The Dickinson press., 1892-01-16

l tnlnK Snch treason OF my Mark! linen IN
October my mother died, and after that the
Indian mail brought me no more news OF
Mark-not u single line.
My mother never knew that a great cloud
had ov~erShadowed me. She did not know
that my hear. was breaking because l had
no news from Mark.
Let me tell it quickly. My dear mother
was buried, and | was alone i'll the world,
save for my lover SO far away-alone, save
for him; and, when July OF the next year
should come, the four years would be end.
ed, and he would return.
l thought deeply over my plans. 1t
seemed useless nov to leave the cottage: it
was best for me to remain there until Mark
came home again. Onr old and faithful
protection Tor me. l had money enough
for II year., and l had my little income of
twenty pounds per annum also. had
thought once OF going away; but whittier
should l go-what could / do? And l
must be here when Mark returned.
When Christmas came, l was still wait
ing. in dry-eyed, mute anguish, for the
letter that l was never to receive. l WON
dered often hat the golden hair of which
my lover had been so proud hadnot turned
gray. | was helpless in my great grief. l
wrote to Mark. l told him that my
mother was dead, ana that | was alone in
the cottage. waiting for him-that neither
Ills SllCIlCC liz us dpSStlSc SIlooN IL
faith. He might he i'll; an accident
might have happened to himA
anything, everything would l l believe, ex-
ccpt that he had forgotten me. l never
thought of that; it never occurred to me as
a solution OF the mystery of his silence.
There was no one to whom l could appeal
Tor news of Mark. HIS father was dead;
the rector of Gracedieu had not heard from
him for many months; the lawyers who
had forwarded the money realized by the
sale ofh fathers property had not received
any communication from him since he had
sent the formal receipt for it. There was
no IL i'll Gracedieu who knew his present
Gracedieu. When the doctor had brought
his practice there, Mark was at school.
He had made few acquaintance II none
OF these had kept upa correspondence with
him since he had left for India.
There was nothing to be done but to
wait in patience as best l could. Every
morning hope revived in my heart, every
praying wildly to Heaven that l might
hear from Mark that day; every night l lay
down to sleep with bitter tears because a
letter had not come. Every morning, week
after week, month after month, l went up
to the gate to meet the postman. He never
had anything for me. He knew l wanted
an Indian letter, and he would look at me
Niiii u ltSouS man VI ~ u ~ lIASS
on: But IL morning, when the snow lay
upon the ground and the bells were Chin
ing, the postman came. He babe me no
CHEEKY, Good morning" as he placed the
letter in my hands ard hastened away. He
knew what had betallen me. Inside the
envelope was my last letter to India, re-
turned to me through the Dead Letter
Office, and on it was written in all official
hand, "Gone away-left no address,"
CHAPTER Nv.
The words were ever before me in letters
of tire-''Gone away-lett no address,"
Both by night and by day they beatupon my
brain. Christmas passed; bright lovely
spring. was coming. What was I to do?
No letter, no prayer from me could reach
him. In all the wide world 1 did not
know where to look for him, where to send
to him. He seemed as lost to me as though
he had gone into another sphere.
What could 1 do? In the July OF this
year he was to come home and marry me;
/ Was waiting lor him. l had no other
which l could look forward. Where was
henry handsome brave young lover, who
loved me so dearly and had worshiped me
so entirely. Was lie living or dead? Hope,
health, strength, everything failed me
except nv faith; that was undimmed and
ntoucncd. ~ lie was lvinS III, uLaole TO
write. l ! knew he was thinking of me, long
ing for me: if lie had been suddenly sent to
some distant place on business, from which
perhaps he was unable to send news to me,
he would be miserable. as ] was. Even if
he was lying dead in the depths of the sea,
his last thought had been mine. Every
hour ofthe day and nightthis II ques-
were times when the impulse was strong
upon me to go into the wide world and
search for him. Then faith ndpatience
came to my aid. They said, "Wait here
for him. He will come with the lilies and
roses; wait in hope and patience"
The spring came and went. 1 avoided
looking At the Ii acs. Their perfume filled
the air-I could not help breathing it-but
I-ayoided looking at them. Ny heart was
sick, half dead with pain, and the sight of
them would almost have killed me. Then
June came with its roses. My little store
OF money was all gone, and knew that l
could not remain many weeks longer at
the cottage. Mark would come in July, if
he were living; and fine did not come, I
should know that he was dead. So, i'll
desolation and anguish OF heart, 1 counted
mirror; 1 was so afraid that my hair had
grown gray. The color had left my face,
the light had died ron my eyes; but July
was coming.
All me, can 1 ever forget the slow torture
of that month"; Every day went to the
group OF trees where We had
IRs sFfea;o One to by va' one as the ! sn 4 pf Ssgs
went by, and then l felt sure that he was
dead. He would have come to me had he
been Lying. My handsome, brave, trne
young lover was dead.
1 would only pray to Heaven with weep
ing eyes that | might die too. During
those long months Of suspense l had lived
through the suffering ola lifetime.
that part of my life was ended. l put on
life had Set; 1 would mourn for Mark as
wives sorrow for Il beloved husband. / new
er thought of another lover, or Of future
comfort or hope, or happiness. Wherever
he Law cad, there my heart was buried
ME, and. 1 believed. saved me from goina
mad. l sold all my furniture and books,
everything 1 possessed: l gave literally to
Dorothy, and babe farewell to my lovely
old home. l was twenty-one when l went
to London to seek my fortune: The first
post l obtained was that Of teacher OF Eng.
fish in a boarding-school in France. l did
not like it, and through the influence O.
n Of the elder pupils l obtained
all engagement in E~ngland-not as
SoVernesS TINS time, but as companion
to Lady Yorke, who lived at a grand
old place calledWestwood, in Kent. 1 was
glad enough to return to England. Before
going to Westwood, l went to Gracedic,l,
with perhaps a tolorn hope that l might
hear some news of Mark-ot how he had
died.
L went the old round-from the rector to
the lawyer, and from him to Marks ac-
quaintances. No one had heard one word.
He was dead-Mark, my darling-dead,
and l was alone. There was but one thing
before me-to live my life and pray that 1
might join him in heaven.
The phase of feeling that came to me
was a strange one. There were times
when it seemed to me as if 1 hardly lived
in this world. 1 could see very often that
people looked at me as though they did
not quite understand me. How could
they, when my heart and my senses were
always with Mark IN another world?
1t was whispered from one to another
that my lover was dead; n then to those
who cared most for me there came q CLEAN
of pity for one who had no earthly
ties.
1t was in the month of July that 1 went
to ,Westwood, Lady Yorke was very
that the n complaint she SUI
l IL - 49, -