Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1881-02-16

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her arms about my neck as l stopped to kiss
her, "you are too good to me, but never
meant to wrong you, never thought,
never guessed that was learning to love
him save as brother, till IL was shown me
in that awful moment when felt myself
going down, down. and she shuddered al
the remembrance.
"Say nothing about it, my darling, only
be happy said calmly
"Then you do not mind so very, very
much ? thought you loved him, oh SC
much, but it seems was mistaken, for
know never could give him up to another
now he has told me that he loves me-" said
Mabel, astonished at my calmness.
How her words stabbed me to the heart
But how could expect her to understand
the meaning Of self-sacrifce
ono, my dear, | do not think you could
but | am older and stronger than you, and
trust | shall be able to bear all that God
puts upon me-" answered.
at makes me so happy to know that he
loves me-" she prattled on unconsciously,
"only am so silly and childish that 1
wonder how he can--he who is 80 wise and
scholarly"
II was no wonder to me, as ! looked upon
her, that Albert was intoxicated with her
loneliness and beauty; but would it always
sway his heart as now, questioned
He was to return home now at once, and
in one year was 10 claim his bride; would
hear nothing to an earlier marriage, for
Mabel was so young. felt that this blast
ing OF her hopes would prove sad blow to
Aunt Beatrice, and how Albert explained
the matter to her / never knew, but she
wrote me tender letter, asking me to come
TO her when Mabel was married, for she and
Albert had agreed that he had better set up
a separate establishment when he married.
promised to go, and felt that life would be
less hard with her than elsewhere, but she
was called to a happier home in a few weeks
afterward, leaving me little more desolate
than before.
In six months voluntarily recalled AL
bert, for Mabel dropped like broken flower.
She was always delicate, having inherited
from her mother, along with her remarkable
beauty, tendency to consumption. They
were married quietly at home, and immedi-
ately started on a trip to the mountains for
the warm months, and then AZ the autumn
came on they were TO travel to the SOUTH
that the balmy air of that sunny land might
bring healing to the frail one whom we
loved.
Mabel wrote me long letter from the
fashionable resorts where she seemed to en-
joy herself remarkably, and recuperated so
much that her physician decided that the
southern trip might be postponed until more
unfavorable symptoms showed themselves.
And SO they settled down in their own home
for the winter.
Were they happy Mabel was, I was sure,
but how was it with Albert2 l had seen too
much Of the depth of his spiritual and in
tellectual nature, to believe that the mate
rial beauty that had so enthralled his senses
could long satisfy the nobler part of his ma
ture and | knew, too, that Mabel, lovely
and loving, beautiful aud bewitching as she
was, had no depths of mind or soul that
could answer his need. But he had chosen
or allowed his sensuous nature to choose as
many another man and woman has done be-
fore and since, and must abide by that
choice, though the spiritual nature starve on
the husks with which he vainly attempts to
satisfy his longing. Yet knowing this, |
felt that / should hate him if he were ever
otherwise than gentle and patient with the
childish volatile Mabel who loved him so
devotedly.
Months passed away, and [ still lived on
alone in our little home with Hetty. Though
often urged to visit my sister, could not
quite bring myself to accept the invitation.
81 was welded to my books, and she was
better without me-" was what / told Mabel
when she urged me to go. / was not alto
gether unhappy; sad and lonely often was,
but not miserable; spiritual exaltation that
oil m ra iaa ma hpua rtbly nd
vexations, made life endurable, even pleasant
at times. But at last there came a sum-
mons from Mabel that could not deny.
al want you, Mary, my sister, MOTHER
more than have wanted you in all my life |;
will you not come to me ?" so her letter ram
shut up the cottage, took IIetty with me,
and went to her. When | saw how she
chung to me, reproached myself for my
weakness in feeling that | could not visit
what had been the home of my beloved Aunt
Beatrice, where every nook of the old garden
was sacred to memories that it were wrong
to remember now. Albert seemed kind
and indulgent husband, very thoughtful for
her wants, but it struck me that Mabel felt
more constrained in her intercourse with
him than she used TO do, and | did not like
it, but | tried to believe that it was because
she was in delicate health and low spirited.
Two weeks later as she lay like snow
wreath, whittier than her pillow, placed her
twin babes beside her, and she looked up
with proud and happy smile, too weak to
speak above whisper, yet we were very
hopeful of her. The fountain of mother
love opened in her heart seemed like a foun-
tain of strength, and she recuperated rapidly
for short time, then, just as we were con-
graduating ourselves on her perfect recovery
to health, she began to droop 1t was "noth-
ing but the heat" she said " she should
grow stronger when cool weather came"
But she did not but steadily though slowly
declined in strength, and when | saw the
blue veins in her transparent brow aud thin,
white hands and heard her cough, at first
slight, but always increasing, knew that
her mothers fate was to be hers. 1t was of
no use to think of the sunny south now, for
it was too late to benefit her-and no doubt
it had been alDays too late, though our fears
for her had been lulled by her seemingly re-
stored health. She never left her room now,
since cool weather had come, and | was al
ways with her through the days, when AL.
bert was away on business.
She had herself begun TO realize that her
days were numbered, and seemed to cling
the more closely to her earthly treasures
that she must so soon leave. The babes
were given over mostly to Hetty's care, for
she was too weak too have them with her
much now, but over and over she made me
promise to take them home into my own
heart and bring them up as had her.
"But Albert may not like to have it so"
| objected at first
"He has promised me that it shall be So,
if you will have them," she answered. He
never denies me anything; he is the kindest
and best of husbands, but o, Mary, some
times think it is almost better as 1t is, that
| must leave him, you know, for fear that
| do not make him quite happy, nor ever
could. He reads TO me sometimes out of
those books that interest him so much, and
though try to understand it, it is all Greek
to me, and get so tired listening, and then
| when he tries TO talk about it, II is worse
still, for do not know in the least what to
| say, and know do seem so stupid to him,
| till finally he gives up in despair, and says,
Never mind, dear, we will talk of some
thing else and that quite shuts me up sc
that | cannot talk of anything Though he
says never mind, dear know that he doe
mind very much, and l do 80 wish l haG
studied and tried to learn something when
you tried so hard TO have me, but | never
could have been clever like you and Albert, il
had tried ever so hard. And 80 sometime,
| think it is better as it is, that should &C
and leave him before he gets too tired Of my
stupidity and childishness."
l could understand that she might b.