River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1892-06-16
BROKEN HEARTS.
Tho Pathetic Romance of an Old
Cathedral

u
| gardens, shall never see again. But
the great charm to my young fancy was
the solemn old cathedral and the cool,
1 silent courts of houses that clustered
round it, Zpiies dreamys peaceful life
enchanted me. i thought that could
/ live forever among the dim, aisles of
the grand old church and the shady
/ gardens of the handsome houses.
This is a court of peace" said
surely no shadow of discontent or
sorrow can ever come within it."
But this | said in my haste and my
ignorance. 1.-THE 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. IlSnew the yes
! per service was over. ! knew this was
not the organists playing, and my in
terest and curiosity triumphed over my
| fear, and led me to take the keys of the
vestry, WHICH were at my command
and satisfy myself. No human cry of
agony was ever more ineligible.
| diSined at 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.:
at is the poor old dean. I am glad
he has this consolation. DO not disturb
him.
A few days afterward, as we were
walking up the court, we met the dean.
He 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 a 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 a couch drawn
close to the open window looking into
garden thick With green shade, and
bright with many a sweet flower whose
name is now forgotten. gazed on her
with admiration. / do not think 1t ever
entered my mind TO pity her. Preserved
that feeling for the gray misery of her
father, and for the hopeless, resentfuI-
looking distress | saw i'm the face and
manner of a handsome man whom
took 10 be her brother. There was,
however, some element in the sorrow
of THAI dying room that did not under
stand shen, though soon afterward,
when knew Mary ILarlCwe's history,
it was clear enough to me.
She was the only child of her father,
who had received her in exchange for
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 a
sweet and lovely girlhood.
When about seventeen years of age.
her cousin, Bernard Iarlowe, was sent
to her fathers care, while he prepared
for taking orders. The young man was
not rich, and was never likely to have
any inheritance bit 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 himself
richer in that love than the bishop in
his see, or the king in his crown.
The dean was not so wrapped up in
spiritual matters as to be oblivious of
what was transpiring under his own
roof, yet he made no remonstrance; so,
though there was no positive engage
ment. Bernard and Mary Harlowe con-
sidered themselves as one heart and one
soul for time and for eternity.
One afternoon the sunny stiffness of
the court was broken by the galloping
of horses and the rattle of a carriage.
IL stopped at the deans door, and
Bernard recognized young earl, ia
nous for his wealth and church patron
age. who owned a magnificent seat
about three miles distant.
There is some dispute between my
lord bishop and the EARL he said to
Mary. II wonder how the dean will
manage between them?"
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 flower
fairer than all its mates, they did not
even speculate on the length of his
visit or watch for his departure 1t
was, therefore, with some surprise they
saw him and the dean come slowly
walking down the main avenue to-
gether.
Mary would have escaped the inter
view by taking private walk TO the
house, but Bernard, with some strange
instinct of being on the defensive, drew
her arm through his and awaited their
approach. The dean seemed annoyed
at the attitude. He introduced his
daughter and his nephew, and then
babe Mary go to prepare for dinner
which Earl Grey" he added, bowling,
will do me the honor to eat with me. "
The young nobleman languidly as
scented, following Mary with his eyes
until She was hidden from view by the
shrubbery. Surely, flowing and hating
come by nature" for ere the earl had
spoken, Bernard hated him, and long
before the night was over he fancied he
had good cause to do so.
He was angry at Mary for looking so
beautiful; he was angry at the earl for
looking at her beauty. He thought his
uncle disgustingly subservient to the
young mans rank; he thought Mary
unusually cool to him. All night long
he was his own tormentor. and this was
but the beginning of sorrows.
The earl, charmed with Mary's fresh
young beauty. so different from the
clever. intriguing women with whom he
had danced and trified away all the last
season, fancied himself deeply in love
with the simple, innocent girl He
came again and again. at first inventing
all sorts of excuses, finally without any
excuse at all.
1t required, indeed, small persuasion
10 obtain the deans full permission to
WOO his daughter. Then stormy scenes
ensued; uncle and nephew came to bit
terest strife, while Mary's defense of
Bernard only brought on bar such an