Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1882-09-16

| she asked ION6Iius IN .s;xbt
though she feared the sounds mlghe
reach those below.
wrong, dear" ~. u
Eyes. He is growing to look 50
thin and haggard. Nelson is quite
| concerned about him. | suppose
| YOU. seeing him every day notice the
/ change less than we who only meet
him at intervals?"
"Perhaps that is it, " answered
almost coldly, for it hurt me thaU
anyone should know more OF ms APP
pearance than /.
When they were gone | looked at
Phil, and my heart sank. After
closing the door upon the pair, lshadI
entered the room so silently he dld
not hear me, and now | could Watcn
| him without his knowing. Only a
minute, and then he had caught
half sigh that would have vent.
you there, mother?"
Eyes, dear" / drew my chair to
his side, and took his hand In mine.
"Phil, dear, will you always wear
mask before me?"
He was taken aback. felt his
start, and he turned his head, SEEM
ing to look at me.
"If | do it is to save you PAIN"
"Philip, it breaks my heart !"
Then he told me the truth at last.
He loved Phoebe Carroll.
We sat there in silence, after he
had told me all, | trying to stifle a
feeling of jealousy. 1t had never
seemed possible that he could fall IN
love.
"Have you ever asked her, PHILIP"
"Mother !"
"Wby not?"
"Ask her to devote her life to a
poor helpless wretch like me Il
would die sooner ]"
"Philip, do you think | have ever
felt what | have to do for you a bur
den?"
He raised my hands to his lips.
"Hush, mother That is different.
There, have told you the truth all
my long folly and madness. All |
these months have been struggling
to crush it out-with what SUGGEST"
Mother, we lCiII go away. Help me, |
and | will not, yield again to the |
longing to be near her. Let us go !" |
Darling, do you think she
guesses?"
''She does not. In that at least |
have been strong"
The next day but one | went to |
Phoebe Carroll.
"Ph9be," l began, with futile |
endeavor to control my unsteady |
voice, II am in trouble"
In an instant her arm was round |
me, her soft cheek against mine.
'sCan | help your" She whispered. |
"Tell me what / can do.
1T is about my boy"
''Is he ill?"
sNo-yes. Phoebe, he has learned
to love some one; sand he is blind n
She turned very pale, and her head
sank on my shoulder
Poor fellow / am afraid she does
not care for him. But if she did,
what would his blindness matter?
She would feel it the greatest happi-
ness she could know to wait on him,
to make him forget his loss. Ii she
did, he would be ten times dearer
for his very helplessness."
"F5r a time, perhaps, Phoebe.
"FOr always. | am certain OF 1t.
but you think she does care for |
him?"
II feel sure she does not.
"Ouite sure, Phebe?" And | drew
back and looked searchingly into her
eyes. Her lips quiyered, and a rush
Of color flooded her face and neck.
''Do you not mean Alice Vores?"
"Phebe, | mean you. He loves
you, dear; he is wearing himself out
with fighting against it. He has told
me how it is, and | have come to
you. Can you help me?"
How"
She was trembling, and kept her
face: but | knew the truth.
/ took her straight back with me,
and together we entered the room
where Philip was sitting.
Whom have you there?" he ask
ed, for Phoebe was too much agitated
to speak.
told her"
Mother" he cried out reproach
fully, starting to his feet, and then
covered his face with his hands.
She ran to him and drew his hands
down, to hold them tightly in hers.
"Why did you not tell me, Philip?
l have been waiting so lcng!"
He tried to draw back, but she
would not let him. | crept away.
A week after this Nelson Vores
came again.
'tWhere have you been all this
timer Philip asked him, after the |
first greetings were over. 81 have |
missed you. And what's mp? Your |
voice is not like itself.n
II have been out OF sorts, and it |
seems too bad to you to bring the |
blues here. But thought | would |
come to-day to see ii your patience |
and cheerfulness would shame me
| into q hnttnr etnfn of mind y