The Osceola times., 1880-05-01

ened, the caVornOus bOrrOWs on nls prOW
seemed to have strengthened into JOY
Gus benignity; the very angles Of his ma
ture, sharpened by the lonliness Of his
life, took comfortable rounden shapes to
themselves, and be greeted the pale,
pretty woman in the straight back chair
with peculiar and charming tenderness
of tone and manner, born of this new
experience, that would have frightened
and astonished himself had he been
locker on.
But Mrs. Delplaine was neither fright
ened nor astonished. She was still 80
weak that Hagar's harsh and ABRUPT re
plies had brought foolish tears to Lcr
eyes which stlll hung up IN her lashes as
she smiled upon Mr.. Hume. She gave
herself up to the sweet relief and CON-
fort Of his presence. She began TO be-
lieve that destiny had determined this
remarkable event in her life, and felt All
irresistible desire to further the designs
of tate. She had never in Ler life seen
any one so noble and majestic. yet 30
gentle and SO tender, as this preacher.
Il am glad you have come" she said,
Il have something to say to you" A
strange, wistful. discomforted look In his
face disquieted her, and she added
gently, You will not despise little ad-
vice and remonstrance of miner"
81 could despise nothing with which
you are associated" he said.
Then listen 10 me-" she continued;
"sit here by my side and listen to me.
am getting quite strong and well. You
have saved Ry life-you and your good
Hagar, and the worst OF it is that now
must GO away"
Here she paused and enjoyed the sud-
/ den winciBg in his free and resolved
more and more to spare him the pang Of
parting.
II am going to coax you away from
here" she said. "Indeed, Mr.. Hume
may call you Paul?"
Yes" he replied, but began TO tnrn
pale.
Indeed, you are quite thrown away
in this place. Ii would be so sweet to
me to see you admired and deitied and
bowed down to, as the world out yonder
does to men like you. They love silver
tongue, do the people. viii you let me
manage it for you? | promise you, il you
will, our parting shall be brief. | have
considerable influence, which | will
WELD in your behalf You have but to
known to be appreciated. See the good
you might do, Paul" she added coaxing-
ly.
Her face took fire as she uttered his
name, but that Of the preacher grew
paler and paler.
II am grateful to you," he replied,
more grateful than l can say; but /
must remain here. Believe me, it is
better that should.
Mrs. Delplaine had somewhat foreseen
this reftIsel. la her exalted estimate Of
his character she could scarcely hope
that her hero would step aside from the
path he bad marked out for himself to
cater to the preference OF woman.
She yielded at once.
because you are stubborn and proud" "
she said; because you can not bend TO
any weak frivolity; and if you will not
yield to my wishes, there is nothing left
| TO me but To submit myself to yours.
Well, then, | will also remain here. 1t
matte rs but little where live, and this
is winsome country in its way. think
We shall soon have a promise of spring.
| On that big, stern rock outside the win
dow | saw the poor moss growing just a
little green. l can get some old house,
and old houses can be refurnished. Cold,
gray homespun can give place to Persian
woods, and odorous fires can still glow in
the old chimney places. Since 1t is your
will, sir, to remain in this place, you will
not object if make this wilderness to
bloss I'm as the rose?
Mrs. Delplaine," he said crunching
the slim white hand that rested on the
arm of the chair close in the quivering
muscles of his own.
"My name is Laura, sir" she inter-
rupted, softly. 49,.
"Yes, Laura he repeated, "you will
not remain here, neither will go. You
will take with you the only true happi-
ness have ever known. The memory
of it will perhaps serve to make the rest
of my life endurable. And now let me
tell you, lovliest and most generous Of
women, why cannot 60 and you cannot
stay. When | was but lad of twenty
and still pursuing my studies, l fell in
love with young woman who lived in
the neighborhood of the college. soon
learned that her passion was feigned
from the first, and that she only married
me from motives of convenience. But
mine, founded upon a delusion of the
brain, led me into a FOOLS paradise; and
even when the bitterness Of her mistake
and my own began TO eat into our lives,
it sickens me TO remember how | strove
against it-how meanly and servilely /
shut my eyes and groped blind-tolded
for the old mockery. But it had long
been ghost, and the time came
even the memory of it was curse. Then
the cross was perhaps heavier for her TO
bear than for me. Tied to man whose
pursuits, thoughts, ambitions, affections
| she could neither understand nor ap-
prehend, condemned to the propriety
and soberness allotted to the life of u
preachers wife and even denied the
comfort OF wearing gay trinkets and ap-
parel, often she told me she envied the
freedom of an Indian squaw, and how
glad she'd be to know nothing but Choc-
taw to get rid of the eternal preaching"
Pour soul.' said Mrs. Delplaine, with
an involuntary shudder at the life the
parson portrayed. Then she added, with
infinite tenderness: "Ahl but she did not
love voui'
"No," said Mr.. Hume, "and, God for
| give me, there were times when / was
tempted TO put an end to my life, it bred
such misery for us both. AT last mer-
ciful Providence can only think it
such-enfeebled her health and took the
corpOreal sting from her slavery. The
powerful vitality which lent dangerous
strength TO her discomfort was broken,
and she became content to be amused
and taken care of in way that was pos
sible tome. Anold nurse connected with
the family was induced to take entire
charge of her. The Incidence of South
ern climate suited her desires and