Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1884-10-23

foully as ! could-that it was not Ger.
aid whom she loved, but Mark Per-
cival?
Gerald was resolved TO work on in
spite of everything, We were not
rich, he said, and work was necessary
for several weeks.
Ste, instead of passing he hours in
his studio, as she used to do, would
remain in her own room with her
door locked l. -sulking, told my sister.
At last, one day blow fell on us
ala dreadful blow, and harder to
me since believed | had helped to
bring it-that, perhaps, ! was really
the instrument that had dealt it. Had
not made my brother unhappy, per-
haps he would not have worked so in
cessantly in the vain hope Of banishing
thought.
She found him one bright summers
day, apparently lifrlcss, beside his
easel-and for weeks he fingered,
lowering, asi it were, between us and
eternity.
And his wife, rcmorscfu of her
trcachcry and want Of faith, seemed
to have no thought but him.
She rcvcr left him for moment,
and if she slept it was by snatches
only, with her head against his pill
low, when the slightest movement
would awaken her.
After what seemed nm age OF anxiety
to us, the doctor said he would live,
but never more to work, Dor Gcrald's
right arm was paralizcd.
| had been growing less bitter in
my feelings toward Ste during my
brothers illness she seemed to be
really devoted TO Ii N. But when they
said he was not to work any more
with his brush, look of triumph
came into her eyes which puzzled me,
and again | began to doubt her, and
the doubt grew stronger when saw
her meet Mark Pcrcyal in the porch,
and stand for many minute in earn.
est whispered conversation.
Once from behind laurestinus
bush-I saw her place her hand on
his arm and look up into his face, her
great wild dark eyes full of glittering
tears, while she said, with quivcring
lips:
"IIow much longer? Oh, these last
weeks have been centuries to me.
And if-oh, if you have not been de-
ceivng me- may hope
"Eycrything!' he answered, inter-
rupting her, and taking the mite of Il
hand in his, 81 tell you that you have
not many days TO wait, and then We
shall both be very happy"
Upon this Ste smiled into his hand
some eyes with Il strange wistful,
gearing look that drove me almost
wild with the bittcrcst anger and sus-
plciOn.
Now | dare not even look back to
the horrible feelings that filled my
heart with regard to the woman whom
my brother had made his wife, and in
whom he had placed his happi ness,
his infinite faith, and, more than all,
his honor.
! But Gerald was in weak and criti-
cal state, and did not dare to warn
him of what feared. He was very
loving and tender to her, and could
see his eyes follow her slight figure
wherever she moved, with an express
sion of mingled affection and doubt
that was sad to look upon.
/ When one day she heard Mark PEREZ
walls voice at the door, she dartcd out
of the room to meet him, fo-gctful of a
mass OF roses on her lap, with which
she was making Il bouquet, and heed
less of the lovely fragile flowers, in
her haste and evident agitation, she
trod out their beauty with her feet.
Then | heard Gerald murmur to
himself:
Poor little one! She is so young!
! had hoped to make her happy; but
! am so grave and quiet that she can
not love me. God give me strength to
bear itr'
told my sister of this, but she
would hardly listen. Ste had bcwitch-
cd her and she declared that my
brothers wife was thoughtless child,
nothing worse.
The death of the summer had come
and autumn brought its wailing wind
and the leaves died in company with
the long bright days, wrapped in
splendid cercmcnts of rainbow hucs.
And Gerald grew no better.
The truth was that he did not care
to live.
Ste was in n state of feverish excite
ment, which seemed to grow worse
each hour.
One day knew the crisis was near
Her checks burnt with two red spots;
her eyes had Il wilder look and knew
that her ear was strained to catch every
sound OF coming ootstcps.
At last she heard the welcome sound
of Mark Pcrciyais laugh. He had
not been near us for II whole week,
and regardless of us she flew down the
stairs to him.
heard him cXclaim:
"Hurrah! it's all right"
And her answer was:
"God bless you! how good you are!'
In another moment or two she ran
upstairs again and followed her, but
if she was aware of my supervision she
did not care.
Gerald was reclining in an easy
chair; his face was ashy pale, and he
looked shadow of his old self; but
still his face was beautiful in its clas-
steal features and its large, deep blue
eyes, over which a fond look always
crcpt when his wife came near.
She threw herself on her knees be-
fore him, and catching his thin white
hand she kissed it passionately.
"At last l can tell you," she gasped,
between tears and smiles; ''you will
doubt me no longer, Gerald, and for
give me for having had secret from
you; dared not tell, was so fearful
of failure. See, Gerald darling,
there is no need for you to paint any
more. Ishall work for you, for us all!
Oh, Gerald, won't it be a labor of
love?"
And she held before him letter
from one of the best firms or publish.
ers in London,
He looked at it, then at her, as if
just awaking from a strange wild
dream. Before he could speak, how
ever she dived into her pocket and
drew, out roll Of bank-notes, and
thrust them into his hand.
"This is yours, Gerald, all yours; |
: am all yours, am l notp And l shall
have more-much more, l hope. Oh,
do speak to me, Gerald. Saw one little