The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1883-01-23


rated during all the years that Warren
bad spent at the naval academy.
After his graduation they had met
again, and Warren found his childish
love for Sybil fast changing into deep
er and stronger passion. But she was
the daughter of great shipowner, rich
and famous, while he was an humble fell
low, poor and prospectless.
1t had been one of his Whime, how
ever. to set aside the commission con-
ferred upon him by the academy, and to
enlist with body of marines, from
whose ranks he had determined to rise
by his own eXertions.
After he had met SybiI Vincyhe wish
ed that hehad not been so rash, for, az
naval officer, he might have made some
pretensioEs to her favor. But 1t was
too late to repent the step he hao taken.
and he must wait for advancement to
press his suit.
Meanwhile, the high sense of honoi
which had always been a trait of his
had sealed his lips. He felt that Sybi
loved him, but he would not bind hel
by the slightest promise-or even by tht
slender ties of confession to one whose
future was so obscured by uncertainty
So he never even told her of whs
was in his heart, though she must hav,
seen it hundred times shining through
his face.
They had parted with friendly words
nothing more; but hope was strong il
Warren's heart, and he bore himself likt
a hero.
Daring the rebellion his gallant ser
vice would in the end have secured hin
an adn iralty. but he had hardly received
his commission as lieutenant ere he los
his arm in an engagement and wa
obliged to retire.
Happily for the disabled young Office
at this critical juncture, distant rela
tive bequeathed to him the whole Of
large fortune, and Warren found untol,
possibili les within his grasp.
His thoughts at once reverted to Sybil
whom he hoped now to win for his wife
but she no longer lived in Hallicote
With joyous heart he learned that sh
had never married but concerning he
present whereabouts he &C uld find moth
ing.
Mr.. Vincy had lost heavily on severa
Government contracts for vessels, an,
before the clcse of the war every vestig
of his fortune had been swept away, III,
was one of those men to whom linancia
ruin comes as a fatal blow, and deatl
had followed it shortly.
Sybirs mother had been dead TO
years, and the young girl was left abso
lutely alone. Alter her fathers deatl
she had gone away from Halicote --nt
one knew whittier.
1t become Warren's sacred prrposef Il
ind his lost love, and for two years h,
had devoted himself to searching fol
her; but as he had not the slightest clue
be was baffied in every attempt, and haG
gradually been forced to relinquish the
sweetest dream of his life.
He was thirty-five years old now, and
WoS tuC itCutCuout III ctp-
ciety. He had not forgotten Sybil, bu,
she was to him as one of the dead, and
his love was such bootless passion thai
he hoped to forget 1t in a brilliant mar.
riage-perhaps with Miss Gertrude de
Veau
All these things came floating back to
Warren on the wings OF memory as be
held the Easter card before him.
1t had been just at this time that be
had parted lat from Sybil; how well he
remembered the day and the circum-
stance.
She had been in the little Hallicote
chapel where he had been to find her
1t was fair April day, and she was
busy preparing the altar for the Easter
service.
She had told him that she was to su-
perin.end the decorations, and when he
went to say good-by to her he had taken
with him rustic cross of bis own mao
ufacture, which he had twined with lilies
and with passion flowers.
1t seemed like yesterday that he had
stood before her and seen the pleased
look on her sweet face as he held his of
fering up for her to admire.
And what did it meanp As he sal
there before the glowing fire this came
back to him with more distidctness than
a recollection. 1t was reproduced on
the pretty card Miss de Veau had sent
him.
1t may have been only coincidence,
he thought as his heart gave bound oil
recognition; but there was the tall win
dow of stained glass through which the
rainbow colored light fell on Sybil's
beautiful hair, and the white fnted col
umns of the altar. There was the mar.
BILE font bsthed In pure rose-color, the
pile of flowers at SYPHILIS feet, and b.
standing before her IN his sailor clothes,
holding up the cross with look of in
terrogalion. That was he-yes! And
it must be Sybil! He said so, though
the girls face was turned aside, and onl,
shadowy glimpse of her profile was
discernible.
1t was beautiful picture. Warren
saw that at glance; bot who was the
artist2 1t must be some one who haG
known Sybil, some one who had wit
nessed their parting that Easter tide.
The thoughts and suggestions tha
crowded Warren's brain seemed to set i
on fire. He rose and paced the room
with feeling Of unrest. A hundred
emotions which he had thought were
dead and buried we're thronging back tC
his heart at this touch upon the harp
string of memory.
Ah. Miss Gertrude de Veau, your Sc
lection was peculiarly unfortunate.
When the hands Of the clock were
pointing to eleven Warren had put or
his overcoat and was ready to go out.
The Easter card was in his vest pock
ct, but in a memorandum book which ht
carried in his hand was written the name
and address of the firm which had re-
produced so exactly this scene from his
unforgotten past.
"Can you tell me, sir" Warren asked
of the senior partner, "who is'the au
thor of this designi l have taken
fancy to it, and would like to know th'
artists name"
"Oh," was the prompt reply, that i
one of our prize cards. 1t was drawr
by Mr. Temple"
Somehow Warren's heart sunk at thi