Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-03-23


ing the situation, he followed Charlie in to
the dining-rOOm, and had the grace to
drop the subject quickly and easily.
CHAPTER XVI.
In the fast-running train which this
brilliant afternoon was rapidly nearing
c. were the usual number of com
Portable passengers. Being a day-train
there was none of the half-gOtten-up look
among them, of travellers who had slept
and breakfasted under the car roof.
These were fresh in toilet, fresh in face.
alert for anything agreeable, with the
stir of late arrival still in their rested and
comfortable looks. Perhaps the freshest
and prettiest passenger to-day is Ellen
Weston, with all the deceptive health
tokens which pulmonary disease brings
to foredOomed faces. Her cheeks are red,
her bright eyes brilliant, and her pleased
lips are half smiling, whilst her glossy,
black hair shows the damp curling pretti-
ness which is always noted with just such
a complexion. The girl is almost happy.
Her face looks calm and quiet. There is
no outlook Of anxiety in her steady eyes
no nervous unrest in her attitude. Shels,
perhaps, more nearly content than any
one in this crowded car to-day. And
what makes up the measure of her salts
AcNlAbhs aoAG - wen GuOu2u lOE Inc ilOuE.
satisfied for the hour, and she looks no
further. She is leaving behind forever a
life of toll and life of slavery, and, she
thinks, she is going toward rest and hope
Not far does she look ahead for her tenn
pOral future. She firmly believes it lin
tied to months and days; but these VIII be
among the pure, the unselfsh, the good:
and Herewith she is content
DR.. Fearne's letter had brought her
most hqnnU hoI hn min e
true, loving kindness. He had babe her
come and be welcome, not to his home
only, but TO his heart. He had accepted
the care of her happiness as a divine
trust. He had not offered a favor; he had
recognized her rightful claim; and he had
written in the true spirit and letter OF
Christian hospitality. This soulful letter
had been supplemented by few tender
WOmanly words from his Wife's pen, and
the girl, whose bitter life experience
had often suggested a doubt OF the posi-
bllity Of two good Samartans in the
worlds whole history, sent her full heart
out to meet the love and care so kindly
promised her. She was already rested.
She had said to her weary soul:
REST thy tired, fluttering wings; close
thy eyes. The morning is not far
ahead, and, for the time, the storm has
ceased"
At first the consciousness of sin had
weighed her down. How could she sully
this pure home with her presence? How
accept mercy and love, help and care,
given in ignorance Of the truth? But she
had rightly judged that, to these broad
and large-sOuled Christians, sin, for
saEen and sOrely repentcd, carries not
with 1t the fndellible faint with which the
pharisaical invest it. At any rate, she
was willing to trust those who, not in ~
nOrance, daily prayed: "FOrgiVe our
tresspasses as we forgive those who tres
pass against us" So. with calmness and
content, the journey was made.
At its end she found herself not well
coined with courteous words as she had
pictured it; put an old man, erect and
beautiful, with snowy curls on his should
ers, and the light of true love and pity in
his dark eyes, had held her to his heart.
and, with low, broken words, had said:
welcome home, dear daughter. dear
orphaned childw
Her eyes did not fill with tears; that
was not her way; but her strong soul
vowed its duty and allegiance to this mes
senger of Christ. "Until death! until
DEATH" she repeated to herself many
times as they rode hOmeward, with
clasped hands and hearts too full for utter
ance.
There was no need of words. These
two, socially so far asunder, recognized a
hluSllD VI bOuiSs ana were baIlSHeU. Inc
mans look of strength, of excellence, of
genuineness, was met by the fragile, ap-
pealing eyes of a helpless woman, in
whose face were no tokens of smalness,
and the bond of affection was made and
sealed for life; and, yet, from his full
heart and from her trembling lips came
ne sound of words. Very tenderly he led
her into the house, and into his wife's
presence, as he said:
'Eere, Mary, is our other childv and
again she was held close. close to a Chris
tian heart, and tender voice said:
My child, can you forgive our long and
sinful neglect"'
Still the girls brave eyes showed no
tears; but firm, clear voice made an
swer:
There's nothing to forgive, dear
madame. Only let me love you two
for a while; rve no one else in all the
world"
And the minister, too, found voice.
'Our love shall be the cup of cold
water to this little one of Christ's until
He call us apart" he said, as he tenderly
laid one hand on the girls head.
His wife, with wOman's keen outlook,
saw through the flimsy disguise Of bright
ness and color; saw the inr0ads of disease
and pain.
~ on are not quite strong, Ellen. Sup
pose you lie here on the sofa a while
until you have some tea. Are you not
Yes, ma'am, I'm tired, and, if YOU
Will, l viii rest here a While where / can
see you two"
And you Travelled alone, you, so young
and friendless? How did YOU fare?" a SKIS
the kind voice of the doctor when his wife
is gone to order tea.
Ellen laughed.
"BeIng alone is my normal condition. l
am always alone, and, indeed, can care
for myself; Pm not afraid"
' CBoer MS urea. -.. sne heard hl.A sigh:
~. enid, Poor child"
She felt that talk of this sort would
only bring self-reproach to tins good
friend, and, rOusing herself, she talked
brightly and pleasantly of her short Jour-
ney, of the fine weather, of people she
had met, and, later, drank her tea. en-
tlrely to Mrs. Fearne's satisfaction. So
that when, at an early hour, she retired.
the impression she left behind was of
bright young girl to whom even the cold
world had been rather kind and who
might be nursed back into possible long
life of happiness and goodness.
This long winter evening Escotte had
spent with Charlie, and only returned, af-
ter Ellen retired, to hear her grace and
sweetness praised by these two. so cath
Ollie of spirit, so soft of heart. He had a
quiet satisfaction as to the result of their
hospitality, He was glad the experiment
had proven agreeable, but his thoughts
were too full of his own affairs to afford
room for much speculation as to this new
conner.
In her own room Miss Weston stands
looking at herself in the dressing mirror.
She had always a kind of quaint humor
in her disposition which had, heretofore,
in her careless life, rather taken the place
of that sentimentality which belongs CON-
monty to women of her stamp. She mad
way of testing in a whimsical sort with
herself about any or all of the serious
problems of life. This has been impossible
to persons much less coolly brave and
fearless than this frail, delicate girl; but
it was thoroughly characteristic of her.
Taking almost as little thought of her
morrow as did the sparrows feeding at
her window, she accepted the events of
the hour with a kind of Bohemian phil