Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1884-11-15

back to her like psng that evening
when Alice was carried ont, fainting,
from the oppressive atmosphere Of
the ballroom. 1t was 30 like death
the closed eyes and pallid cheeks.
And her old fsther-how could she
render up her trust to him, if Alice
went back in the sprlng-time pale
and dropping.
Mrs. Garfield sent for the doctor
the next day. The man of medicine
shook his head and talked grsvely Of
pulmonary predisposition," and "tu-
bercular tendencies" and prescribed
quiet, port wine and beef tea. And
the upshot of the interview was that
Mrs. Garfield wrote to Farmer Cleve.
"Of course she is not seriously ill.,"
his eldest daughters spistle ran, "but
just little indisposed. Ifyou choose
to run up, toward the end OF March,
dare say she will be we'll enough to
return home with you. There is no
cause for alarm but our little Alice,
the doctor tells me, has not q strong
constitution naturally"
AS if Mr.. Cleve would have wait
ed day-scarcely an hour-after
this letter came, like bombshell of
ruin and dismay, into the peaceful
solitude of his home! He packed
his carpet-bag straightway, and took
the first New York bound train.
After travelling all night he'reach-
ed the metropolis just AS the early
morning sunshine was reddening over
the houses; and, to his surprise, the
Carried household were up and stirr-
ing. Marian herself met him on the
stairs.
where's my girl?" the old man
demanded, trying to speak chee-ily.
"Oh! papa, I am so glad you are
come!" cried Marian hysterically'
ave telegraphed for you last night"
"She is not worse?" gssped the
old man.
"Oh! no--at least-that is--we
hope she is not seriously worse only
sudden bad turn that is ail !"
| Mrs. Garfield threw open the door
of the apartment where, like pale
snow-drop veiled by the white drifts
of December, Alice lay among her
pillows! She opened her eyes at the
familiar sound of the footsteps!
"Papa! she murmured family, 81
only wanted to see you just once.
Now l can 60 in peace"
"My child" broke from Cleve's
parched lips, as her arms were wreath
ed about his neck one instant, and
then fell back on her breast, "Alice"
But she did not answer the sweet
closed lips should never speak more,
"My dear sir" said DR.. Fiske,
solemnly, when they had forced the
poor man away from the bed where
only lovely statue remained, "'there
is really nobody to blame. A little
over-exertion-a slight cold, render
ed obstinate by neglect; delicate
constitution. He hath given, my
good friend, and He takes away"
"It is lie!" thundered MIR. Cleve,
turning with pointed finger and
blazing eyes to his eldest dsugh ter
81 blasphemous lie! You have MUIR
dered her!"
And Mrs. Garfield, shrinking back
with conscious guilt, felt that the
words of the frenzied old man were
but too true. She had not meant
aught but kindness; she had loved
the young girl as dearly as herself,
vet she knew that hers had been the
hand that led the fair victim on to
death, garlanded and jewel-decked,
like the sacrifices of old. ~. z
Truly, War hath Kill led his thous-
ands and Pestilence his tens of thous-
ands; but what are these to the VIC
Tins that fall daily beneath the
wheels of the great Juggernaut Of
Fashionable Life