Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1886-12-25
man, and be grub where once he had been q


ment he had been leading had untitled him
| for the ministry, and yet he had longing de-
sire for some vehicle through which he could
| express the thoughts and ideas which still
| filled his soul and could not be suppressed. In
| this emergency, he sought and obtained
position on the press. He was a tireless
worker and a trenchant writer. He exposed
shams and exalted virtue. He spoke the broad
| doctrine of charity, and men were moved by
his words. But he burned the candle at both
ends, and one day he broke down. They took
him home to Edith CurZon and she became
faithful and tender nurse to him. She bathed
his feyered brow, brought cooling drinks to
him and quoted him in the delirium of his
fever.
Another twelve months have passed and an
other Christmas Eve has come. The scene
has changed from that of a year ago. There
are no blazing lights, no rare flowers, no music
now. Guy Trevor lies dying in the humble
apartments of Edith Curzon, and she sits by
| the bedside of the dying man, who losses I'M
easily on his couch, with his eyes fixed eagerly
and intently on the door.
''Will she never come? My God! Must 1
die without seeing her again? Die with the
suspicion on her mind that have been false ?"
He feebly means.
.'There, dear" says Edith, in calm, sweet
voice, while she suppresses the tears that
come yelling up. 81 am sure she will be here
tonight, for 1 have both written and tele-
graphed to her telling her how ill you are.'
''But she should be here now, now" he an
swers impatiently. do not try to conceal it
from me, Edith, know that 1 am dying and
to die without seeing her. 1t is too much; too
much"
Just then the door bell rang and in a
moment there was the rustic of womans
dress on the staircase and a moment later
knock at the door. Edith flew to open it and
Alice Trevor stood before her. Pushing her
aside she rushed to the bedside and falling
III harE ial harf ooa in ha olp fboS
and sobbed convulsively.
ooh, Guy !"
'Alice, my own true wife. Come, come
closer to your husbands heart"
And then he kissed and fondled her, called
her all the endearing names that he was wont
to bestow upon her in those dear old days at
Lenox; while she sat gazing at the wan and
haggard face, worn with fever, and the
shrunken figure which disease had racked.
Then, for the first time, she seemed to realize
the presence of Edith, and the cold, steely
expression came into her eyes again.
"Why is that woman here, Guy ?" she said
sternly to her husband.
because she is my sister, Alice, and if it
had not been for her kind nursing would not
have been alive now to receive your parting
kiss and to bless ye" before die
surprise. ''Why did you not tell me this be-
fore?"
because you would not listen. Because
you returned unopened letters in which had
explained to you our relationship"
Good God! have 1 been blind for all this
long and wretched year? Has my miserable
pride kept me from the husband to whom I
had given all my life and being, when he has
been sick and perhaps in want? God forgive
me, l feel you never cam" and Alice, sinking
on her knees, gave way to an uncomfortable
flood of tears.
Il forgive you, Alice, with all my heart"
said Guy, gently. ''Listen. Fifteen years
ago, before you came to live at Lenox, young
Englishman visited the place during the
summer. He was rich, handsome and a great
favorite among the summer boarders. and
completely turned the hesds of all the girls in
the village. Among these my little sister
Edith, then only sixteen years old. Father
warned her against seeing the young English
man, and even went so far AS to be harsh and
cruel with her She was quck-tempered and
somewhat headstrons. One day the young
EnGlishman had disappeared, and when We
went to look for Edith we could not find her."
''They had eloped ~
s'Wait and listen. Father was furious He
declared that she had disgraced the family,
and calling us all together, solemnly cursed
her and swore that she should never again
cross his threshold. But always had faith in
our little Edith. Bye-and-bye l received
letter from her postmarked London in which
she told me that she loved Alfred Curzon
dearly, that they had been married in Boston
and Were living i'll a fashionable quarter of
London, he the most devoted of husbands to
his child-wife. But she forbade me teSing
any one until she gave her consent. Well,
years went by and the consent never came.
As told you she was headstrong, and in this
instance intleXible. Last winter We met at
ball. The recognition was mutual, and you
know the rest How you accused me of in
fidelity with my own sister and were jealous
without cause"
''But that interview in the conservatory,
where she said you must go somewhere with
her? What did that mean:"
sit meant that had succeeded in effecting
a reconciliation between her and father; and
that the following day you, she and l would
have started for the old homestead at Lenox,
whene | would have restored her to fathers
arms, and We would have all spent happy
Christmas together"
''Oh, Edith, can you ever forgive mc?" cried
Alice, impulsively rising to her feet. For an
swer Edith held open her arms and uttered the
word:
''Sster."
The two women stood in close embrace and
their tears mingled. Then there was move
ment in the bed and, turning, they saw that a
sudden change had come over Guys face.
There was blue rim around his mouth and an
expression of tender thankfulness in his eyes.
They were by his side i'll moment.
''Closer, Alice, Edith" he mrlrmured with
difficulty. 81 am happy-oh, so happy-now.
There is nothing to keep me here; but you will
both think of me and pray for me as was be-
fore this feverish life came over me- 1t is get
ting so dark. l cannot see you. Is that you,
ALICE"
Eyes, sweetheart, here by your side, holding
your hand and looking into your dear face"
She answered between her tears.
'Alice, darling, { o you remember that first
sermon at dear OLD Lenox, and the promise
you made me?"
''Yes, Guy, my husband, and God forgive
nc, have broken it,"
but now, Alice now" and here his voice
grew fainter, Love conquers all, and, with
charity, is invincible."