The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1882-10-28
eyes away that he might not see what
a very wreck she had become.
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q very wreck she had become.
But what could this fatal, terrible
secret be? He thought of everything
possible except those that would reflect
upon her. To his honor be it said, he
never thou ht-never allowed anyone
to speak of her except in terms of the
highest praise.
Six weeks three months-a year
passed, and yet there was no change.
except that she had wasted to a
shadow; that che ne longer was seen
abroad that her glorious voice was
hushed in the choir, and her once
merry laugh had dwindled away into
the very ghost of an echo. Yet still
there was no revelation, still none
were the wiser as to the cause of her
illness.
"Great Heavene viii this suspense
this almost mortal agony, never
end % said the disconsolate lover, as
he returned home one evening, after
having, by accident, caught sight of
The face he loved so well, Tor the first
tine in months. rs there no power
to ave her? On, that | could know
the worst, at once! Certainly it could
not be as terrible 81 this uncertainty.
| must know. / cannot live sny long
er ihus. She, my Mande, my darling,
will not see nae, and / have promised
not to modest her; but the doctor the
doctor! I'll wiring the secret from his
very heart"
But fortunately he vas saved from
his rash determination by the sudden
arrival of q messenger from Maude,
and with flying feet he FASTENED to
her side.
"Maude, my darling, my darling !"
was all he could exclaim, as he sank
by the bed upon which she was lying,
whittier than even the snowy linen.
Robert" and the shrunken arms
drew his head nearer to her, and her
lips rested upon his forehead in a holy
kiss.
SIS there no hope ?" Maude asked
as soon as she could command her
feeling.
"None," replied the physician, sad
ly, as he turned away to wipe his
eyes.
"As God wills. But now I release
you from silence. You can tell all,
Tell him how much L loved him.
Tell him how I have suffered for these
long months, and all for his dear
sake.n
And the doctor did tell all. He told
that on the very night of their
betrothal she had been bitten by a
rabid dog, ard believing that she
would die from the terrible disease
that would follow, she had nerved
herself to keep the secret-to free him
from his engagement, and had suffered
more than tongue can tell.
And if you had lived you would
still have kept sllence?" asked her
lover.
"To the end. But all is past now.
The sickness, fatal thought it may Ee,
has brought great happiness. Kiss
me, Robert, darling, L am dying
dy--"
"Husn I"
With startling emphasis the physi-
clan uttered The word. He saw that
a great change was taking place, and
it was not death, but life.
Agan the cherries hung quivering
like blood drops among the green
leaves, and the soft moonlight flashed
like silver fire between. And again it
shines upon Maude Livingston AID
her lover husband. The past has var-
ished like some distempered dream,
and in a few short months, waen the
roses shall blossom fully again upon
her cheeks, no one will ever dream
that she SO nearly j%ourneyed through
the dark valley and shadow of death,
to prove the trials and triumphs of
ICve and sain q life long happiness.