The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1882-06-28


home. And she shan't 90 no how.
Laura was then II, and though / wa
so much younger it never made an,
difference until that summer Charli
Kingston came, a college student study
ing entomology, or, as Mrs. Marvin
said, "bugologist He was in pur
suit of specimens, and a fine one b,
found when he stumbled over some
lrocks We had carelessly thrown down il
the tall grass by the brook. / shall
never forget the look he gave Laura a
| he lifted his hat with q stammering
apology. How lovely she was, the color
sweeping over her face for moment as
| she answered him. l was loud in my
opinion of his impertinence, but Laura
said little and was more quiet than evel
on our way home.
After that we were often joined by
him, and I came to feel as never before
with Laura that she was happier with.
out me. How beautiful she was that
summer! Not so much in form and
feature, but the light of love. The
realization of so much that she had but
dreamed of seemed to radiate till she
was a part of Gods own sunshine. For
give me, dear, if l felt jealous pang
that you could be happy without me.
l need not have grudged you all the
happiness your life would ever know.
can but pray it partly compensated
for all that was to come.
went away in August what fol-
lowed l knew mostly from my mother.
It was October when Mrs. Marvin first
knew of it. There was no scene. She
was hard woman, accustomed to obe-
dienee. WANT a goin' to have no
such chaps a foolin' around. When
Laura was old enough there was Elihu
Andrews, her own second cousin, all
ready to marry her'n come right home
to work on the farm. Elihu hadn't got
much, but was a good, stiddy, hard
workin' feller, 'thout no notions, n it
was intended they should get married n
settle down to home.
1t never occurred to Laura to disobey
her mother until she met her lover
and he begged her to fly with him.
She was his own, his promised wife
nothing could separate them. She loved
him so well she might have been per-
suaded, but her mother mounted guard
like the veritable old ogre | used to
imagine her. And at length Kingston
went away discouraged.
Laura was forced all these long win
ter evenings to see Elihu, hear him dis
cuss the stock with her father and drear-
lily wonder if all her life was to be like
this. When l came home | was
shocked at the change; she did not seem
the same girl with that grieved look
about the mouth | used to call "mY
cupid's bow" She was not an independ-
ent woman's rights person; did not
even think she had any rights would
never have been the popular woman Of
the day. But had she been allowed to
blossom in her own sweet way, she
would have been what our dearest,
truest women are-a household angel. |
Would most of US ask for dearer
tributes to our memories than in our
inmost hearts we pay these gentle, |
womanly women, who have lived and
done so much in our homes?
Perhaps Elihu Andrews loved her
after his fashion. He thought she was
rather "high-flutin' know but
one spell she kinder hankered after that
city chap, but the old woman fixed that
all right. Trust her for that!" He
went there to live after a while. He
and Laura were to be married when
''she got used to it little" But one
day Mrs. Marvin awoke to find Laura
gone. Where could she be she sell
dom went out now.
Out under the old chestnut, with wide
staring eyes fixed on her mother as she
came up. AS they took her in she said
II did love you, Charlie--[ did, / did.
What made you go away? No one else
loves me-I did, did"
For days those were the only words
spoken above whisper in her room.
Il did love you Charlie, | did," What
must that mother have felt to hear those
words so oft repeated: "No one else
loved me, Charlie-I did did," What
ever she felt she made no sign, even on
that dreadful day when the doctor came
1ut and to the invariable question an
Jwered, "Hopelessly insane" Some
times she would seem to know us, but
usually sat for hours unconscious of all
around her. One summer she was bet
rational And the neighbors
;aid she might get well and marry Elihu
lfter all-she never seemed to care for
anybody else" But as winter came on
The grew worse, and they moved away
% distant town.
Once, only once, was Mr. Marvin
ever known to assert himself. That
vas in taking Laura to a famous physi-
ian at an asylum. He told me about
t afterward with tears in his eyes, and
have always felt more respect for him.
The doctor said there was no hope: but
something in her youth and fragile
beauty must have touched him, accus-
.omed as he was to such sights. Take
her home" he said. Don't bring her
lere. This is no place for such as she.
She has grown istless-almost mind
ess-with only occasional paroxysms.
Her mother says: Yes, it's a mighty
'ight O work to take care other. S'pose
The come by it material. Her gran
mother was crazy fore she died.
Does she never think that perhaps
ler own indomitable will hastened the
blow; that it might never haye fallen
lnder happier circumstances Judge
lot, that We be not judged" She has
i hard penalty to pay, as the years go
,y, with her bowed, gray-haired hus-
1and, and the poor girl who viii never
lave glimpse of reason again. Charlie
wherever he may be, must
,ver bear engraved on his heart the
of that one summer. Does he
NOW the bitter, bitter ending? can
lot tell.
Perhaps the waiting angels
For such they say there be-