Nebraska advertiser. [volume] (Brownville, Nemaha County, N.T. [Neb.]) 1856-1882, 1882-08-03

The following morning, as she was
seated in her own apartment she was
once more summoned into the drawing
room.
The Sister of Mercy was there, talking
to her aunt They both looked grave
and thoughtful, and glanced anxiously
at Ellinor, rs she entered the room.
ale is worsep' said Ellinor to the
Sister, before word had been spoken.
"Unhapply, yes. Madame, he isl
"Oh, do not tell me any morel For
PHYS saker' she exclaimed $50
young, so gifted, so admired; and it
was in this very room we passed such
happy hours together years ago"
She walked with fearless eyes to the
window, and, leaning her head against
the glass, looked down into the street
below, and out at the cherries gray
of the autumn sky.
She was thinking how new and
strange the world looked to her now
that Horace Margrave was dead.
They erected very modest tomb over
the remains of Horace Margrave in the
! Cemetery of Pere la Chaise. There had
been some thoughts of conveying his
ashes TO his native country, that they
might rest i'm the church of Margrave, q
! little village in Westmoreland, the chan
Gel of which church was decorated with
recumbent statue of Algernon Mar
grave, cavalier, who fell ut the Worcester
fight; but as he, the deceased, had no
nearer relative than few second cous-
ms in the army and the church, and a
superannuated Admiral, his great uncle,
] anH II 10 fnrt hnrpnnpn ltonnynFn1
that the accomplished solicitor of Veru-
lam Buildings, Gray's Inn, had not left
q penny behind him, the idea was quick
ly abandoned, and the last remains of
the admired Horace were left to decay
in the soil of foreign grave.
1t was never fully known who caused
the simple tablet which ultimately
adorned his resting place to be erected
1t was a plain block of marble; no
pompous Latin epitaph, or long list of
virtues, was thereon engraved; but
half-burned torch, suddenly extin-
guished, was sculptured ut the bottom
of the tablet, while from the smoke of
the torch Il butterfly mounted upward.
Above this design there was merely
inscribed the name and age of the de-
ceased.
ub iOllOWlllp ilc way vi ilOI-
ace Margrave's funeral, Henry Dalton
was seated, hard at work, at his cham
bers in the Temple.
The light of the Office lamp falling
upon his quiet face, revealed mourn
full and careworn expression not usual
to him.
He looked ten years older since his
marriage to Ellinor.
He had fought the b attic of life, and
lost-lost in the great battle which
some hold so lightly, but which to
others is an earnest fight-lost in the
} endeavor to win the wife he could so
tenderly and truly have loved.
He had now nothing left to him but
his profession-no other ambition--no
other hope.
81 will work hard" he said, "that
she, though separated from me forever,
may still at least derive every joy of
those poor joys which money can buy,
from my labor"
He had heard nothing of either IIor-
ace Margrave's journey to Paris, his i'll
ness, or his death. He had no hope of
being ever released from the oath which
bound him TO silence-to silence which
he had sworn to preserve so long as
Horace Margrave lived.
Tired, but still persevering, and alb
sorbed in II difficult case, which needed
all the professional acumen of the clever
young barristcr, who read and wrote on
until past eleven o clock.
just as the clocks were Ginning the
half hour after eleven, he heard the bell
of the outer door ring, rs if pulled by
an agitated hand
His chambers were on the first floor;
on the floor below were those of gen
tleman who always left at six o. clock
=" do not expect any one at such an
hour; but it may be for me-" he
thought.
) He heard his clerk open the door, and
went on writing without once lifting his
head
Three minutes afterwards the door of
his own Office opened and IA person en-
,, tered unannOunced. lie looked up sud
denly. A lady dressed in mourning,
with her face entirely concealed by a
, thick vail, stood near the door
| Madame he said, with some sur.
, prise, "may ! ask -
, She came hurriedly from the door by
, which she stood and fell on her knees
at his feet throwing up her vail as she
did so.
"Ellinor!'
, Eyes. | am in mourning for Horace
Margraye, my unhappy guardian. He
died a week ago in Paris. He told me
/ all. Henry Dalton, my friend, my hus
band, my benefactor, can you forgive
mc?"
He passed his hand rapidly across hi,
. eyes, and turned his face away from
/ her.