The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1886-02-23

for q minister, and remain until he
Gomez" she asked as she began to re-
move her things.
There was something in her manner
that forbade questioning, and they
obeyed her like so many dumb men, as
they said afterwards.
The minister did come. William Skin
ncr, the head servant was called, and
after the three held Il private conference,
which seemed to be satisfactory, thoy
came out, and, to the amazement of ali.
the lady stood beside Arson Grey, and
the marriage vows were taken.
The wise doctors were mistaken in
their estimation of this fair unknown.
She was something beside u fair young
lady, as her actions soon proved. A
new order of things was instituted in
the sick mans room, and his wife in
stalled herself Us nurse, Il change which
told for the better. In Il month he was
riding through the village, with his
bride by his side, all eyes of course,
agog, to catch II glimpse of her hand
some face.
All agreed that she was just an angel;
and when they came to church the next
Sunday, and sat down in one of the
Pews like other people, they were mere
than ever confirmed in their opinion.
What they ever knew was this.
Three years before, Arson Grey,
naughty and indolcnt, was killing time
at one of the fashionable watcring-placcs,
where Edith also fingered, though sorcly
against her will.
a sweet and wondrous fair face, much
admired and sought after, Arson Grey
had half a mind to enter the lists with
the others, but something kept him
back, and he only exchanged a few
words with her now and then.
There happened to come a heavy, two
days flooding rain, and the first night of
1T Edith sent u servant asking Mr.: Grey
to come to her private purlor for Il mo-
mcnt. IIc obeycd the with
alacrity, though wondering what could
be coming now.
Edith was awaiting him, cloakcd and
hooded. evidently in haste to be off
somewhere.
Il hope You will pardon me-" she said,
rs he closed the door behind him, "but
really did not know whom to ask, and
mamma will not allow me to 20 by my
self. A poor woman down on the beach
is sick, perhaps dying, and 1 must go to
her. Her little boy just came after me.
l was there yesterday and they are in
great distress. Could l trouble you to
go with mc?'
81 will do your GRAND. 1t is too
stormy for you to venture out"
Mr.. Grey saw what she wanted, and
saying he would be back directly, van
ishcd for his rubber suit.
The rain drove into their faces. and
the wind howlcd through the black
night like a minister of Il thousand
storms-not for n poor fisherman, per
haps, but for one us good and fair as
Edith Willoughby, he should not have
hcsitated a moment. When they come
upon the beach the waves fairly lcaped
into their faces. and Edith shivcrcd and
chung, half terrified, to her companion,
in spite of herself.
81 believe you had better return now
and leave it to me-" Mr.. Grey said.
"No, we are almost there. | should
never forgive myself if l did" she AL
swcrcd, catching her breath as she
spoke. cit is only you l am worried
abOut.'
~ am glad to be able to help you,"
he said. And I think he spoke the
truth.
Inside the cottage poor Grace Poolcy
lay on the hard bed, trying to breathe
on a little longer, if SO the good God
might bring some good friend before
she died to care for her orphan boy.
When thedoor opened her eyes bright
ened. and she raised up IL little.
"Thc Lord bless We for coming. I
know He will ~ she said, as Edith threw
off her wet covering and went toward
her.
This is only one of the boardcrs who
came with me-, she said, in reply to the
questioning look. II should have come
to-day had l known you were worse"
She sat down beside the bed and An
son Grey watched her as she spoke in a
low, tender voice to the grateful wo-
man. Among the words he could Gis-
tlnguish was Il promise to sec Jamie,
and when the woman who seemed to be
the nurse came up to administer some
thing, and in Il half-whispcr asked Edith
to pray with item, he began to think he
was in another world. And it was an
other to lin, ruly. Surely she would
never do that! But she did. Knccling
upon the bare floor and clasping her
white hands she sent up such n PRAYER
for help and strength as Arson Grey
had never dreamed of hearing !eforc.
After that night Arson Grey knew
where his heart was, but for his life he
dared not approach Edith. She seemed
an unreasonable distance from such as
he; but he cherished the memory of her
prayer as the one glimpse into heaven
for which he should thurx God all his
life.
Edith's mother was a gay woman, and
such she meant her daughter to be,
though for her life she could not keep
her from fcrreting out and helping also,