Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-11-17

love and new-ycs. ioue even nov,
frcshly-born OF tender truth and Voc
mans undying faithfulncss.
His friend joined him, and the car
riagc drove on. 1t was "adieu pour
jamais" between them now. But
when the last sight of him was lost,
she covered her face with her trembling
hands and murmured forth:
THANK God! All, so much, much
better than the meeting had hoped for
and so oftcned planned. What Heaven
gives comes always mystical with salts
faction. What could we have done j!
we had spoken of 1t all, but mingls our
tears and pierce each others soul once
more with unavailing regretsP Better
for us both to be spared it. But oh!
my love, my love! true to me, know
and feel it, only parted by our own mad
pride and folly! We are calm enough
now! We have both grown old, very
old, my dear, but it has been together,
although apart. Ii your brow had been
smooth as remember ii, and your locks
raven as when l saw them last, / could
not have claimed you for my own as
do now. We should have parted CONF
pany then; but not0 we are one-wd
were young together, We are old to.
gether, and the tie of mutual age has a
sacredness in 1t which nothing can dis.
turb. And then, when this last brief
portion of our life is over, we shall meet
at last, my love, without a tear, young.
and perfected, and blest for ever in the
kingdom of God"
Again her tears streamed- forth. Ex-
element and weakness hal shaken her
self-control to its foundations; and for a
few moments of rare indulgence she did
not stem their flow. Only few mo-
ments, however, for aged eyes can not
weep long.
When Laura came back, Aunt Doro-
thy had returned to perfect calmness,
and greeted her with smile that had
conquered sorrow. This girl was GER
tainly growing more and more kindly
natured from contact with her aunt.
She said, quite gently now:
WAS he greatly altered, Auntie?
You must have seen much change in
him, fear"
II knew him." returned her aunt.
And then, after pause: HE was my
lover for many years, and Inever loved
but him. Only, misfortune, chiefly Of
our own making, rash and foolish that
we were, came between us"
"You are very white, Aunt Dorothy.
Had you not better, after all this, let mo
bring you some winee"
mo, my child, nothing. Leave me
here alone little while longer, for /
want to rest, and may God bless you and
make you truly His"
Laura looked at her aunt half-fright-
encd at the solemnity of the words and
tone; but already Aunt Dorothy had
turned from her and was gazing alb
stractedly on the moor, where the gorse
and broom caught from tho sunset
blood-red reflections, that ripping like
waves over their surface, left shadows
of deep purple in between.
When she was alone: Il have had
very happy life," said Aunt
Dorothy; although some things
were denied, and the greatest JOY
granted me was followed by the direst
sorrow. But buried the sorrow 1t
was the joy that lived and has been my
companion and comfort all these long,
long years; the Joy of having known
love fully once; the certainty that all
true love holds immortality within it,
Thank God that He gave me strength to
take up many cares and interests and to
live with all my mig hit 1t has not
been useless life, and now at the end,
He has given me the great wish of my
heart, this browning joy-to look even
yet again upon the face of Ernest
Picardy."
She had no tears to shed, they were
done with for ever, and she was very
calm. Two or three signs she gave,
but there was nothing to tell whether
they sprang from sadness or from the
satisfaction of deep content.
Is Il
When Laura returned she found her
aunt still sitting there, but her spirit
had flown. Disease of the heart had
long threatened, and agitation so un-
wonted at her age was all that was
needed to snap lifc's silver cord. The
fullness of her cup had overlooked, and
the hour in which she had looked again
upon her early love had been her last.
In one heartfelt Nunc Dimsttts, she had
passed from age and helplessness and
pain into the country where such things
are not. and it is many year now
since Ernest Picardy joined her there.
When she lay in her coffin and they
went to look at her and give her last
kiss, who had always spoken to them
such wise and loving words, they wero
awed, even the most careless, at the
unuttcrable Joy and peace upon her
face. And they said that look of her
youth had come back to it, in this, her
final slcep Ar0osu