The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1885-10-30

swered gravely. "The journey VIII
scarcely be necessary on my account.
Had you any idea that Miss Ross
would be at her aunt's to night, sir 7"
! inquired.
"Of course | had chuckled my
uncle. 81 arranged the whole affair.
Got Madame B. to drive with me to
the villa one day and lad chat with
Mr. Ross The long and short of it is
that | obtained his consent to your
marriage with his daughter, provided
he incurred no trouble or expense in
the matter, A selfish old man, Cyril.
You do well to take the girl away from
his influence. But, my boy" he added
wistfully, ''you must have the wedding
soon. cant last much longer
"Don't sir, for PHYS sake, say so.
You'll live for many long year, yet,
please God" said | brokenly.
"Ab, no 4! My time is almost run
he answered sadly "And | should
like to see you settled first"
| took advantage of Nine, B-'s
complaisance with the result of failing
daily deeper in love. Beatrice com
pletely won my uncles heart, and it
was pretty to see her tender soicitude
for him. In due course the day of the
ball arrived and | sent Beatrice a
bouquet and wreath OF flowers, bnt
as yet | had not dared mention the
wedding day. My uncle had been
far from well that day, and towards
evening alarming symptom began 70
appear. He was very anxious that
should go, however. declaring that he
should rest more easily whp he knew
his dearest hopes were c1nsuuma,,d
and | was actually marie, and grew
so excited on perceiving my re.uajane1
to obey, that at last / left the room,
pledged to redeem my premise to him.
before returning home.
Determining only TO explain my un.
cle's danger to Beatrice, and carry
back from her single word for him,
| searched the crowded rooms and corr
ridors of Lady C's villa, and at length
found her seated in the conservatory,
screened by large Towering plants
from observation, the very embodiment
of melancholy On seeing me she
sprang up hurriedly, vivid flush dye
ing her lovely features 1t was not
difficult TO guess who was the object of
her contemplations.
Cyril! / thought you would never
come. | even heard some one mention
that your uncle was worse and you
would most probably not be able to
leave him.
"And was this the cause of your
sadness. Beatrice p
She blushed and looked down, with
all the charm Of modesty that had
captivated me that very first day had
seen her at the pool. This innate
modesty was part of her nature, insep-
arabic as herself, as exquisite, alas, as
it has become rare.
Then l told her that my uncle was
indeed worse, and thought his end ap-
preaching. added that his only re-
naming wish on earth was our mar
riage, and begged Beatrice to name
the day. AT first she was pale and
agitated; but with all her modesty aud
simplicity there was such an absence
of coquetry about Eer that before
many minutes were over she had given
me the required promise and named
the day. Then, together, with as
much happiness in our hearts probably
as was ever given to mortal, we went
in search of Madame b -.
That good lady was not surprised
at the news we brought, but while con-
graduating me joined with Beatrice in
urg ing my departure, as my uncle
must require my immediate care. In
truth, my own eagerness was great to
hasten back to him. | bade them both
farewell. The servant met me at the
| door,
"Mr. Trevor is worse, sir" was the
news that greeted me. ''We were GO
ing to send for you. The doctor says
there is little hope
ran up stairs to his room. The
dear old gentleman was struggling
hard fcr breath; but he smiled aud
tried to speak rs | leaned over the
bed.
at is all right, uncle I said, softly,
''Beatrice has promised to Zoe minr in p
month from to day, but Inc back
to you the moment she heard of yow
| illness
He pressed my hand feeiy in reply.
All through the sorrowful night ! sa.
beside him, distressed at the sight of
his sufferings, which he bore so pa
tiently. Towards morning the strug-
gle abated, and he fell into semi stu
por. How strange life seemed to me
during the long hours of that watch I!
From sick-bed to ball, from pro.
posal to death How every act of
loving kindness came back to me as
recalled the years we had spent to-
gether, with never an unkind word to
mar the memory of the tenderness be-
slowed on me. And now-just as the
great wish of his heart, the only one
had ever evinced reluctance to fulfill,
was about to be graiifed, he might not
see the consummation of his hopes
How often it is thus in life.
When the dawn was shining clearly
through the curtains he raised himself
with my assistance, and, with the
ghost of his old quaint smile, be whis
pered:
: $50 you're going to be married a,
last, Cyril, and the old man has not a
= wish on earth unfulfilled. Farewell
my boy; you have ever been a son to
, me, the one bright spot in lonely life
God bless you, and make you happy
Goodbye, Cyril. Some day we shal
wish each other good morning in {
happier cline
Then he fell back as if to sleep-bu
it was the last long sleep that knows
no waking.
6 A few weeks afterwards there was
very quiet wedding in Pau. ! wa
q obliged to return to England and coul,
= not bear to leave my wife behind, S
: the trousseau was curtailed, and Beat
O rice came with me to disperse tn
= gloom of Trevorhurst Years hav
,S passed since then-years full of quit
7 happiness seldom broken by storms =
and never once have | reurettpd NEE