The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1882-04-01
A HIDDEN PEARL.

wrapped in the darkness and silence of
midnight.
Within a narrow chamber at his lodg-
ings Lewis Craven was dying, while
over him sorrowfully bent Aubrey Nor
timer. the friend and companion of many
years of delightful wandering through
the old world.
Mortimer was by ten years the young
er of the two. He was wealthy and ele-
gant-a favorite in society. Fortune
seemed ever to smile on him.
Craven, on the contrary, was poor-a
Litterdtestr with good deal of talent,
but he lacked energy for the hard work
which would have insured him profita-
BILE success.
He was thoroughly educated, agree
able, fascinating gentleman.
When a mere boy he had married; a
year later his girl-wife had breathed her
last, leaving him father and a widow
er at the age of twenty
He never married again.
The child, little girl, was placed in
charge of nurse until she attained q
suitable age to be sent to school. There
were years during which she did not see
her father. Then came letter to the
Young girl which thrilled her with de-
ightful anticipation. She was to join
the father whose face was almost I'M
known to her, but whose charming let
tiers had been the one JOY of her board
ing-school life. She was to leave school,
leave London, and cross the Channel to
the old town where her father was wait
ing to welcome her
This letter preceded q call from Au-
brey Mortimer, who, bong in England,
1. l. I,
The first time that he saw Cecil Cra-
ven he thought her shy little school
girl, with big hazel eyes, q quantity OF
brown hair, and brown complexion to
match.
'.Homely little thing" he thought;
'and frightened half to death, poor
babvr'
And thereupon, following the impulse
of his chivalrous heart, he exercised ev-
erv power which his worldly experience
had given him to make her long ocean
vovagc a pleasant one; and she, in her
gratitude for his kindness and courtesy,
showed herself to be very delightful
and sensible little companion. So that
when Mortimer handed Cecil Craven
over to her father, he had grown to have
sort of brotherly regard for her, while
she had put him upon white pedestal,
and was prepared, after her passionate,
oirlish fashion, to worship him as some
thing little less than godlike.
All of Whitehead Mortimer known it
would have touched and skamed him
good deal.
But he did not know it. No one would
have guessed at the strength andwarmth
and passion of little Cecil s heart.
She kept her secret shut close from
the world She was happy; it was hap
piness to be so constantly with the two
of all others whom she loYed-her faith
or and Mortimer. She kept the rooms
neat and bright wherever they We're;
she sewed on her fathers buttons; she
mended Mortimer's gloves in secret, shy
delight; she got up delicious little lunches
for the two men, and took a hand at
cards with them, or made one of their
jolly fishing or mountain parties.
So year passed until Cecil was nine
teen. then mortal illness overlook
Lewis Craven, and dragged him down
to his death. The merry, careless life
of Boilemianism was ended, and what
would become of Cecil-poor little Cecil,
whose sole relative was the dying father
who had saved not a penny for the girl?
Something like this burst in an agonisedl
moan from Craven's lips as he felt the
icy hand of death close about his heart.
For moment Mortimer thought rap
idly He had cherished strong and
tender friendship for Craven-the friend
ship of man, who, despite his elegant,
care-froe existence, was ready to lay
down that existence fer his friend, if
need be. Cecil was a dear little thing
would make o quiet wife. He had not
n
r. Cecil for her fathers sake.
''She shall be my wife, if she viii have
me-" he said to Craven; Il give you my
word of honor, no harm or sorrow shall
come TO hers
God in heaven bless YOUR sighed
Craven. and as faint, satisfied smile
lit his pallid features, the soul went forth
into eternity.
After the funeral, while Cecil, in her
coarse black garments, was counting
drearily enough thecontents of her mod
est p.rse, Aubrey Mortimer came to
her.
I.er lip quisered at the sight of him
he WAS 81 interviewer with her life, her
joy. her bereavement.
He drew The POOR little purse away
from, the slim brown fingers. and seating
her with gentle authority in the one
easr-clair the room contained, he said:
..Ceeii. child. curlcneiiness FAUST ex-
cit-c az fer apeaalng &c you OF love at
sucI, 4 t:'.se. You need Protector,
ros,r ei...s. It s-ss your fathers wish
thu ym. ss.gs,l 4 .sestsslss Ril VIE.
-.-.ti .yatiis,? she gucrlea, timidiy
s.And isiIse.s
e.1sT. 1.zs'rrtIneI.,' raising Two wistfrl,
tear-tiiied eyes to bis faee, '.do You love
me?''