Weekly commercial herald. (Vicksburg, Miss.) 1884-18??, 1886-04-30

A lifetime Of anguish may be compressed
into twenty-four hours. Thus the young
wife occasioned more anxiety to those about
her than her dead in the days following that
awful Easter morning. She demanded Of
the kind doctor, with haggard eyes, IL the
young man above stairs had been her own
husband, and he endeavored to soothe with
out understanding her. She besought the in
animate clay to forgive her for sleeping.
II did not know we should have only a few
Moments more together before our life would
end" she moaned. Then she demanded
quickly Of her companions, the earth, the
sky: "Where has he Comet How shall ! ever
find him again"
Words Of consolation and resignation fen
on deaf ears. The landlady and the m
wept in helpless sympathy, but May shed no
tears. She sat beside her dead with clasped
hands, speeches., her face Of the same blue
pallor as the marble face on the pillow.
The landlady detained the doctor outside
the door.
"She has not slept or tasted food for
twenty-four hours" she whispered. Her
brain will turn. The shock was too great
for her, and sh has the look Of a mad
woman already"
The doctor held a letter. An idea came to
him. The letter had just arrived blythe post,
and could not concern the recent bereave-
ment. He entered the chamber Of death, APP
preached May and presented the letter, say
ing, in natural tones:
"This letter has just come. You will be
kind enough to open it."
Surprised, she raised her head, received
and mechanically tore open the envelope.
An Easter card was disclosed. An uprooted
plant dropped on a stone parapet, with rays
of sunshine slanting down in a golden tide,
and in the rays these words were traced:
II am the Resurrection
And the Life"
May read the card and turned it over in
her hand. The doctor paused behind her;
the landlady stood in the doorway. Then a
sound became audible in the room, a tumul-
tuous sobbing, and the widow fell on her
knees, clasping one Of the dead hands and
covering it with tears mi kisses.
II am the Resurrection and the Life" shere-
peated TREMENDOUSLY. ooh, beloved, l shall
find you againl'
The Easter card had fallen on the floor.
The doctor raised it and placed it on the
foot of the bed.
When the winter Of another year brought
It's SHOWS and clear, star-lit nights, Agnes
Clement still wrought in her studio, the glass
covered piazza. The place was changed.
Flowers now bloomed everywhere, with the
difference between the piazza and the conser-
vatory that the artist had painted them.
Roses swayed lightly on their stalks in the
sketches o the wall; violets and daisies
were scattered in profusion over boxes and
fans; fairies peeped from blossoms on orna-
mented cards: portrait heads smiled from the
center of dishes garlanded in ivy and ferns.
A glance into the domain of sister Anne
would also nave revealed little additional
luxuries and comforts unattainabIe with the
modest salary of Humphrey. Agnes had
learned to love her task, and dealt tenderly
with the flowers, hence her success. Occa-
sionally her attention strayed to a distant
corner, consecrated to Beatrice in Paradise
and 'Ophelia," and at such moments she
sighed.
Opposite, the superb conservatory still
bloomed in the sunshine, and here appeared
occasionally a pale young lady in deep
mourning, whose grave face seemed to have
forgotten how to smile. The artist recog-
nized her as the girl in the pink dress and
jewels, and associated her garb with the alb
sence of the brilliant young man. That was
all. Between them was a gulf, and thought
did not span it. Had Agnes penetrated the
spacious mansion of her neighbor she would
hav seen in Mays chamber, placed where
her eyes beheld il as the first object in
awakening, an Easter card, framed in ebony
and yelled with Grape. owe are all so inter-
twined that the same wave beats on every
shore" VIRGINIA W. JOHNSON.