Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-05-02

my f"r.t:t3.,i, in the endeavor to recall how il | Was j a l had entered the room, and, with | out undressing, chosen the couch instead oi | the bt :,
 'H va been sleeping long?" asked. '1 do not know my dear" replied my wife "The opiate you gave me last night had such | an effect upon me that could scarcely have stirred till I opened my eyes half an hour ago"
 Then you have no recollection of my hav- ng come in, or at what timer" "Not the slightest, Richard.'' 'Nor have l." said I, pondering. ''When saw you sleeping on the couch,' , said my wife, tenderly, "my idea was that you would not come to bed for fear of dis turbing me-
 ''That may have been my motive for sleep ing here" said, still in wonder; "but it is strange that it should have gone clean out of my mind"
 "It has occurred before. Richard"
 "True; but this is q new phase of my wretched sleep-walking."
 "It is easily accounted for, love. Your mind has been unusually disturbed. Do not let 1t distress you"
 "And you have had a good night?"
 "A wonderful night; feel quite refreshed 1; and were 1t not for what is before me, should feel perfectly happy"
 Now, it is 8 singular fact that my mind was also a blank as to the danger which threat ened us. had no recollection, not only of what had passed between me and my uncle on the previous day, but even of his being in the house.
 "of what Is before you" said. "What do you mean7"
 ''Surely you have not forgotten the task I have set myself with your uncle3 shall suc- ceed, love-I shall succeed! The first sound heard this morning was the singing of the birds. That is nearly always so; but this morning their sweet notes had peculiarly joyful significance. Hope, hopo, hoper thoy sang. All will be we'll. Eunice will be happy. Your home is saved The cloud has passed away My heart sang the words in unison, and have given thanks to the Giver of all good"
 As she spt ke 1t all rushed back upon me, and my face grew dark.
 "And of all evil" I muttered.
 "My love, my dear love-" said my wife, sit- ting by my eide, and taking my hand, "ban- ish your gloomy thoughts, and hope as do. I shall soften his heart; feel, I know shall. In 8 few hours we shall be as we have ever been, and this little trouble will be dis pelled. We have magnifled 1t unreasonaby because of our fears. It Is not the way to meet trouble; 1t was foolish of us. Look at me, Richard"
 My eyes rested upon her face and form, Tho loveliness of youth seemed to have re- turned to her. Her eyes were radiant, there was smile upon her lips, a bright and natural color in her face. There was q change also in her attire; she had taken un- usual pains with it. There were roses at her breast, and some loose roses. the choicest in our garden, were in a glass upon the table.
 "They are for your uncle," she said, softly. "I am going to win his heart as won yours."
 Even these tender words did not mitigate the terrible oppression which weighed me down. The effect which her sweetness and newborn beauty had upon me was to make the near future all the more unbeara- ble. She failed to convince me that, within a few short hours, we should not be thrown upon the world, without home.
 ''Mammap It was Eunice's voice, out side.
 Come in, dear child," called my wife, "She is happy and hopeful Richard. I have been talking to her quite wisely"
 elf love be wisdom, thought, as Eunice entered the room, cit would count for much. Btt love must work a miracle in stony heart before happiness can be restored to me and mine."
 Kiss the clouds away from your fathers face, my child," said my wife, land make him smile again"
 To be continued.