Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-08-31

stood listening, as if she waited an an
swer TO her call. No answer came; only
the echo mImicked the plaintlye notes, and
the newcomers came up and stood one on
either side of her, ready to prevent es-
cape. but not attempting to touch her.
she discovered their presence, and, start
ing violently. she shrunk back.
''Why have yeu followed meI l am
only searching tor Marguerite. When 1
ind her we VIII come home"
Il have come to tell you, MA am" said
one Of the keepers, for such they were,
that we saw a young lady near the home
who may be your daughter. She wore
dark-blUe dress, white pIumes-'
ut is she! II must be she! There is no
doubt it! Take me to her at once.'
With singular credulity in an insane
person, she accepted his statement, and
rapturous light illumined the poor, pale
face and beamed from the restless dark
eyes.
The men lifted their hats to the two gen
men, and would have hurried of with
their charge, but John Clifton advanced
eagerly:
zone moment men; 1 wish to speak to
the lady"
Laws, it's no use, sir" said one, with
low, slightly c0ntemptuOUs laugh.
However, they waited, while John took
the ladY's hand in bis.
81. - uiAdH. before YOU 20 tell NE
If you have forgotten me? Don't you re-
member John Clifton? DOn'tyOu remem-
Der the old home, where Marguerite was
with you always, and the young man that
was with You so Often"'
She drew her hand away.
NO. 1 tell you not TO stop me now. I
am going to my child" And she sped on,
closely followed by her keepers.
The young man looked after her sadly
until the last fiutter of her sable garment
was lost in the distance and the weird
sound of her voice. with its mOnOtOnOus
call, was faint and far away.
"a total wreck! And this is retribu-
ton" he said, bitterly.
"JOhn, who is it?o said the little girl,
lifting her large blue eyes to his face.
''Why has she made you sadY'
MAY you never knOw!" he answered,
under his breath; but his face softened,
and, stopping. he kissed her tenderly
Il cannot be sad long when ] have you,
darling. Go TO the bank of the brook and
get your dear hands full Of those beauti-
ful viOlets, while DR.. Baum and | wait
for you here"
She looked at him earnestly, as If not
quite satisfied, but when he smiled she
ran of.
"Sit down here, DOCTOR" said John to
that wondering disciple of Esculapius,
who had witnessed the foregoing scene in
surprised silence. sit down. / see that
you do not understand my acquaintance
with this mad lady. l myself was unpre-
pared to meet her here, but l viii endeavor
TO explain myself
The plump doctor slowly seated himself
on the messy trunk Of q fallen tree, and
famed himself in silence with his broad
straw hat. John Clifton sank down beside
him, and, with his eyes wandering, some
times 70 the light, graceful form Of the
little Bessie and sometimes TO the soft,
tender blue Of the skies, he spoke.
"Seyen years ago, DR.. Baum, l was not
rich man. l was only young clerk,
toihng constantly for a very mea-
gre salary. which when gained
was dIssipated as quickly as
that thistle-dOwn is scattered by the
wind. l do not intend to convey the IDEA
that / was very wild or bad, Tor I was
carefully trained up to my sixteenth year,
when my mother died; but l was at that
time entirely alone in the world, and, in |,
the usuai. care. '4'' style o. most, most young
men of my age, L dlu - ~ LIZ st D-le
necessity OF economy TO huslne~- ue,
cess. When / had money a desire cOul0
hardly present itself, in my own life or
in that Of others, before it was gratltled TO
the extent OF my purse. This was my
mode of life until, at social gathering
one evening, 1 met Marguerite MOntjOy.
Then my " hole thOughtless nature seemed
changed and concentrated on one object
to improve my worldly condition, in the
hope of winning her for my wife. she
was 6eautitul-sYen more so than
the description you have Just heard from
the lips Of her mother. st. Julian is her
name, through a second marriage. Yes, |
she was lovely; but what attracted more
then mere beauty was the sweet express
sion Of purity and serenity. Everyone /
admired her pearly complexion, deep-blue
eyes and soft golden hair; but those words
sound commonplace, as her pure face
rises up before me now. ] found that her
mother was a widow Of very slender
means, and, from this circumstance, /
hoped that |, with my youth, en-
argy and industry, would not I
.,,, objectionable to that lady. As to
Marguerite. l never despaired OF winning /
her regard. Though l was so unsuited to
match with one so ethereal, L knew from
the first that she overlooked my unwOrthi-
ness and gave me the love of her innocent
heart as spontaneously, as voluntarily as
my own heart opened to receive 1t. Not
that she was forward or unmaidenly-on
the contrary, she was quiet and reserved /
but there was a sympathy between Us
which both Immediately recognized, and |
by which we each understood the others |
feelings. I went to her home frequently,
and saw her prOud-loOking mother and
her little sister, Bessie st. Julian, who
was then only a baby of not quite three
years, and whom Marguerite loved with
a devotion that have rarely seen equaled
in a sister, The more l saw Of the young
lady the more fondly did l love her and,
believe, the more closely did her gentle
nature cling to mine. In those trst days /
we were content merely to meet and be
near each other. never spent pleasanter
moments than those, though our love did
not eXpend itself in words. But one day,
in some natural, unprecedented manner, !
we spoke of the new gladness that was
our lives. l can never forget
how lovely she was that day, as we stood
in her mothers garden, with the bright pc
tails from rosebush showering over Mar
guerite's white dress, that made her seem
pure and sanity enough to float away
rom me. The sunlight fell in glittering
hecks through the leaves Of great pop
lar; the breeze lifted little golden ring
on her white forehead and cooled her
cheek, that held the rosy hue Of some rare
that tiay: / held her hand in mine and
kissed its pink palm. The pure eyes she
lifted to mine were full Of love such as
an angel might speak in brothers. ear
and blush not"
His voice stopped, and he averted his
face in silence, which opportunity the
doctor improved by cautiously brushing a
bright tear from each eye, as if already he
guessed at a sad finale to the simple story.
"YOu are a practical man, DR.. Baum,
and all this dOu btless sounds silly and
to you. My only excuse is
that a man may become morbid from
allowing his mind to dwell constantly on
one subject. Well, there are very few
Of earthly happiness that are not
soon Swallowed by some dark cloud. For
the moment we forgot this, but it was the
only time. The hard world came too
between us and happiness to
be long forgotten. When we came to
speak Of the future Marguerite remem-
bered that her mother would never con-
sent to our union. OF this she was
But why?' l asked. Il know |
that l can never be worthy of you, my /
darling, but if you can forget my inferi-
ority, why will your mother But she |
stopped me. DO not speak of inferiority, |
John. My mother knows-she must know |
that you are good and noble and all that |
cultivated gentleman can be; butt 1
blush to say it, Ohn-she is ambitious /
for me. She wants me to make wealthy |
marriage. | have heard so much of this |
that wonder that L have not caught her |
aspirations. but l cannot. 1t seems to |
me that in a matter like this money must !
ever be of secondary Importance