Roseburg review. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 1885-1920, 1888-10-26
HER REWARD.
A story written expressly for THE REVIEW
(By Mrs E. r. W.

cred a brilliant match, and many
maneuvering mammas were fearfully
shocked when the handsome, wealthy
Harold Bertrand married plain Marcia
Fay. He would have none Of the
frivilous butterflies of fashion, but
Marcia with her good, loving heart
and generous, compassionate nature,
for it was to her came the poor and
MANNED, and never beggar was
turned away empty handed: "What
little time we live here, we should hold
out helping hand to the poor and
lowly," she would say. Harold was
really generous and lavished his wealth
on all his friends, but he had rather
Marcia would not occupy SO much Of
her time and thoughts upon the beg.
gars. It really did them no great good.
and only encouraged others to become
worthless, but Marcia's views were
different.
They had been married eight years
and neve: were two, more suited to
each other, there had never been a
secret between them, he lavished his
love and wealth upon her. There
were two lovely little children, Harold
six years old, and little Lillian three.
Harold was very earnest child, and
seemed older than he really was; his
eyes were large and blue, and his hair
was thick with many curls, and Lillian
was she little Fairy or only sun
beam2 Her eyes like her brothers were
blue, and woven out of sunshine was
her sunny, golden hair, her long curl
ing lashes swept her little cheeks.
Marcia would watch then, with many
proud and loving smiles.
In days gone by, there was one who
loved her, with such deep devotion, he
would have lain down his life for her:
poor, worthless, dissipated Claud
Felix. Many times her thoughts
would wander back, and the memory
of those dark pleading eyes would come
to her, as he knelt at her feet and
would plead in accents wild: "Marcia,
Marcia, if you would only help me,
only be mine, you can take my life IN
your own hands, you can mould me at
your viii. o, Marcial I would lead a
different life, you could reform me, as
no other couldp' but she would say
gently. his life was in his own hands,
to be brave and reform himself. That
poor lost boy, that wrecked life, she
had not the power to save him. Sinct
she was married she had seen him bu
few times, "only to gaze upon hel
afar, she is as far" he would thinl
"she is as far above me, as the stan
are above the lifeless clods." The veig
thought of that poor boy would cause
the jealous pangs to shoot through
Harold's passionate heart; he could no
even bear the thought of any othe
loving his peerless Marcia. He strey'
to crush and drive out the demon from
his heart, but satan rules the heart o.
passion and seldom loosens his holC
upon willing victim.
1t was early spring, the crocuses be
gan to push their little faces timidl,
out to the sunshine. They had beer
so snug and warm down there in tn,
bosom Of mother earth, would thil
other world be as tender to theml they
thought The tender leaves futtereC
in the soft breeze, Marcia was ou
among her flowers, the moon wal
hanging lowin the heavens, the air was
soft and mild, the dav had been so fair
"Dear little crocuses," she thinks show
sweet and timid you look out here il
the moonlight" s'Marcia" voice cali
to her, strangely familiar voice, hu
now, so fall of horror, fearlessly sh'
turns and meets the dark implorin,
eyes of her brother Clarence-th,
brother she used to nurse when he wa
a little, lisping child, it was to Marci
he always came with his dead pets an
broken toys, dear little. motherles
Glare, she would hold his little hea
upon her breast, dry his tears, an
hush his little sobs. He came to he
now: "Marcia, Marcia! hide me, hid
me! they are after me, hide me and
will tell you ALI"
| Clare, Clare! my poor brother wha
is it7 Come to me, come to mei'
"Marcia, tenderest heart on eartl
how can 1 tell you, will you belieS
mel In all this wide, wide world, 20
are the only one I can trust. Al
father, my poor old father, Marcia 70
know how the.demon would take po
session of him, the demon drink. II
came home tonight mad with drinl
when 1 expostulated and pleadfor hi
to give up the mad habit, o, Marci
ne was mad, he knew not what he di
he grasped revolver and dashed upc
me, and Marcia, as God is my witne
know not how it was done, but
the struggle, l thrust ont my hand
ward it of, there was loud repol
he fell and the life bloed streams
from ghastly wound in his forehea
| was dumb with terror, there WAS !
other witness, but God. ran out
was so frightened. The servants II
in, / heard their loud cries, - b
killed his father, his poor old fathe
Marcia you must hide me Til the G
citement has died away, then / will
away, | will 90 ont % Austria
where am unknown would so a
,oIl them II Int they would not