The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-01-15

Nearly four years had passed away
swiftly, perhaps, to the joyous ones Of
earth: but, ah, slowly to those bowed down
with grief!
The Reaper Death had not permitted his
| sickle to rust Among the thousands he
had cut down We're several characters who
have hitherto figured prominently in our
story. Far away in Richmond's beautiful
metropolis, Hollywood, the good tobaccon-
| ist and his sanity wife were sleeping, and
in the same section, by her fathers side,
| slept Florine also. Mr.. Woodbury., too, was
dead
Since the latter's death, Mrs. Woodbury.
had been residing with Charlie, who was
| the beloved rector of an Episcopal church
| in the West
Virgil was still living in Columbus He
had never visited Richmond since he had
made his home in the former city. Milton,
however, had spent his vacation with Pau
line, and for the past session had been a
student of Richmond College.
Since her fathers death, Pauline had
chung to Milton as her only earthly comfort
The boy, with his lovable ways and his
buoyant spirits, was just such companion
as the lonely girl needed. He went with her
| to church, to the cemetery, and to visit the
| sick and the destitute He conducted reg
ularly the morning. and evening devotions,
which Mr.. Morriss had conducted until
within a few days of his death. Her own
brother could not have been more tender
and sympathetic than was Milton. He alone
could cheer Der dropping spirits. He alone
| had the power to bring a smile into her
cOuntenance. She had loved him since he
was little lad; but now in her sorrow and
| loneliness, he had grown, oh, so dear to her
heart-dearer than her own brother-and
| as she realized how fast the session was
| drawing to its close, and that Virgil would
expect his brother to pass the summer with
him. she felt that the separation would be
worse than death-far worse; for death was
but the door leading into the eternal city,
where her loved ones awaited her.
On the day of which we write-a lovely
afternoon in June-she was seated in the
library, vainly endeavoring to concentrate
her mind upon a book which lay upon her
lap. She was clad in mourning habiliments.
Her form had grown slightly thinner; her
cheeks had lost the pink glow of other
days. but there was in her large blue eyes
a sweet, sorrowful expression, which made
her more beautiful than when we left her
nearly four years SINCE
ut is time for him to Gomez She took
out her watch as she spoke. ut is after 8.
There he is now"
She smiled family, and, replacing her
watch, arose and walked toward the door.
1t opened softly, and Milton, now hand
the room.
"Oh, am so glad you have come, dearm
she exclaimed. 81 have been so lonesome
to-day
81 am sorry. How is your head now, Miss
Paulie?"
The youth laid aside his algebra and Latin
grammar as he spoke, and, going up to her
side, wound his arm around her shoulders
in his old impulsive way.
iSfTho in from which GIL ffarincr tbiS
morning has entirely disappeared, 1 am
glad to say. There are tears in your eyes,
Milton What's the matter, dear"
'Oh, Miss Paulie, witnessed such sad
sight Just now! / saw boy no oder than
myself being led to the station house for
drunkennesSm
Poor boy" said Pauline "It was in
deed a sad sight. Milton, here is letter for
YOU" and she drew from her pocket a yell
low envelope in one corner of which was
printed ''Paine e. MaSsie, Attorneys at
Law, Columbus, Ga" 81 presume Virgil is
in Culpeper, as the letter is poStmarked
Rapidan Station"
"Then he is on his way to Richmondr
cried the boy, as he hastily broke the seal.
HE told me in his last letter that perhaps
he would be here at the commencement
But let me see what he has say and the
next moment he was absorbed in the con-
tents of the letter.
Eyes, brother is on his way to Richmond"
he exclaimed, presently 'He says he will
be here on the 10Th. Let's see. To-day is
the 18th, isn't its Then he will be here to-
morrow. Aren't you glad, Miss Paulie~
81 should like very much to see Virgil"
replied the young lady; but she manifested
no joy at the thought of meeting the man
she loved.
Brother SAYS the death of Mr. NORRIS
threw as deep gloom over him as the
death of papa did" continued Milton, land
had he known your father was dangerously
ill, he would have paid him visit"
''And does he say nothing about mem
asked the girl after pause.
"Oh, yes; he sends his love to you, and ex-
presses the deepest sympathy for you in
your last affection. Do you not want to read
the letterp
She replied in the negative.
"What does he say about your remaining
with me during the summerp
HE doesn't think he can let me stay.
However, he will settle that matter when he
comes. He says l might be willing to pass
three months of the year with him"
"He is right. He, too, is lonely, and /
ought not to have been so selfish as to ask
him to let you remain with me. But, oh,
Milton, it will be so lonesome-so cherries
without youW
'Cheer up. Miss Paulie," said the boy,
moved by the tears which had come into
her eyes while she was speaking Three
months will soon glide away, and then |
shall be with you again for nine months.
Oh, Miss Paulie, | wish you could love
brother He loves you dearly, and the rea
son he doesn't like to come to Richmond is
because be fears he might be unable to keep
silent on the subject of his love. He has
told me this dozens of times"
Pauline rarely ever spoke of Virgil, and
Milton believed, as his brother did, that she
loved one who did not return her affection
Late in the afternoon they rode out
to Hollywood. The cemetery was now an
inexpressibly dear spot to the former, and
thither she and Milton went almost every
afternoon.
After tying the horse to a tree in heroad
below, the youth assisted his companion to
ascend the hill, and as they entered the sec
ton he reverently took off his hat in honor
to the dead.
A costly and handsome monument, erect
ed by her husband soon after her death,
stood above the remains of Mrs. Morriss.
A monument of equal size and beauty
Pauline had just erected to the memory OF
her father.
Over Florine's remains was monument
of the rustic style, representing a pile of
roughlv-hewn stones, over which sculptured
ivy. ferns, and Gala lilies were running in
great profusion A cross of perhaps three
feet rose from the summit of the pile of
stones, and clinging to it was the figure of