Los Angeles herald., 1892-04-10

why, ulOn Know. She was not really
beautiful-1ny marion was much more
brilliant-but there was something
about her better than beauty.
The gay company, laughing and jok-
ing, and bantering each other in re-
! gard to their fear, followed me in. The
lady in blue walked quietly by my side,
saying very little, barely replying to the
lively sallies of her companions-per-
haps she thought it i'll timed mirth; I
don't know.
We had been all the rounds and had
returned to the reception room, next to
the drying room, at one end of the main
building. This apartment overhung the
pond, from whence came our supply of
water, the basin of which was formed Of
a large dark gorge in the hollow Of the
wooded hills. There was large swing
ing door opening from the room directly
over the pond for the convenience of
casting out rubbish, and this door l
threw open for the visitors to obtain a
view of the prospect beyond. They soon
tired of this, all but the lady in blue, who
still stood looking out over the dreary
scene, lighted by the departing rays of
the lurid sun.
Suddenly heard low, ominous hiss
from the adjoining apartment, a sound
which onceAeard is always remembered;
my blood turned to ice in my veins.
recognized my fate-in another Sec
ond's time we should be in eternity.
snatched the woman by my side and
plunged through the gaping doorway.
simultaneously a deafening roar burst
upon my head-a crash, as if the globe
was rent-ten thousand cannons were
discharged in my ears-the blood flowed
from my eyes and nose-the air was
black with missiles, which reached the
water only q little later than we did.
Down, down we went, it seemed, to an
inter1ninable depth, but that plunge
saved us.
When we came up everything was
still. A deathly silence had fallen on
all nature-the place reeked with a
suffocating smoke, rolling up from the
ruins, dumb as the vapor Of death.
/ swan to the shore with my COM
panion and supported her up the bank.
She was not unconscious. Her dress
was drenched with blood. I lifted my
arm to seek the wound, and saw that
the crimson tide flowed not from her
viens, but from the mutilated stump
where once belonged my own right hand.
1t had been blown off.
| l went home as one in a walking
dream. remember very little of it ex-
cept that the lady in blue was with me,
that she talked soothingly to mo in a
sweet voice, and that afterward, when l
suffered untold agonies from some sharp
instrument, she stood by me with words
of gentle rest and peace; after that, all
was blank.
There was little snow on the hills
that could see from the window.
When awoke to consciousness spoke
my first thought, "Where is Marion?'
Mother tried to put me off with an
evasive answer, but l would know the
whole truth. She told it to me with
great reluctance. Marion had not been
to see me since the day of the accident,
and then at the sight of me she uttered
shrek Of horror and fled from the
room.
"But has she sent no message?"
"There is note, but you must not
read it till you are better. You have
been eight weeks delirious, and the ex-
citement may be fatal"
"Give me the letter." said, with all
my stern self will in my voice. eff not,
will get up and seek it myself"
She brought it to me, the delicate,
rose perfumed thing, no more heartless
than she who dictated it. 1t was ele-
gantly got up altogether.
Miss Ware sympathized with me
deeply-hoped and trusted I would be
restored to health, etc., and ended in
releasing nae from my engagement.
She prayed might be granted resigna-
ton, and closed in saying she was my
most sincere and attached friend.
crushed this scroll in my hand. I
would have ground it to powder-anni-
hilated its very dust from the face of
the earth if i could. I didn't mean to
curse Marion Ware, but am not sure
that I did. It would not be strange.
Every day there was fresh bouquet
of hothouse flowers on the little stand
by the bedside. After awhile I began
to feel curious about them. I asked my
mother where they came from.
"Miss Gaylord sent them"
"Miss Gaylord? I know no such per-
son."
"The young Lady you saved from the
explosion with you. She is Miss Adele
Gaylord, of Trenton, and to her you owe
an everlasting debt of gratitude, Ed
ward. often think she saved your life,
for when you rawed in delirium and
would have torn off the bandages from
your head when the surgeon had tre-
panned your wound, she alone had the
power to quiet you. Why, when you
were at the worst she stood over you
three days and nights without sleeping,
newer complaining, never getting out Of
patience with your moods. She is an
angelw
Miss Gaylord called in several times
during the next three weeks. How
beautiful she was to me now.
By the LIST of December I was able to
cit up most of the time and go out some.
One clear starlight night my mother
left me alone for the first time during
my illness; she and my little sister Efie
went to a Sabbath school concert in the
village. I frightened the fire ON the
hearth, drew up great armchair and
sat down tO g. or1iet hOur of DREAMING