The Memphis appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1886-1890, 1888-04-01

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deavor OF soul could not rehabilitate her
exhausted body, and when Annis was
fifteen she was both motherless and father
less. Al her sister-in-law's instigation,
she was at once sent TO school, but, fortu-
nateiy Tor the girl, 1t was thoroughly
good school, In small New England vii
lage, presided over by kind, sensible
ana Intelligent woman, who made her
house real home for her pupils, looked
after them as mother would, regarded
their health and their happiness as two
thirds OF their neediul education, and yet
thoroughly cultivated their minds, not in
an unbending routine, but after their in
dividual tendencies. Here Annis devel-
oped into beautiful and brilliant woman;
the red hair had deepened into a rich
chestnut whose loose waves caught the
light with tingc of deepest gold that
shot through its abundant coils like
threads OF sunset glory; her delicate dark
brows and long curling lashes gave singu-
Lar effect TO the long dark gray eyes that
shono under her white forehead like
"antique Jewels
Set in SpotlcSs Parlan stone"
her complexion still tinted like the apples
blossoms, her full scarlet lips, through
which the white teeth flashed when she
laughed or spoke. the exquisite dimple Of
cheek and chin, the tall, graceful figure,
all combined 10 make a real beauty, while
through all this fair covering shone the
same gay, bewitching, mischievous, loving
soul that had made George Hale's little
sweetheart such charming child.
When she was twenty she left school,
she had begged TO remain there two years
longer than her brother intended she
should, for it was her real home, and her
slster-in-law was not congcnial person at
all, being a mere woman OF the world
grasping and obtrusive-in every way op-
posite to Annis herself But when Annis
was twenty Mrs. Jack suddenly died, and
her husband sent for his sister TO come and
preside over his house, his only child, a
daughter, taking her aunt's place in Miss
Pomeroy's school. Alice was extremely
fond OF Annis, and would gladly have
staid with her, but this arrangement had
been planned before her mothers death,
so that she had 10 be satisfied with spend
ing her vacations at home, and keeping up
constant correspondence with her aunt.
When her year OF conventional mourning
expired, Annis came out into society, and
hiohN Eh'AN HhtANrof VNA AiNlN was
thing deeper and more refined i'm her ma
ture than the ordinary "belle metal, and
she did not throw her whole soul into gay
ETY. and fashion. She made time TO read,
10 keep up her music, 10 improve her
French and German, by refusing at least
half the invitations showered upon her,
and she entertained very rarely. When
Jack urged her TO accept and give more re-
ceptions and dinners, she always answer
ed; wait till Alice is out; want COM
panion."
But every day she seemed TO grow
lovely. She set herself to her home duties,
to the work of her church, TO her charities
and her studies, with "a heart at leisure
from itself, " and that loveliuess OF charc.
ter that 10 transcends any bloom or grace
Of person transformed her day by day.
''Shure the likes Of her isn't long for this
Uneasy wurrld, croaked the widow Kelly,
one OF her pensioners, rs Annis shut her
door one bitter winter day after a visit that
had left both help and cheer behind IT,
otis the moral Of a saint she is this day
am ever, an tits thin kind is wanted
above, small blame TO 'eml IL nd be q
dark day that shut the eyes OF her 10 me;
but wellI know she's ready for company
10 the saints. II she be heritic; ~. Pcther
couldn't deny her the doore av she IL; tits
where she belongs. The heavens he her
bed, anyway, the darlin' crathur!"
but Annis did not look like diving;
health filled her veins and III her eyes; she
had been taught 10 consider health the fist
OF blessings that Il was In her power 10
procure, and made IL ~ much her duty 10
keep well as 20 tell the truth. 30 three
years after her sisters death passed, aud
Jack, weary with incessant application IA
business and beginning 10 fail in health,
found Il necessary TO 90 abroad, and de.
| cded 90 close his house and take Annis
with him. Alice would remain ut her
school in their absence.
Iiy this time Mary Niyen had grown Ia
| full womanhood, bnt alas with her growth
the inherited enemy within her had grown
too, and she had gone TO Metloin with her
aunt. Il was now Mr. Niyen's dearest
wish that George should marry his daugh.
ter; lac had awakened nj last to the fact
that Mary was a woman, and had set her
heart wholly on her cousin; but George
cared no more for herthan u cousin should,
nor could he pretend either 10 her OF Ia
himself that he loved her except with the
pilying iraternal affection any strong aud
kindly man gives TO n weak and dying
woman thrown In his way; NO Mary, III
and heart-sick, had set oil TO Madeira with
her father and aunt, and left George TO be-
haunted by the pale, agonized face, vel
with streaming tears, that had gazcd after
him from the deck Of the vessel M lac LEFT
them after n sal farewell
lie was n kind and honest fellow, with .
1 A
the mortal passion Of love. lie had been
absorbed hitherto In his business, and liv
ing IN his unclo's house, had seen little
society. for Mary's health forbade her 20
ing out or receiving nj home. lie had hi,
club, like any other young Englishman
and In his brief sumner vacation Away,
went fishing, or on walking tour will
some friend. But never yet had he seer
any woman who touched his heart. Al
for his little sweetheart by the river. she
had almost gone out Of his remembrance
As he went back day after day TO hi
rooms in his uncle's lonely house III
thought more and mop Of poor Mary. III
could not forget that sorrowiul white face
and he began TO ask himseliwhy lac shoulC
not marry her and make her happy for hi
mother, In expressing her own wishes, ha,
Involuntary admitted that Mary alrcad,
loved him, and lac knew from hundrc,
little incidents aud chance words that hi
uncle desired the match. But hitherto hi
loyal soul had rejected the idea Of mercl,
oxpcdcnt marriage u seemed 30 him
deliberate form OF perjury. Now, In III
solitude, pity and affection both bcscigc'
him. IIecertainly loycdno one else VII,
should he not make this dying child hap
py while she could be- lie had made n