The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-06-23
LADY BEAUTYs JOY.
CHAPTER

Sophia found her mother seated on the
edge of the bed pale and exhausted. but with
nothing about her to account for her maids
sudden excitement. The old woman passed
her hand feebly across her forehead, trying,
it seemed, to collect her thoughts. and then
began to speak
@Have l been asleep l must have been
asleep. Where is Jonesl Did / not see her
here. o, Sophy, | have had such an odd
dreami thought there was a bali herein
this room, and yet my bed was here too and
/ lying on il, and between the dances a girl in
a blue dress, whose face could not see, came
and sat on the bedside, and she had a lover
with her, and they were toying and kissing,
and then I called out something and after
ward awoke. l suppose | awoke. l had not
known | was asleep
The maid subsequently told Sophia that,
so far as she knew, her mistress had not been
asleep at all; that all of a sudden she began
to call out very loud, if she were scoIding
and that in the midst of a torrent of words
she became deadly pale and seemed to faint
away. Seeing this, the maid had rushed off
for Sophia, and upon their return the old
woman was come to herself, and sitting
down Sophia had found her. The doctor
being sent for, made the usual inquiries and
examinations, and ordered his patient to bed
for day or two, saying that she had over
taxed her strength; but when alone with
Sophia he told her that there had evidently
been attack in the brain which might be
the forerunner of something very grave or
might be only a symptom of weakness and
old age.
THE latter l think" ne said as he was
leaving; "your mother is a very aged person,
| should fancy, and her last decay has prob
ably begun. How long she may live no one
b1tt Sha hkaf
again, and the rest of her life viii be going
down hill, how fast or how slow depends on
her constitution and our care"
Il told you, Sophy, that l felt a little
shaken" the old woman said, when her
daughter came back to her bedside. Don't
you remember what L said about the peach
trees! A little rest, Sophy, will set me up--a
little rest have had hard life of it, enjoy
ing myself; l don't feel tired of that in the
least, but every one wants rest sometimes"
There followed the contraction of life which
is the sure token of advancing age. Old Mrs.
Temple got up late; she seldom drove out,
and then only at the sunniest hours, and she
had all through the day her little delicacies-
turtle soup in tablespoons, champagne in tiny
glasses, and all the usual dainty forms of
nourishment for wasting lives Sophia re-
marked, however that her mother was more
than ever solicitous about expense
Il declare it is a sin to be eating this soup,
she would say. How much is this a quartz
a guinea, l daresay. And as to sending to
Gunter's, Sophy, it is waste, sinful waste
You would get it quite as good at the confec-
toner's here Fancy if l went ON with cham
pagne and turtle at this rate for year or
two, why, money would come to an end,
Sophy-money would come to an end"
Everything pointed in one direction: Mrs
Temple was living on capital; and she
dreaded the approaching exhaustion of her
means Sophia tried to get some knowledge
of her affairs.
"Could not do that for you, mamma!7 she
asked one day, as the old woman was figur-
ing over her bank book
'You, Sophy" she answered with a gleam
of her former vivacity. you, dear child!
you would not know which side is which
which is the mother and which the banker"
"Let Archibald help you, then!" Sophia re
joined.
archibald, indeedy' the old woman ex-
claimed. That great man STOPPING to my
little bit of business would be like camel
trying to get through a needles eye No,
thank you"
Elsewhere, too, some CLEANS of her old
spirit broke through the clouds of weakness
and illness, but Sophia, watching her mar
rowly, thought the vivacity only assumed
Even now she fancied she could discern
look of deeper care on the old woman's face
as she returned to her calculations Next
day they drove to the bank, and feeble as
Mrs Temple was she insisted on going in
alone; and she had long interview with the
manager. When she came out she showed
Sophia roll of notes.
1.-TWO hundred and fifty pounds Sophy,"
she said. 4 shall put it in my drawer, and
If am not able to get out again this winter
there will be money enough to 20 on with
l don't wish anyone to go to the bank about
my business again-mind that; and you need
not pay any bills just at present. What
ready money is wanted we can take out of
this
All this was alarming to Sophia She was
not the girl to give way to covetousness at
time like this; but who without uneasiness
could face the prospect of supplies perhaps
suddenly cut off at the most trying juncturel
As to herself, Sophia did not feel much
anxiety. Had Percival continued true to
her, how gladly she would have put any for
tune she might have inherited into his hands
to repair his loss, but now she was not in
terested enough in life to fear poverty. Be-
yond care for her mother she imagined there
was nothing to live for. She had tried even
after Mrs Hands visit to disbelieve the re-
ports which had seemed so fatally authenti-
Gated; but the very next day Sibyl told her
that she, too had heard from another quarter
the most indifferent account of Percival. At
this Sophia became hopeless 1t was curious
that the only person to whom she said any
thing about her trouble was Prendergast
Whatever had passed at the time of his pro
posal had set rp something ike an intimacy
between them; and one day when he called,
mo- hot tcha bs 10
remark upon the trial her mothers illness
must be-
1T is not mamma she replied; that l
could bear; but oh, feel SO weary and sickl
| have heard such dreadful things about the
man / believed loved me. Have you heard
anythingl Oh, do you believe it allg'
II am afraid Brent has forgotten himself"
Prendergast replied gravely, and said no
more.
Meanwhile her sisters, with the above ex-
ception, maintained on the subject an onin
GUS and dreary silence; and her mother.
whom she carefully kept in ignorance of the
reports, never mentioned PercivaTs name.
So poor Sophia, with her broken hopes went
her dull round from day to day, nursing her
mother and communing with her own sad
heart. and there was not one ray of cheerful
ness in her life She grew pale and worn;
and though she tried to be cheerful, every
one could see that care was eating her spirit
and strength away. Certainly the eonstrast
of her appearance with that of Caroline, or
even with that of Sibyl, was a warning
against living for an idea In this worldly
world The other sisters might not indeed
have grasped the whole substance-in this
life who doess But Sophiass very shadow
had vanished away, and she was quite alone,
and destitute not only of pleasure but Of illu-
sion, too