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

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or existence. He swan a few rods with his
burden, then seemed to remember me, and
turning about he saw me clinging to the
boat
"Cling to the boat, Mary" he cried, 81
will come back for you," and went on.
had seen the look of entreaty and I'M
mistakable love on my sisters white face as
she cried, 40, Albert save me p and had
heard his tender My darling" in the same
tone that had thrilled my own heart so often,
and the revelation came TO me like flash OF
lightning, that blinded and almost stunned
me. "Let me die why should live longerF'
[ asked myself and loosened my hold on the
boat. was about to sink when Alberts
clear, commanding voice rang over the
water, " Cling to the boat, Mary, will com
back for you" Involuntarily at the sound
of his voice grasped the boat though with
no intention of saving myself, for felt tn at
death could not come too soon. And then
my troublesome, exacting conscience whis-
pered God gave you your life, what right
have you TO take it2"
40 why cannot die and let those whom
l love be happy" l groaned in agony Of
spirit.
But was not left long in this state OF
suspense, for man who was out fishing with
a boat saw the accident from distance
and rowed to the scene of disaster as fast as
possible 1t was but the work of moment
to help me into the boat, and then he fol-
lowed after Albert, who, burdened as he was,
made slow progress, indeed 1t hardly seemed
likely that he could have reached the shore
unaided, for Mabel was dead weight on his
arms her hat had fallen off and her drip
ping curls lay over his arm and shoulder,
and her white face looked so like her dead
mothers that l shuddered. Our united eff
forts drew them into the boat, and still my
sister showed no signs of life.
"She is dead' cried frantically, chatting
her cold hands, unmindful that was drip
ping and shivering.
"No, not dead,' said Albert, whose cheek
was almost as white as hers, " she is not
dead, for there is a faint pulsation of the
heart"
There was little that we could do until we
reached home with her, and ! was in an
agony of fear lest we should be too late.
Even in that hour of supreme agony, when
the bolt fell that destroyed my blind trust
and faith in all that made my life worth liv-
ing, felt no resentment in my heart against
my sister | only desired her to live and be
happy. As soon as we reached home, the
man who rescued us ran for the village doc
tor, who was soon with us, and under our
united efforts she at last opened her blue
eyes and smiled family as she saw Albert
bending over her. And then, for the first
time in my life, l tainted
When l came to myself l was in my own
room, in my own bed, the doctor, Hetty and
one of the neighbors bending over me.
"What does it mean What has happened?"
| asked family, for l was dazed for the mo-
ment, but it came back to me, and | said to
Hetty, who began to explain, Z" remember
it all now" How wished that had never
been resuscitated from that semblance of
death
When l was able to sit up in an easy
chair, which was not allowed until next day,
| sent for Albert He looked shocked at my
haggard appearance, and think he but half
comprehended by intent, though he was
somewhat embarrassed.
al have sent for you," l said presently,
" to release you from our engagement" He
started and would have spoken, but | went
on, heard my sisters cry of love and en-
treaty. l heard your answer; was not that
enough Think you would for one mo
ment hold you in unwilling bondage ?"
"Believe me, Mary, when | declare upon
my honor that no word of love has ever
passed between your sister and myself be-
fore. God knows the truth, that | have
loved you as never loved any other woman,
nay | love you still with all that is nobest
and best in my nature; there are depths in
my heart that no other being ever stirred.
You know how we have been thrown to-
gether, as it were, not indeed by any wish
of mine, but your sisters bewildering beauty
appealed to my love of the beautiful, and l
looked upon her as the beloved sister Of my
affianced wife, but dreamed of nothing more
until that hour when her appealing cry
reached my ear and my heart. o Mary
can you not forgive and forget that for
brief moment l was oblivious of your
danger ?" he cried, impetuously.
81 forgive you freely, but shall never for
get the tenderness, the love, that trembled in
your answering, my darling What is said
cannot be unsaid,' answered.
He sighed, but made no response, and 1
went on "There is more than your happi-
ness and mine involved, for you have won
the love of this tender-hearted creature,
whom have looked upon as child-unin-
tentionally, am willing to believe, but the
result is the same. She lives only in her af-
fections, and would die without love, as a
flower without sun. Make her happy and l
can forgive you all wrong to me-"
| 90 the blind fool that / have been," he
groaned, "not to see that your happiness
and my honor was at stake but was blind,
blind 4"
"You were blinded, dazzled by the vision
of beauty, but do not blame yourself too
much. 1 hold myself not altogether guilt
less in the matter, for /, too, was blind and
saw nothing till too late--too late for me but
not for you to be happy. Go, seek my sister,
and make her happy by your avowed love"
| said. "Tell her have discarded you
tell her anything, only make and keep her
happy"
He took my hand in his, pressed it to his
lips and left tear upon it. al go at your
command" he said, :" but am humbled in
the dust at the thought OF my baseness, and
, your magnanimity, even though the wrong
was unintentional on your part"
He was gone, and the unnatural strength
that had upheld me and the forced calm
that had called to my aid deserted me.
threw myself on the bed and for tim,
gave way to the grief and despair that over
whelmed me. Not in one brief hour was t.
/ be rooted out the love that had taken holt
on the yery fountains of my life, but that /