Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1892-06-16
BROKEN HEARTS,
Isls Pathetic Romance OF an Old
Cathedral

quaint, old houses, rooted with bright
red tiles, such green meadows and vel
,ow corniields, such great over-shadow-
ing trees, and such sweet old-fashioned
gardens, shall never see again. But
the great charm to my young fancy was
the solemn old cathedral and the cool.
silent courts of houses that clustered
round it The dreamy, peaceful life
enchanted me. | thought that could
i've forever among the dim aisles of
the grand old church and the shady
gardens OF the handsome houses.
"This is n court of peace" ] said.
Surely no shadow of discomfort or
sorrow can ever come within it,"
But this ! said in my haste and nv
ignorance. Atthe end of the first week
OF my visit, as was wandering in my
friends garden, which touched the
graveyard of the cathedral, heard the
widest strangest, most sorrowful
music coming from it. knew the YES
per service was over. / knew this was
not the organist's playing, and my in
terest and curiosity triumphed over my
fear, and led me to take the keys of the
yestry, which were at my command,
and satisfy myself. No human cry of
agony was ever more ineligible. /
OWNED ut once that some poor, break
ing heart was pouring out itself into
the Divine ear, which understands all
speech and language, and so | stole
away again, ashamed and sorry for my
intrusion.
Frequently, after this-sometimes
early in the morning, sometimes deep
in the gloaming-I heard the same
musician. At last spoke to the friend
with whom was staying. She looked
troubled as she answered.:
ut is the poor old dean. | am glad
he has this consolation. Do not disturb
him."
A few days afterward, MS we were
walking up the court, we met the dean.
lie begged my friend to go into his
house and see his daughter Mary, and
then | soon understood what mighty
grief it was which had struck the key
note of his passionate, pleading prayer.
She was dying; no one but parent
could have doubted it for one minute.
The earnest of eternity was in her eyes,
which looked as if they had seen some
vision that had forever separated her
from time. She lay upon couch drawn
close to the open window looking into
garden thick with green shade, and
bright with many sweet flower whose
name is now forgotten. gazed ON her
with admiration. / do not think it ever
entered my mind to pity her. Preserved
that feeling for the gray misery of hcr
father, and for the hopeless, rcsentfut-
looking distress I saw in the face and
manner of handsome man whom
took to be her brother. There was
however, some element in the sorrow
of that dying room that did not under.
stand then, though soon afterward,
when know Mary Harlowe's history
it was clear enough to me.
She was the only child Of her father
who had received her in exchange fol
his young wife's life. Among the silent
rooms of the great house, and in the
pleasant old gardens belonging to the
church property, she had grown up to q
sweet and lovely girlhood.
When about seventeen years of age
her cousin, Bernard Harlowe, was sent
to her fathers care, while he prepared
for taking orders. The young man was
not rich, and was never1ikely to have
any inheritance but the handsome per
son, the clear head and the warm heart
nature had given him. But Mary loved
him almost from the first day of his ar
rival, and Bernard thought himseli
richer in that love than the bishop il
his see,. or the king in his crown.
The dean was not SO wrapped up II
spiritual matters as to be oblivious o.
what was transpiring under his owr
roof, yet he made no remonstrance; SO
though there was no positive engage
mcnt, Bernard and Mary Harlowe con
sidcred themselves as one heart and one
soul for time and for eternity.
One afternoon the sunny stiffness o.
the court was broken by the gallopinG
of horses and the rattle of carriage
II stopped at the deans door, ant
Bernard recognized young earl, ia
nous for his wealth and church patron
age. who owned magnificent seal
about three miles distant.
"Thcre is some dispute between my
lord bishop and the earl" he said tt
Mary. 81 wonder how the dean vii
manage between themP
But the earl's visit seemed to them
matter of the very smallest Importance
Wandering under the trees, pulling ripe
berries, or idly gathering some Hover
fairer than all it's mates, they did moi
even speculate on the length OF hl'
visit or watch for his departure. II
was. therefore, with some surprise they
saw him and the dean come slowly
walking down the main avenue to-
gcther. -.
Mary would have escaped the inter
view bv taking private walk to tht
house. but Bernard, with some strange
instinct of being on the defensive, drew
her arm through his and awaited theil
onnroach The dean seemed annoyed
nt the attitude. He introduced hi
dauphter and his nephew, and theI
bode Mary "go to prepare for dinner
which Earl Grey" he added, bowling
,,y;ll do me the honor to eat with me.
The young nobleman languidly as
sented. following Mary with his eyes
nntil she was hidden from view by the
sbrubbery. Surely, 'loving and hating
sn,,e bv nature" for ere the carl hat
spoken, Bernard hated him, and ionf
before the night was over he fancied he
b.d rood cause to doso.
He was angry at Mary for looking $
,oaptiful; he was angry at the earl io'
,ool,inq at her beauty. lie thought M
rrcle disgustingly subservient to tn'
aorc mans rank; he thought Mary
unusually yu cool to him. All night ioni
ss was hit own tormentor, and tins wa'
~ hrt the beginning OF sorrows. -. /,
0rr The earl. charmed with Mary's fresf
I..a,,+v so different from tht