The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-02-19

The funeral rites were over The
/ 0a0ra Nan&'s AsReet fktse. zsFsAss slstI'
with flowers, was hidden from sight
beneath a coffin lid, and laid in the
gloomy old family vault of the
Kent's.
Plying faces and fearful eyes had
bent above the shlouded form, and
sympathetic whispers had said score
of times that it seemed cruel for one
so young and fair to lay down earth's
choicest treasures at the very outset
of life.
Up and down, beneath the tall
larches that shaded his now desOlate
home, Harvey Kent paced restlessly
his very heart wrung with anguish
of his bereavement.
81 would gaze upon your face till
the last moment" These, almost
the last words of Dora, seemed to
ring in his ears.
The June evening, tremulous with
the throbbing life of the golden stars,
and fragrant with the breath of roses,
had no charm for him.
Far in the distance the lofty spire
OF the old church pierced the sky,
the church where they had that day
laid his darling, with white hands
folded over pulseless heart.
Oh, what a desolate place would
earth be without her! Il beg your
pardon, sir" said the old house
keeper; "but the air is damp tonight,
and tea is ready in the library. l
thought you might prefer it served
there"
"Thank you, Mrs. Milwood, but I
do not wish any"
"Oh, sir, grieving never yet did
any coed in this serld sither tosthe
living or the dead, and we must sub
init to the will of God"
"They talk of submission, he said
bitterly; "what can they know of
such sorrow AS mine?"
But to escape further important
ties and hackneyed phrases meant
for consolation, he entered the house,
and, proceeding to the library, par
took slightly of the relreahment pre-
pared for him.
Sitting by the window afterward,
a C,ll inf a L.
did not waken till reused by the clock
striking two.
He awoise with perfectly distinct
recollection of every thought and
feeling experienced during the time
he had slept.
He seemed to stand where the faint
light of the summer stars came
through a small. arched window.
! On each side of him were rows of
cofiins, bearing the name and age of
the mouldering forms, some of which
had been dust for full fifty years.
Before one of these he stood, and
even in the dim light, which scarcely
revealed the outlines of different OBJ
jects, the letters of the plate seemed
perfectly distinct:
THEODoRA,
Well Beloved Wife of
HARVEY KENT.
Aged 70
Upon these words his eyes were
riveted. As he gazed, the coffin lid
turned backward on its hinges, and
the face of Dora appeared, no longer
pale and marbIe.like in death, but
arch and smiling, with radiant
smile wreathing the sweet lips.
And as he stood, overcome with
wonder at seeing her in such place,
she reached out her hands, saying :
"Come, Harvey"
With the words yet ringing in his
ears, he suddenly awoke. And as
he sat upright in the easy chair, in
which he had been reclining, and
looking out into the starlight night
he heard the words again, further of
this time, but clear and distinct
"Come, Harvey"
A sudden impulse. which he could
neither explain nor resist, seemed to
urge him out into the garden, in the
direction from which the voice had
seemed to proceed.
A moment later, and he found
himself walking hurriedly along in
the direction of the church, half in
clined to resist the impulse which
urged him onward, and yet walking
onward at a rapid pace, which he
never slackened till he paused mo.
ment in front of the little church,