Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-09-11

Who AcbA OS OA ELDSS V AO1C NCu1 OASo hieseA been about that time laid to rest by set ting it abroad that this girl had been found to be alive, and by the means so hated, and let all those who wept in sorrow hasten to se0 if it was a lost darling who was so miraculously restored? No, m tell the truth, had advice of wiser heads than mine. l dared not do it: 1t would have been an inhuman test of many for the sake of one. To her relatives this girl was dead; 90 let them weep that the rest of the world might not suffer. She was safe with us. My mother has been hers and have been a brother to her. resign her to you now, and God help your
 ''Is there any hope of her recovery"
 ''None, absolutely none," was the re- ply, which struck me like blow. "The most skillful doctors can give us none. Had my father lived it would have been different, but the death that made her my sister buried in the sea his secret, which might have been the means of restoring her lost senses. Fate is cruel"
 Yes, how bitterly echoed those words. How cruel indeed had it been to me! My search was at end. l had found Madeline, but what Madeline! As fair as the one I had lost to outward view. but oh, how changed wfthini
 The deIusdon under which she labored was to those who did not know alI-ths strRngest and most terribls-to me 1t was perfectly applicable I alone understood her rambling talk every word of which was a dagger in my heart, for she spoke of me-nOt by name. She never by one word betrayed one link of her past life. by which to unite 1t to the present But 1 always on her ltpa why that ''he" was never uttered without a shud- der. I knew why 1t was her strongest will that she should wear nothing but white-not even the greatest persuasion could make her don one scrap of color. Nay, moro than once to try and combat the sad delus4on, had myself tied some colored ribbon tn her hair and hidden her wear it; but she had torn it of and cast it from heE preferring her pure white gar meRt because it was the double emblem of her bridal robes and the garment of death, stamping the ribbon beneath her feet in a passionate fury, and rending 1t with her banda knew. too, why, most weird fancy of all she had chosen for her playthtnR, that ghastfy skull which she had found among the dooto1's relics What a strange sight it was to see her turning it over and over in her lap as she crouched in a corner, gazing at 1t wonder inRly as she Croned some mad ditty to herself over and over again, hugging it to her. and speaking to 1t as though it un- derstood her babhiing, pressing 1t to her checks and asking those around her If she were growing like 1t. She had been dead so long she was afraid she was losing her beauty; but she would say that would not matter-''he will not love me then; per haps he win set me free and my love, who loves me always" And sonetfmeT in her widest mood, holding 1t aloft ovei her head laughing Rayly and tossing ts away from her in glee. only to clasp it once more in her arms and begin again thn rN1N NIA den of it's flowers and weave them into long wreaths and crosses and such-liBe emhlems saying II like them bet ter than jewels--they live, you know; and love things that live because l am dead. It is not nice to die, for it Is cold and dark, but it is beautiful to live. l." in 6 whisper and nod of the head-"I shall live some day. Yes, when he comes and wakes me, when my love comes" Then she would lie down upon her couch, arrange all the flowers around her, close her eyes, and fold her hands over her breast, and so remain for hours Qt was so she always sIeptl until wearily she would rouse herself and weep bitterly because her love did not come.
 Her loveI How often have I been at her side and called her by name to wake? But no, my voice had no power to break the bars of memory and set her free.
 There, too, was 8 churchyard near and here, in spite of all our efforts, she would roam, one solitary living soul amidst the sleeping dead. Never did 8 funeral turn in at the gate but she would join in the sad procession until the village folk looked almost superstitiously for her coming. ''It's wild she may be, but she speaks the truth, the minister says" they said.
 So, time after time, the fairy figure in It's white robe, recalling her for whom they wept would stand beside some open grave lDse a bright light amidst many shadows, listening wfsh calm smile to the dread words of tho burial service '+dust to dustr" And when all was ended she would steal to sone one who wept bitterly, and say in her low, sweet voice, aS she pointed to the grave Don't Ory, don't ory-Ehe is not dead, she will awake again some day. am dead but l shall wake, and 90 will she." And when some one would put her on one side and say, She is dead. nothing can wake her now," she would fling her hands above her head and laugh that strange laugh of hers as she turned and fled, "You do nos know what Ikn0W-aA, you AxD silly.
 Only . few of ths village folks under stoOd WAat tho minister ne0At when ho said, "Brethren, had you but the truth o1 that poor mad girls saying in your hearts you would not be what you are now, far less to be pitied for your want of sense than she is"
 Another strange fancy of Madoline's was her auttpathy to music, Ny harp, with which had never parted s1l these years, soon after my arrival was given place of honour in the drawing room of my new home, but it's cover was rarely removed, for no sooner did 1. or Indeed any one, begin to play on this or any other instrument than the poor mad girl would place her fingers to her ears, and rock herself to and fro as though ir pain, moaning and sometimes crying bitterly. She who had once been the nxse to be at nay side whom l was bhaF engaged, now would race from taae room and htde her self as far away from the sound as possible. When found this, rather than drive her | from my side, would only indulge in my ! passion for music when she was where it l could not reach and cause her pain
 This then, was the Madeline had found. I sometimes could almost find it in my heart to wish she were lost to me tor ever. Suspense even was better than ! this daily agony. 1 tried to go away but