Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-03-17
CHAPTER XIII.
LADY DARRELL's WILL.

Two years passed away, and Sir Vane ST.
Lawrence's circumstances were rapidly inn
proving; his letters were constant and cheer
Tul-ne spoke always OF the time when he
should come home and claim Pauline for his
wife. She only sighed as she read the hope
full words, for she had resolved that duty
should be her watchword while Lady Darrell
iived-even should that frail, feeble life last
for fifty years, she would never leave her.
There came to her chill doubts and fears,
dim vague forebodingS that she should never
see Vane again-that their last parting was
forever; not that She doubted him, but that
it seemed hopeI 5 to think he would wait
until her hair was gray, and the light Of her
youth had left her.
Never mind-she had done her duty; she
had siHned, but she had made the noblest
atonemcnt possible for her sin.
Two years had passed, and the summer
was drawing to q close. To those who loved
and tended her it seemed that Lady Dafrelps
life was closing with it. Even Lady Hamp-
ton had ceased to speak hopefully, and Oar
rell Court was gloomy with the shadow Of
the angel of death.
There came an evening when earth was
very lovely-when the gold of the setting
sun, the breath of the western wind, the
fountains, the song Of the birds, were all
beautiful beyond words to tell; and Lady
Darrell, who had lain watching the smiling
summer heavens, said:
Il should like once more to see the sun
set Pauline. should like to sit at the win
dow, and watch the moon rise"
$50 you SHALL" responded Pauline You
are fairy queen. You have but to wish,
and the wish is granted"
Lady Darrell smiled-no one ever made
her smile except Pauline; but the fulfllment
of the wish was not so easy after all. Lady
HamptOn'S fOrebodingS We're realized. Lady
Darrell might have recovered from her long,
serious illness but that her mothers com
plant, the deadly inheritance of cOnSump-
ton, had seized upon her, and was gradually
destroying her.
1t was no eaSy matter now to dress the
wasted figure; but Pauline seemed to have
the strength, the energy of twenty nurses.
She was always willing, always cheerful. al
ways ready; night and day seemed alike to
her; she would look at her hands, and say:
'Oh! Ehuor, wish I could give you one
half my straightforward my lifer'
do you? Pauline, if you could give me
half your life, would you do sop
''As willingly as l am now speaking to
you" she would answer.
They dressed the poor lady, whose delicate
beauty had faded like some summer flower.
She sat at the window in a soft nest Of cush-
ions which Pauline had prepared for her,
her wasted hands folded, her worn face
frightened with the summer sunshine. She
was very silent and thoughtful Tor some
time, and then Pauline, fearing that she was
dull, knelt in the fashion that was usual to
her at Lady Darrell's feet and held the
wasted hands in hers
what are you thinking about EIinor"'
Pauline asked Something as bright as the
sunshine?"
Lady Darrell smiled.
Il was inst fancying to myself that every
blossom of that white magnolia seemed like
finger reckoning me away" she said; land
was thinking also how full of mistakes life
=, 60 &C sc" plainly they can be seen wnen
we come to die
Pauline kissed the thin fingers Lady Oar.
rell went on.
II can see my own great mistake, Pauline.
| should not have married Sir Oswald. [
had no love for him-not the least in the
world; married him only for position and
fortune. | should have taken your warning,
and not have come between your uncle and
you. His resentment would have died away,
for am quite sure that in his heart he loved
you; he would have forgiven yo- and |
should have had a happier, longer life. That
was my mistakenly one great mistake. An
other was that had certain kind of doubt
about poor Aubrey. | cannot explain it; but
KNOW that doubted him even when