Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-04-26
PARTIII.

full face, with it's large, starry eyes gleam-
ing amid the sombre draperies of
widows garments. Margie's married life
had been as a sealed book to those left be-
hind at the farm. Brief letters carried
the information that she was well and
happy, and for two years the loving hearts
that waited for news dreamed of no
shadow existing in the bright sky of
Margie's life.
Then letters grew shorter and less
frequent, giving the merest general facts
concerning her manner of existence, and
then Mr.. and Mrs. Bryant had gone
abroad, and all intercourse ceased, owing,
the family believed, TO the wandering life
Of the pair.
Dr. Lee had passed from life, leaving a
legacy of blessing and a loving farewell
for his daughter; and vi had married a
thriving young farmer, and the young
couple lived with Clarice at the home
stead. Near the close Of the second year
of wandering, letter, edged deeply with
black, came to the little circle at the
nome. Her husband had died, after seek
ing long for some cline TO restore health
20 his wasting frame, and now Margie
was coming home, TO the dear old farm,
never to leave it, she fondly hoped, while
life should last.
Had life and love been all it had prom
sed TO the innocent, trusting girl who
had so tearlessly given herself into the
keeping of stranger! Had naught but
happiness come To fill the years since she
left her childhOOds home! None knew;
fol- although the letter told of her utter
loneliness now, it breathed Of nothing
else, and when she arrived at home the
pale, weary face, with Its sOrrOwful drak
eyes, told no more.
SO Margie took up life again after its
long break at the old farm house, and
went quietly helping Clarice at her house.
hold duties, or playing with Yrs baby,
and gradually losing the shadow from her
eyes and the white, llstless look from her
features.
The years, whatever they may have held
ofdisappOiment, had not taken away any
Of the beauty that marked her girlhoOd,
but had, on the contrary, developed into
fun perfection the promise OF those early
years, and at % Margaret Bryant was a
beautiful woman. Those four years Of in
torcOurse with the world had polished and
refined the naturally delicate perceptions,
and Margie meyer more might say She
felt "ashamed" OF her mental acquire
ments.
Az first, upon coming home, she had
remained entirely secluded from all
society, not caring TO meet any Of the
many curious acquaintances who came
often 10 the house, but gradually she over
AhuAf lAAn laAAAHl vi AHhAtttAHF ANA AAAANrltu
more freely with the friends OF her girl
hood days.
Among the first whom she visited was
Mrs. Maynard. Time had not dealt
lightly with the Old lady, and she was un-
able 20 leave the house. The first time
Margie went to ste her old friend she
walked up the path aud IN ut. the open
door without knocking. How familiar
everything was. The same BRIGHT rag
carpet on the floor; the same brass candle
sticks and china shephertiesses upon the
high Old.fashiOned mantle-piece. Mar
gle stood a moment silent, looking az the
old lady as she SAT ia her high-backed
r0cking-chair, her eyes closed Ia a light
sleep, then crossing the room, she bent and
softly kissed the faded cheek OF the Sleep
or. Lightly as was the touch Of her lips
II awOke the old lady, who opened her
eyes and gazed half-bewildorCd at the
smiling vision before her. Margie knelt
down aud put her arms around the figure
In the chair.
"fou have not forgotten me, dear Mrs.
haynardY she said, softly.