Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1882-05-04

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He had not slept many thoughts
crowded upon him-thoughts of her
whose eyes had lurel him homeward.
The night was calm and warm a dark
blue, star studded sky bent down upon
him. Two miles distant lay the village
in whose suburbs, OH Hnden-crowned
hill, stood Amos Homer's mansion. He
stood moment on the broad doorstep,
then passed down the grassy lane and
out into the highway. Then setting off
at brisk pace, turn i'll the road soon
brought him in view of Amos Homer's
mansion. Every window was ablaze
with light, and as he gained q closer
proximity, he paused and leaned against
the white railing which outsklrted the
grounds.
Placing one hand ON the railing he
lightly leaped it, and stood within the
grounds of the mansion. Nearing one
OF the windows, he looked and what he
saw made his heart almost stand still.
Ariadne, his plghted wife, in wedding
robes.
It Was enough. One glance told him
all His head on his breast and his
thoughts he knew not where, he again
sought his home. The night passed,
though it seemed it would never end.
And there wis no trace on his face of
his struggle when he came down the
next morning.
"Mother." he said, after breakfast,
81 shall have to get away from you
again. You will lot think it lard if I
leave you for Boston tomorrow. l
have some orders that must be execut-
ed before the foreign steamer sails"
"But thought you had come to tarry
here, Paul. And then you are sick, [
know you are and you Will wear your
self out with work"
80, never you fear, mother; am
not Ill. look pale always, now. If I
have leisure, I will run up among these
New Hampshire hills again in a fort
night or so but if I am very busy I
sh6n write for you to bring Mary to
Boston to Join me. o, yes, mother,
I'll have time yet for rest and recreat on
before 60 over seas again.
again And must you cross the
Atlantic once more? o, my son, we do
not want riches or comforts, if we are to
be divided from you. Do not go from
home again. Stay with us, Paul, )"
urged Mrs. billiard.
"Nay, mother" said Paul, gently,
but firmly, "you would not have me re-
main here an idler, drone. I must
return to Italy"
An Italian sun was setting behind a
low range OF hills that skirted n broad
Roman Campagna, as two travellers,
one an invalid, alighted from a dill
gence at an humble hostelrie, whose
brown vine-covercd walls slept under
the protecting shelter of a grove Of
drawf cedars.
The invalid was an old man, the
other beautiful, sad faced woman.
And that wasted, wan sufferer, and that
beautiful, but pale woman, were John
and Ariadne Etheridge.
In all respects she had been to him q
faithful wife. And so she had accom-
panied him across the seas to Italy, day
by day attending him unweariedly with
gentle fingers and tender care. But
John Etheridge was doomed man all
that long summer day had his strength
waxed fainter and when they lifted
him carefully from the cushions and
bore him within the mountain inn, even
then the death angel entered beside
him.
| There was one other traveller who
came slowly down the hillside path and
sought the hostel's shelter that night
dark, pale man, with sketch-book in
hand, and enveloped in the folds of an
ample Roman cloak. And while the
shadows gathered deeper and the rain
battered on the low roof, the stranger
threw himself on the rude wooden
bench beside the window, and with face
buried in his hands seemed lost in
thought or slumber.
The evening wore later; the hotel
keeper and his wife had sought their
slumbers the stranger still lay wrapp-
| ed in his cloak-folds and almost lost in
the dark shadows; but in an humble
inner room Ariadne Etheridge and her
faithful man-servant watched the flick
ering lamp of life. For an hour he
dozed heavily, then the waning flame
flashed up with fitfuI radiance; he
started from his pillow and said gasp
ingly "Wifel Ariadne u
She came closer and moistened his
lips with wine.
"Wife, I have something to say to
you before-before-" but his voice
faltered. am going-I know it," he
gasped feebly, "and I must talk with
you Ariadne. I have been very wicked.
You remember Paul billiard ?"
The head upon his breast dropped
heavier her beautiful hand clutched
his copvulsively for an instant, then
she lay very still again. And the man