The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1885-01-23

'One would think not. But ieJ ME
ask you question, Mr.. Hopey"
yes, Mary"
slave you lived t,ro liresw
Said Hope, solemnly, II have lived
through great changes, but only one
life"
"WeI, then" said Mary, 81 have lived
two; or more likely it was one life, only
some of it in another wOrld-my other
world, mean"
Hope left off binding her wrist, and
said, II don't understand YOU" But
his heart began to pant.
The words that passed between them
were now SO strange that both their
voices sank into solemnity, and had an
acute observer listened to them he
would have noticed that these two mel
low voices had similar beauties, and
were pitched exactly in the same key,
though there was, of course, an octave
between them.
Understand me? How should you?
1t is all SO strange, so mysterious: l
have never told u soul; but will tell
you. You won't laugh at me?"
Laugh at you? Only fools laugh at
what they don't understand. Why Mary,
/ hang on every word you say with
breathless interest"
"Dear Mr.. Hope! Well, then, l will
tell you. Sometimes in the silent night,
when the present does not glare at one.
the past comes back to me dimly, and L
seem to have lived two lives; one long,
one short,-toO short. My long life in
q comfortable house, with servants and
carriages and all that. My short life III
different places; not comfortable places,
but large places: all was free and open,
and there was always kind voice iii
my ear-like yours; and tender touch
like yours"
Hope was restraining himself with
difficulty, and here he could not help
uttering faint exclamation.
To cover it he took her wrist again,
and bending his head over it, he said,
almost in whisper, and the face?"
Mary's eyes turned inward. and she
seemed to scan the past.
"The faceY" said she-"the face can
not recall. But one thing | do remem-
Der clearly. This is not the first time
wrist TOBIAS been bound up so tender
ly. He did it for me III that other world,
just as you do in this one"
Hope now thrilled all over at this
most unexpected revelation. But though
he glowed with delight and curiosity,
he put on calm voice and manner, and
begged her to tell him everything else
she could remember that happened in
that other life.
Finding him so serious, 50 sympa-
thetic, and so interested. put this re-
markable girl on her mettle. She began
to think very hard, and show that in
tense power of attention she had always
in reserve for great occasions.
Then you must not touch me nor
speak to me-" said she. "The past is
such a mist"
He obeyed, and left off binding her
wrist; and now he literally hung upon
her words.
Then she took one step away from
him; her bright eyes yelled themselves,
and seemed to see nothing external, but
looked into the recesSeS Of the brain.
Her forehead, her hand, her very body
thought, and we must try, though it is
almost hopeless, to convey some faint
idea of her manner and her words.
"Let-me-see."
Then she paused.
II remember-IVhi S,rdns."
A pause.
"Were they swans?"
Cor shipsp
"They iloated down the river to the
sea-"
She paused.
"And the kind voice beside me said;
'Darlingl' Papa never calls me 'dar-
ling"
Eyes, yes" whispered Hope, almost
painting.
darling, we must go with them to
some other land, for we arepoor. ;"
She paused and thought hard. poor
we must have been; very poor. L can
see that now that l am rich" She paused
and thought hard. "But all was peace
and love. There were two of us, yet
we seemed one"
Then in a moment Mary left the past,
her eyes resigned the film of thought,
and shOne with the lustre of her great
! heart, and she burst at once into that
simple eloquence which no nearer of
hers from John Baker to William Hope
ever resisted. "Ah! sweet memories,
treasures of the past, why are you so
so clear and glaring it seems cut out of
stone? Oh, if had fairy's wand, I'd
say, Vanish fine house and servants
vanish. wealth and luxury and strife;
and you come back to me, sweet hours
| of peace-and poverty-and love-"
Her arms were stretched out with a
grace and ardor that could embellish
even eloquence, when a choking sob
struck her ear. She turned her head
swiftly, and there was William Hope,
his hands working, his face convulsed,
and the tears running down his cheeks
like the very rain.
1t was no wonder. Think of it! The
child he adored, yet had parted with to
save her from dire poverty, remember
ed that sad condition to ask for it back
again, because of his love that made it
sweet to her after all these years of
comfort And of late he had been jeal-
Gus, and saw, or thought, he had no
great place in her heart, and never
should have.
All, it is rarity to shed tears of joyl
The thing is familiarly spoken of, but
the truth is that many pass through this
world of tears and never shed one such
tear. The few who have shed them can
congratulate William Hope for this
blssful moment after all he had done
and suffered.
But the sweet girl who so surprised
that manly heart, and drew those heav-
emily tears, had not the key. She was
shocked surprised, distressed. She
| II.