The Evening post. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1888-1889, 1888-12-10
THE MAGIC MIRROR.


4 was midnight when Pauline Gray
rosdfrom her bed and quietly dressed
herSlf. She was trembling as with
a paDy and her face and lips were pale.
She fought of the happy home she was
goingto leave, that had been her shelter
these many years, and, overcome with
her fears for the future, she burst out
into teas
Woul@ she find life with the lover she
was about to elope with as happy and
peaceful Is she had known In this dear
old home!
ooh, Alfred, you little know what l
am doing far your sake" she sobbed.
And as size sat there in tears pale,
shadowy woman came toward her and
said:
"My name Is Adeline, and I have come
to ask you to look in the mirror before
you 90 in the gecess yonder. Look and
ponder well onwhat you see there"
Pauline obeyed and for some moments
fixed her eyes on the cracked blue sur
face of the glass.
At first she saw nothing but gradually
the shadowy figure Of girl appeared.
She was tying an old-fashioned bonnet
around her coquettish young face and
she wore a quaint old travelling dress.
And the girl in the mirror drew
miniature from her bosom and kissed it,
murmuring the words;
"For your sake, Arthur. For your
sake"
1T is T." said the white figure at
Pauline's elbow. at is l. So left my
fathers home one day for my lovers
arms. Look"
Over the glass one picture after another
was passing in rapid succession. A
stage coach, driven fast through storm.
An old man tearing his white hair as he
sat beside lonely hearth. Two lovers,
her head upon his breast; one the fair
first vision Of the glass.
"Tney seem happy" murmured
Pauline; "they at least seem happy"
but, lookl" whispered the white
woman at her elbow. "There is no we'd
ding-ring upon her finger! And observe
this picture"
The lovers were gone. A woman
watched at window
1t was the beautiful girl again, but
changed and saddened, paid and worn.
"She waits for him." moaned the
she waitedl But he came not-he came
not. He never came again. Seel"
And Pauline looked and saw the streets
of great city; figure in rags, begging,
doubtless, of those who passed her
rudely. The snow fell; the wind flut-
tered her wretched shawl. A policeman
of the pasta constable with staff and
lantern-approached, and his hand fell
on her shoulder as he flung the light
upon her face. Pauline saw the features
that had been so lovely as the girl knot
ted the ribbons under her dimplod chin
and kissed her lover portrait.
"And now" said the phantom.
1t was night again, and upon a city
wharf men had lifted burden they had
drawn from the black waters---a dead
woman. She lay stark and white, with
her long, wet hair in dark masses about
her shoulders, and the full moon shone
upon her face.
az. is the girl againp' shrieked Pauline.
"It is the same girlp'
Then, as in magic lantern when the
glasses are moved rapidly away, two pic
lures passed--an old man standing over
a younger one weltering in his blood, and
a maniac bowling behind the bars of his
cell
my lifel'' moaned the white figure.
at was Adeline and Arthur sixty years
ago 1t is Pauline and Alfred now. But
the story is the same. 1t begun so; it
may end so. | have warned you. Be-
warep'
The vision was gone; the mirror, a
mere flawed, dim sheet of blue glass, re-
Elected nothing distinctly; and Pauline
lay in deep swoon upon the floor.
In the gray dawn she recovered her
senses, and disrobing herself, she crept
back TO bed. Her mother only knew she
was i'll and nursed her tenderly, but later
in the day Pauline, with her arms about
her waist, asked her question.
Mamma" she asked "did you ever
hear of woman named Adeline? Had
she anything to do with the old glass
there p"
then she spoke gravely:
THAT glass has always been called
Miss Adeline's mirror. She was an aunt
of your grandmother--your fathers
mother A man in every way unsuitable
to her won her heart. Her parents for
babe him the house. She eoped with
him. He never married her, and left
her soon. Her after life was wretched
one, and she drowned herself at last.
Her father, having learned the worst,
shot her betrayer, and then went mad.
1t is fearful story. That mirror is said
to be the one she dressed herself at be-
fore she ran away, and IL is said that she
appears in it to any girl of the family
who is tempted TO do wrong. My child,
why do you cling to me soy'
81 have seen her mother" murmured
Pauline. 1t was the only confession she
ever made. Her mother needed no other.
And so, whether in vision or dream,
or only by memory awakened in
guilty conscience from some tale listened
to in childhood--the girl who had fallen
saved the girl who had taken the first
step toward destruction, and Pauline re
manned innocent and happy in her
fathers home.
His First Sermon In America.
Canon J. Kuox-Little of Wooster Cathedral,