The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1881-06-09

who loved him only for his fathers
wealth, and who (when the securities
failed in which old Mr.. Darrell had in
vested the whole of his money, and he
was ruined man, his sons prospects
also) left him-his six months bride
leaving behind her cody worded-note,
intimating that she could share poverty
with no one, and that he need not seek
her, as she never intended to return.
And he never had sought her; but the
love he had borne her was as warm in
his heart now as it had been on the day
they were married. And as he sat at
his easel there, in the field where little
Lillian had left him, he wept for the
memory of her who, in those days, had
not been worthy one throb of his noble
heart. !4s
Several days elapsed before he saw the
little girl again, but during that time |
she was hardly once absent from his |
thoughts He had lived such a lonely |
life since his father died Cbroken down /
by the trouble that had come upon him |
in the loss of his wealth. and, with |
nothing to care for in the world but the |
art he was welded to, the child had
come across his path like ray of SUM-
shine in the darkness. But one day, as
he was returning home, she came dane
ing toward him, and seizing his hand as
il their acquaintance had been of years
instead of days, she Immediately began
an animated conversation, such as only
| children can begin on the spur of mo-
| ment
Ernest was certainly amused, if not
interested; but as their way along led
them past the brook where they had
met before, Lilly frokeiaway from him
and ran eagerly toward it. She looked
back once or twice to laugh at Ernest,
and in doing so tripped over stone
hidden in the grass and fell forward into
the water.
A cry burst from her lips, but imme-
diately Ernest came to the rescue, and
ere she became totally submerged, had
succeeded in drawing her out upon the
bank.
Wet clothes and severe fright was
all the harm the child had sustained;
and as Ernest proceeded to wrap round
her thick plaid shawl, which he gen.
orally carried with him to protect his
feet from damp grass, she began to
laugh at her little adventure.
'I have gathered my water lily now,"
said the young artist, smiling; "and /
would not exchange it for all the others
in creation
He took her, entirely enveloped in the
warm shawl, up in his strong arms and
continued his walk, now in the direction
of Lilian's home
81 am so sofry-mamma will be out, )"
she said, lifting her beautiful eyes to his
. face. 'sShe would so liked to have
thanked you herself. But do you know
. which way to go?"
81 want you to direct me, Lilly" he
said.
The distance was short, as he sup
posed; and as they reached the gate OF
: a pretty villa residence, which had often
attracted Ernest's attention before by its
quaint picturesqueness Lillian informed
him that this was ''her home"
ST thank you so very much, said the
child, as she stood once more upon the
ground and rang the bell. "I wish
3 mamma could thank you herself-I don't
know how to"
I "You need not thank me at all, dear
child" Ernest Darrell assured her, with
the old shade of sorrow darkening his
face. '1 only hope the consequences
! of what has happened may not be
serious" He remained with her until a
8 middle-aged woman, whom Lillian called
: 'tnurse," came forward to claim her
young charge; and then, after giving a
brief explanation of the whole affair,
|, he bade Lily goodbye and walked on.
y About week subsequent to this event
J Ernest Darrell happened to be passing
. the house where little Lillian dwelt, when
u he heard her voice calling after him
. down the sunny road:
y ''Come back-Oh, please come backI
she was saying, in breathless eagerness
u mamma does want to see You SO much
! and thank you for saving me when fel
in the brook" f.
10 And Ernest felt his hand grasped il
the childs, and almost before he wal
Il aware of it, she had led him through the
l. gates and up the steps to the portico
g Then across the wide hall she dragged
p him, laughing and chatting gaily thu
l while, into luxuriously furnished room
y where her mother sat.
y A beautiful woman, with dark hau
10 and Oriental eyes, rose from an ottoman
: at their entrance and came toward them
l At least. she came half way, and thel
d tottered back, with deathly pallo
;. overspreading her countenance; while
&. -Ernest-dropped Lilian's hand ant
stood gazing at that agonized face.
Is ''Marian-my wifel"
ernest! Oh, is it possible that W
II meet at last?"
o1 There was dreadful silence, during
ID which, at sign from her mother, Lilial
fed, and those two were alone-afte
y seven long years.
10 The stern, grave face of Ernest Oar
n rel was sterner and graver still-evel
u i Lillian might have shrunk from it thel
and Marian, the woman who ha
70 blighted his life, fell at his feet.
10 "Oh! Earnest, my husband - m.
IS much-wronged husband-forgive mel
n she cried. 'I have suffered deeply
th ever since that day left you"
Suffered" repeated Ernest, in colo
a. rigid tones. "Eave you ever though
OF of what have suffered?"
ed eyes, yes; ten thousand times" re
," piled Lilian's mother, in voice well
he nigh choked with emotion. "But min
has been the undying worm of an accus
og ing conscience. Oh, Ernest, I hav
3 I been Justly punished for my wickednes'
ut I never knew how dearly I loved 20
ma until I had lost you-until had sacr
le, feed that which would have given tt
best years of my life to bring back. R
rly member what I had always been
spoiled, petted child, with never wis
he ungratifed, and it seemed SO hard to fat
nd | poverty-even with you. L was vel
hit young-only seventeen, remember, E
led nest-and all through the dim vista
len years that lay before me I saw nothir
but want, penury and deprivation.
The fed in a moment of madness, delirium-
anything you like to call it-leaving b
tile hind me that cold note, in whio
I bade you never seek me.
, - did not go home, for my paren
60 would have Immediately have col
tor municated with you. 1 went to
w.. uncle, who loved me only too well-si
full wretch that was-and told him
and lie, that you had deceived me, and th
an 1 married a beggar whom believed
las have been rich. He was bachelC
oss | and lived n secluded life aWay from