; whatever
be was when my brother put me in his care
he became my true friend. To his skill
and patience owe my restoration to perfect |
health; and to his firm advocacy of my G
right and ability to manage my own estate !
[ owe the position / row hold, and my abil-
ity to come and ask Phoebe to redeem her
never forgotten promise"
Perhaps Julia got little tired of these
old-fashioned lovers, but they never tired t
Of each other Mis- Phoebe was not the !
least abashed by any contrast between her c
IDEAL and her real Alfred, and Alfred was
never weary of assuring her that ne found '
her infinitely more delightful and womanly '
than in the days of their first courtship. q
She can not even call them silly or
foolish" couple, or use any other relieving y
nh rase of that order FIR Miss PhoOabe-or 9