The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-03-31

him with her gratitude. Then she would
pour out her soul in prayer, or kneel
dumb with anguish till the chill dawn
warned her that day was at hand, when
she would creep shivering into bed and
close her eyes, that Cynthia might think
her sleeping.
But Cynthia was the witness of her
vigils. Night after night she lay awake,
heart-wrung, knowing that silence was
the greatest mercy she could show her
sister.
''She shall never know that I've seen
her," was Cynthia's resolution; and she
kept it.
Hers was not a nature to suffer wrong
without rebelling. She burned with in.
dlgnaton against the man who had
bEghted her sisters life. She would
have given worlds to meet him, to over
whelm him with her scorn, to see him
cover before her in the presence of the
woman he loved. She would not write
to him. She knew very well that such a
letter as she could write would fail of its
object. Her deficiencies were too many.
Love might read her cramped hand.
writing and herill-formed sentences with
loves indulgence; but indifference would
find in them only food for ridicule.
If she could only go to Redport But
Cynthia was poor and Redport was
three hundred miles away-a long dis
lance in those days of slow going
coaches, to a woman who had seldom
been beyond the limits of her township.
She could afford neither time nor money
for the journey, even if she were sure of
seeing Martin Ford at the end of it.
She had no means of learning whether
he had really given up his sailor life and
settled in Redport. A visit to the woman
who had sent the fatal paper to Mrs,
Tugg gave her no clue.
ITS one that some man down that
way sent my husband, on account o.
suthin' in it about fodderin', | b'lieve.
don't pay no attention to papers. 1t
takes all my time to do the homework
an mendin'." This was her reply to
Cynthia's inquiry about the ''Redport
Thunderer," and her husbands knowl-
edge was as scanty as her own. Cynthia
came away disheartened
Thus, in that drowsy village did the
three women pass their long summer of
pain, each hoping that her struggles
were hidden from the others. All her
life Clarissa had been accustomed to take
long rambleS in the woods and fields,
and if they were more frequent, now
neither her mother nor her sister seemed
to notice it. Her favorite resort was q
grove near the summit of the hill at the
foot of which their cottage stood. Here
she had spent hours of childish play and
youthful dreaming, and here Martin
Ford had asked her love. Here now she
came when grief weighed heavily upon
her, bringing her book or her task of
sewing, with the plea that she could &C
complish most out of doors.
One mild afternoon in October. as she
sat in this retreat, she saw Cynthia
coming towards her up the hill She
rose, thinking that she was needed at the
COTTAGE; but her sister motioned her
back, and came steadily on. As Cynthia
drew near, Clarissa saw a new expression
in her face, lighting up, as if of Joy,
that made her own heart beat quickly.
She sat down again trembling,
1--WE got something to show you,
Clarissy," said Cynthia, standing before
here her. '.And before L give it to you
l want you to think what would make
you feel happier"
''Happier!' cried Clarissa. 80, sis
ter! is there anything that can make me
happy?" ......
"Do you remember the text last sun
dayg asked Cynthia. when my
spirit was overwhelmed within me, then
thou knewest my path Icouldn't take
it then. You've been walkin' a dark
path this summer but there's One that
knew where it was leadin' all along.
Somebody brought you this from the
Center this afternoon, and it was sent
from China after-remember. dear, after
that notice was put in the paper"
She laid letter on her sisters lap
a letter addressed to Clarissa in the
handwriting of Martin Ford.
Earth and Heaven seemed to meet be-
fore the eyes of the long-hied girl.
Cynthia continued:
ut was cruel mistake The Martin
Ford that was married isn't your Mar
tin. He's distant cousin, that your
Martin never heard of till day or two
ago. This letter was to tell you that
Martin was comm home; but has been
delayed like the last one and he found it
himself in the office to-day and why,
darling! Clarissa! Helpr'
For Clarissa lay like a stone at her
sisters feet. t.
When she came back to life, the faces
of mother, sister and lover were bending
over her. She smiled upon them all,
and then wept out her joy, where she
had wept out her sorrow--upon her
mothers breast. N Y. Ledger.
An Honest BOOtbIack.