Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1886-08-04
mo 46. WOODSTOCK, VT" WEDNESDAY, AUGUST A. 1886

bad nows from home. Sho only mads
out clearly that hor presence was needed,
and with only one regretlul sigh for the
bright dreams sho had cherished, she
began preparations to return to England.
Turner earnestly begged to be allowed
to accompany her, but sho gently re-
fused.
81 shall come in few weeks, whether
you send for me or not We must finish
this interrupted tour together, Marian" !"
he suggested.
She returned homo to find their guar
dian dead, and their fortune gono -
swept away in some ill-advised specula-
tion. The maiden lady sought home
with relatives, and Marian Ray found
herself among the worlds workers, and
with helpless invalid to take care Of.
Helpless, did VIC say9 Nay, she was
the only hope and comfort of poor Mari
ans heart for her handsome, wealthy
lover came not, and tho letter she wrote
to him explaining their rcverscs of for
tune remained unanswered. She tried
to think of him with contempt; to hold
the love that failed in tho hour Of her
bitterest need as valuclcss; but she only
succeeded in tormenting her own faithful
loving heart, which, in spite of pride and
reason, cIung to that short, sweet ro
nance with hold death alone could
break.
All day she walked from house to
house, through the bitter cold, while
the fogs hung dull and heavy over the
metropolis.
1t was dark when she reached home,
and hurrying eagerly upstairs, she
pushed open the door, anxious to be
with her sister as soon as possible. They
were careful with fuel, with everything;
necess,t ,ty forced them to study economy,
and Marian expected to find the room in
darkness, only scanty handful of coal
in the CRATE. She entered to find n glow
ing fire, and the table set with daintiess,
while the little tea.kettle steamed merri-
ly on the hob.
Ethel" she cried, hastily throwing
off her hat and cloak, and turning
towards her sisters bod;
ooh, Marian, sstcr!" cried the invalid,
in voice mllng with strange emo.
ton.
Then Marian felt her heart leap in a
sulTocating throb of pain and rapture, for
out of the semi-darkness of tho corner
Mark Turner advanced, with outstrctch-
cd hands to meet her.
"Marian, have you no welcome for
me?"
A chilling remembrance of all his
silence and neglect swept over her, and
pride rose in arms.
Certainly, II welcome you, Mr.
Turner" she said, stiffly, stepping back
a little.
"What! have you forgotten1" he
cried, in kccnest disappointment.
"No, sir; it is because l remember,
that can give you no fricndtiGr' greet
ing. wonder that you can cxpccsit, after
such long neglect and GOODNESS. / can.
not pass over such sights"
'But Marian, he did not get your let.
ter; and he could not come when he in
tended, for hurt received among the
Alps kept him a prisoner for several
weeks, and then he had to search and
search, and has just found u.s." said Ethel,
half raising herself up, the crimson fire.
light giving even her pale face roscato
tint
Marian's face changed, and her eyes
mutely questioned her lovers.
at is all true. Could you believe I
loved you 50 lightlyp no murmurcd.
And this time she did not shrink back
when he approached, but gave him the
welcome he craved.
Ethel fell softly back among her pill
lows, her delicate hands clasped, her eyes
radiant.
The reader can readily supply the
sequel. Amy Waring.