The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1881-01-06


two eldest brothers to college. He re-
manned at the inn the entire winter, lest
he might, by some unfortunate accident,
lose his treasure. Mabel was submissive
Her brilliant marriage engagement was
the envy of the entire neighborhood
And when the farmers daughters saw
her driving out with Mr.. Claire in mag
nfcent style, they sighed with envy,
little dreaming how often her smile had
an aching heart.
The following spring, when all nature
was light and smiling. when the apple
trees were again in bloom, Mable was
sitting alone by one of the 'front-room"
windows In few days she was to be
married. She sat listlessly looking over
the wide-spreading landscape, thinking
of her ruined happiness.
Suddenly she was startled, for Philip
Adair stood out upon the porch before
her. His looks were strangely altered
so pale and stern. Mabel, i'm an agony
of despair, looked up, and for a moment
they gszed fixedly into each others pale
faces.
At last Mabel exclaimed:
''Philip, why are you come? You
know have given you up"
"Mabel, 1 have come to hear from
your own lips that which none could
force me to believe. Mine until death,
Philip" said he, bitterly. 81 thank
my God that am rid of one SO un-
worthy When I left you, Mabel, I
went away with no thought but of you
and your happiness. Whilst was labor
ing for this, you were plotting to wound
me in the cruelest way; you little know,
Mabel Vaughn, the mischief you have
donel Farewell, and may a Just God
deal with you as you have dealt with
mel"
He turned quickly, leaped from the
porch, fastened through the front yard,
mounted his horse, and was soon gallop-
ing along the highway.
Mabel was bewildered at first. Arous-
ing herself, she followed as far as the
wicket gate in time to see him disappear
ing in the dim distance. She held out
her arms toward him, exclaiming,
"Philip!" with a bittercr of pain. Then
she returned, and, seating herself upon
the steps of the porch, buried her face
in her hands, whilst her whole frame
shook with her agitated feelings. Thus
they parted, they who had vowed to go
through life together.
Mabel's joyless wedding was over.
She left with Mr. Clair to preside over
his elegant establishment in the city of
P. He was cold, selfish man of
the world. There was no congeniality
between them, and Mabel, though SUBJ
missive, found her life blank. As time
rolled ON the gulf widened and widened
between them, he regarding her with
jealous suspicion, knowing she had mar
ried him without love, and considering
himself injured in marrying one in her
position and not having it appreciated.
He was liberal toward her family, and
Mabel felt kindly toward him when she
saw them prosperous and happy.
Philip Adair, never rightly understand
ing the matter, accused her of duplicity
and a love of display. Twice in after
years he saw her. Once she passed him
in her elegant carriage; their eyes met;
neither spoke, both considering them
selves injured. Philip was surprised to
see the dark eclipse that had dimmed the
radiant beauty; never, he thought, had
he seen a human being SO pale. ''She
has reaped what she has sown," said he,
pity. The lips may utter severe re-
proaches whilst the poor, tortured heart
is all love the while. Pride conceals
anguish, and Philip, in spite of his bit
ter words, would have died to save her il
he could.
When he again saw her she was still
paler. She lay in her coffin, and was
beautiful even there. When she felt her
end approaching she beckoned to her
mother, saying:
It may be foolish request, mamma
dear, but bear with me, for mine is tired
and wounded spirit. When I am nc
more, it will be g. pleasure for you to
know you have consented to my dying
request. Please have me buried in the
old orchard, under my favorite tree"
So when the apple trees we're again in
bloom they buried her there. 1t was 9
bright sunny day. The birds sang
sweetly by the winding river, which
| shone like band of silver unrolled, the
bees hnmmed from flower to flower, the
| only inanimate thing was the sleeper
beneath the coffin lid.
Philip Adair prospered wonderously
and gratifed the ambition of his parents
and friends. He became distinguished
man in the world, made brilliant mar
riage, and was considered by his less
fortunate friends lucky fellow. But
though favored by many blessings, there
was always solitary place in his hear
"a void which the world could not sat
isfy or FILL In society he was gay and
cheerful, kind and generous, and the
grief that was buried deep within his
heart was known only to his Maker.