The Penn's Grove record., 1885-09-19

In a voice of agony.
"At, for thisl Yet it brings us to-
getherl Essie, you remember what was
said between us to-day-yesterday-
when was itP''-with a painful uncer-
tainty-''that last time we were to-
gether. / was wrong when | doubted
you'll You do love mep"
"Yes-yes."
There IS no n else2"
"There is no n else. There never
was, there W will be.o
"Winnie!n says SIR Gerald suddenly.
AT this the tall woman who had
watched Esther's entrance with dismay
his sister Lady Challoner-comes for
ward quickly bends over HIM.
"What is it my dearest GeraldP"
There is something | want to tell
you. This"-letting his tired eyes
wander to Esther again, and speaking
eagerly, though with extreme difficulty
lis the girl l love. You will be good
when | am gomez"
81 will dol' says Lady ChalloDer
hurriedly, with a badly-suppressed
sob.
Sir Gerald turns again to Esther.
you VIII stay with mep" he says
anxiously.
Esther in her turn hesitates, and looks
at Lady Challoner with gentle pleading
in her gaze.
"If l may" she says simply, yet with
pathetic dignity.
"Yes; she shall stay" says Lady
Challoner miserably, addressing her
brother. As yet it is impossible to her
to exchange words with this unknown
girl.
Until the end?" asks the young
young mall, looking only at Esther.
Until the end" repeats the latter
solemnly.
at won't be long, my love" returns
he with a sad smile, pressing her hand.
at this Lady Challoner breaks into
bitter weeping; to Esther however it
seems as though she and kindly tears
have parted forever. Her eyes are dry
and brilliant, but there is such forlorn
misery in her young face that presently
Lady Challoner goes up to her and lays
her hand impulsively upon her arm, as
though in a vain effort to comfort her.
Perhaps III so doing she feels she is al
ready beginning the fulfllment of her
plOulloC " Dclllcuu Lcla n iibblC ldJC4 D.,
probably with the same intent, she her.
self brings to Esther a low-cushioned
chair to the side of the bed, and insists
upon the girls rising from her tatigu-
ing position to occupy it.
So the early morning lengthens into
loon and moo fades into twilight and
Bonde opens his eyes again, and, after
a troubled semi-cOnscIous moment, let's
them fall with glad relief upon Esther,
still sitting motionless beside him.
"StIll with mel" he says dreamily
with u pleased look. Then-"I fancied
| was dead, and had no claim to you in
that other world. Do not let my cruel
fancy come true, Essie. Let me call
you wife before l CO."
A shudder runs through Esther's
frame; she trembles and turns pale.
"What is it?" says one of the doc
tors, STOPPING anxiously v his pa
tient.
~ want to make her my wife-now
at nce | have made no will; | have
done nothing for her. Her poor little
hands"-with growing and terrible eX-
citement-"will be at work all day
when l am dead and there will be no
one to help her. Tell her to consent to
our marriage, and get a clergyman to
read the words, and quickly. Where
is the one who was here a while sincep"
The agitation is increasing with him.
Frightened by it, Sir Henry, the head
physician, takes Lady Challoner apart
and converses with her earnestly, hur-
riedly, In a low tone. Then Esther is
appealed to.
"Hls last chance, if one can call it a
chance, lies in perfect rest Of mind and
body" says Sir Henry; ''any undue ex-
element will terminate his life prob
ably within the hour. And yet l will
not deceive you'll dare not say there
is in reality a hope of saving his life by
any means; there is only"-gently-
'the certainty of rendering his last mo-
ments happy. This rests with you''-
gazing lnquiringly at Esther.
81 will do what he Wishes" says
Esther, with quiyering lips. A little
later she is again sitting beside her hus-
band, this time his hand locked in hers
a look of great content and peace upon
his white worn face.
For three long weary weaks he lin
gers, lowering between life and death;
and then at last there ONE a day when
the doctors look less grave, and when
ever a sober smile breaks upon the lips
of the youngest of them. Taking Lady
ChallOner and Esther apart, they whis-
per to them Of a hope sure and certain
and tell them In all probability Sir Ger
ard in time will be again quite what he
was before that disastrous accident
that brought him to deaths door.
T0nar1a avapfDn no nnana hia ayaa
again upon his sister and his wife. 1t
is getting dusk; but they both see the
happy triumphant smile with which he
looks at Esther.
81 am to live thenp" he says radiant
ly. $50 Il caught you with gileI' he
laughs feebly, but with humor.
Noting his recognition of his wife,
Lady Challoner, full of consideration,
had risen hastily and gone to a distant
window. Esther, with a pale face, fol-
lows hers. and by a slight but vehement
movement compels her to meet her gaze.
"You blame me-" she says impetu-
ously; ''but 1t was not my fault. l
would have avoided the marriage If l
could. L too have my pridei Though l
loved him then as L love him now, |
would still have left him free TO wed
some one in his own rank. Ga that
very day, before his accident, he had
asked me to marry him, and had re-
fused" Her voice is unsteady, her
hands are trembling as she holds them
out with a little gesture full Of passion
ate depreciation. You must believe me
He himself will tell you 30, But, when
they told me that l alone had the power
TO make his last moments happy
Oh, what would you have donep Now
Heaven, In mercy, has given HIM back
to me; but how can l know content,
even with him, if those others whom
he loyes-if you look coldly on me2"
Her voice breaks, she draws her breath
with a sharp sob, and turns eyes dark
with fear and grief upon Lady Chal-
loner
She need not have feared however.
Going closer to her, Lady Challoner
slips her arm round her neck.
One never looks coldly or anything
haloUad ~ aha whfanara anfflv and