The Penn's Grove record., 1884-03-15

sometimes. and she knew you would
not love her if she were ugly. Sht
said you said so, and babe me tell you
how dear your love was to her unit
the last.
1.-THE nurse, MARTHA BLoOMGREN.'
An hour afterwards a waiter found
Charlie lying %senseless on the iool
beside his half-packed valise. 1t was
many weeks before he returned to his
desolate home. Then he found he
could not live there. The place seemed
haunted. His wife's dresses hung on
the wall, and he seemed to hear the
sound of her feet on the stairs, and
hear the door stir, and a dozen times
lifted his head and looked towards it,
almost hoping she would come in. In
his place. Nellie would have gathered
up small trihes he had touched, and
kept them where she could weep over
them; and she would have sought bis
grave, and sat beside it for long hours,
but those pretty personal belongings
were the very things he dreaded to see.
And her gravel All, good Heaven, to
look at it and think that 1t covered
her. He did not even ask where it
was. There had been a postscript to
the letter, saying that all expenses
we're paid. And the fact that she was
dead blotted out all minor things-all
save that terrible reminder of his idle
speech. That she thought of that
in dying, was very woeful to him. In
a day or two he locked up the house,
which he owned, and accepted the
position of supercargO on an ocean
vessel. The sea, with It's troubled
waves, seemed better to him than solid
land; to roam, his best relief. All, we
take the heart with us wherever we 60.
1t is not the land in which we live that
troubles us, but that hearts woeful
depths. Nor can sea or sky give us
comfort. An unhappy man would be
no less unhappy could he traverse
space, and visit all the stars, only we
do not think so when grief stings us to
go somewhere. To be at a distance
from the scene of Our great trial, is
always the longing of the unhappy.
Charles did not say much-he never
talked of his wife. But when the
vessel returned home, a sick man lay in
one of its berths, tossing to and fro,
and muttering again and again a
woman's Observation-Disclosures
"He's been disappointed In love-"
said the sterwardness, and cried over
him, and thought that had she been a
her, he never should have been disaps
pointed. When they reached London,
the delirium was over, but a pale
skeleton was borne to the shore.
flake him to Mrs. Boston's," the
captain had said. "She's a kind
woman, and will do what she can for
him." and poor Mrs. Boston, who had
boarded more sea-captains and ships
officers generally than any one could
count IN a minute, opened her hos
pitable doors and gave the invalid her
best bedroom.
II don't mind sitting up at nights
she said; "and Nancy is a real &C cd
girl, she'll help
Nancy was a shy young woman,
with brown hair, short in the neck,
and her features were deeply SCARED.
She wore the plainest possible dress,
and never seemed to be happy; but
since she came to Mrs. Boston's door
and asked for work, she had been in
valuable.
"Nancy Smith is a treasure, " said
Mrs. Boston; ''and l only wish l knew
what she cried about 50 much; only l
can't ask questions no more than If
she vas a lady" Poor Nancy Smith.
She was no doubt nervous when she
had stood beside the young mans
pillow a moment. She turned pale
and ave a little cry
He was in a sort OF stupor, and did
not hear her; but Mrs. BOSTON said-'1
hope you amt overcome by the sight of
Sickness
And she answered at once, IN a
frightened tone-"Oh, no. Pm an
excellent nurse. Do let me nurse him,
Mrs. Boston" And thus it came to
pass that that night Nancy Smith sat
up with the invalid. He slept or vas
insensible; even the doctor was not
quite sure which, or that he might
ever open his eyes again. And when
Mrs. Boston had gone to bed, and all
was still, that strange girl, Nancy,
behaved most strangely. She knelt
down by the bed, and kissed the pallid
hand that lay SO gently upon the
counterpart, and whispered over and
over again-"Oh, my darlingl oh, my
darlingl" Had Mrs. Boston seen her,
she would surely have thought her
mad. Silence lay on the city, and the
light of the late risen moon fell white
through the crevices of the shutters
and the lace of the drawn curtains. a
night lamp burnt in the room, and
showed a face that watched intensely,
and a motienless one with closed eyes.
The clock on the mantel licked slowly.
At the appointed time medicine was to
be given. 1t vas dropped between lips
that neve resisted; and lay alwaysjust
a little apart. "He is dyIngl" the
watcher thought. "He is dyingI'
But towards dawn a change came.
The head turned upon the pillow-the
lips parted.
"Nellie," whispered the voice,
Nellie, | want you.
Then the girl-this Nancy Smith
started, trembling, to her feet, and
knelt beside him. Her face wa close
to his when his eyes opened, and he
looked at her.
"Neniess' be said, again, "Nelliel'
then burst into a feeble, %quivering
laugh, and clasped her about the neck.
MY darlingl" he said.
And she cried out-"Oh, Charles, do