The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-05-01
[AIL RIGHTS RESERVED,


he was almost the last man in the world
| from whom this supers.itious kind OF bod
ing might have been expected, but then OF
course here was a romantic soothing IN tho
reflection that it was his love for her which
! had so altered him, and that his sense of
her value inspired him with such fear Of
losing her.
Ellice for years past had been accus-
toned to come and go without ceremony in
| Mrs. RedWood's house, and her engagement
to George made but slight difference. She
stayed away sometimes from shyness when
| she would otherwise have gone; but 10 her
rarer visits now she went in and out without
| announcement or Formally, as she had been
used TO do from a time which looked to her
| young fancy immemorial.
! On a July afternoon, when the little
town seemed to sleep and bask in the bread
sunlight, Ellice walked through the gate
way into Mrs. Red woods garden. The air
was heavy and almost sickly with the
bresthless perfume of the tea roses, the
| jessamne and the southernwood. The
| house was SILENT and with its blinds drawn
against the sun looked tenantless. A fore~
| bodIng OF disaster, which came she knew
not why, and passed she knew not where
fore touched her like breath and van
ished. She walked round to the other side
| of the house, ana came upon the little lawn,
! whose triple-pile velvet gave no answer to
| her footsteps. There was a trelliseG porch
with ivy and Virginia creeper trailing over
| 1t, setting French windows in a frame Of
| green. Here and there a white star jessa-
| mine glimmered in the thick growing
! foliage, aud Ellice had paused to pluck
! blossom or two, when the sound Of subdued
weeping reached her ears She darte1 into
the room at once, and there sat Mrs Red
wood alone, and crying bitterly, but restrain
edly, with her handkerchief to her eyes.
Mamma, DEAR" cried Ellice, kneeling
! beside her and twlni1g her arms about her
waist. "What is the matter with you"
Nothing, DEAR Mrs. Redwood answered.
Nothing. | am very foolish; shall be
! better directly"
NO. Ellice protested, sit is something,
and something very serious. You are not
one of those people who cry for nothing"
The simple truth was that the widow had
| been thinking of the long-vanished
! George, and had been tormenting herself
with thoughts of faithlessne,s to him. until
| her tears could be controlled no longer
| That her own life lay before her stale,
profitless, and even painful, mattered little.
| The harvest she desired to reap was not her
! own. If her sons granary be full what
| could her own poverty matter to anybody.
| But the vanished George. lost to everybody
! else in the world, and almost forgotten, was
| still alive to her, and the loving sacri lege
| she threatened wounded that dear idol, so
that she could hardly bear to look on her
! handiwork. She felt that all this was hyper.
sensitive and foolish, but that gave her no
escape FRONT it.
| Ellice cooed sympathetic inquiry in her
ear-sympathy with just a soupcOn of
curiosity in 1t, after the manner Of women
and when she had controlled herself a lit
tie, Mrs. Redwood answered:
az am not quite we'll to-day, my dear,
and George will be leaving me very soon."
"Only for year, mamma, DEAR" said
Ellice.
"Only a year from you" the widow an
swered, but he goes away from me this
time for good and all"
Don't say that, mamma" the girl be
sought her. "You don't think l shall ever
come between you"
"You can't help that Mrs. Redwood an
swered, with a fearful smile.
And women are so made, even good
women, that they can change the venue of
an emotion and still retain the sentiment.
| The best of them has this odd faculty, and
it is one Of the most dangerous foiblss of
the worst. Mrs. Redwood had cried in soil
tude for the reasons already given. But the
girl was not TO kGow that, and the widow
wept in company for reason discovered on
the spur of the moment absolutely novel,
yet quite real, il not as poignant as the
first. These receptions in women are not
immoral. The man who practieed them
| WOulu DcCOulc COutcLlpblpict OuL III Tue
woman they are not merely natural, but
are not to be escaped from. Nobody
has a right to review them from the mascu-
line standpoint.
81 can't help coming in between you and
George, mammap Ellice asked, solicitously.
81 hope you don't think that; hope you
don't mean ii"
My dear )" returned the widow, drying
her eyes as she spoke. That's in the
course of nature and you mustn't think that
| complain Of it. But when son marries,
his mother loses him. It's written So Ellice
He shall leave father and mother, and
cleave unto his wife hope he'll make you
happy and that you will make him happy
and if that's the case.pm sure l shall have
nothing to cry for"
She tried to smile again with better result
that at first, and by and by with the self
sacrificing Discrimination OF her sex, pre-
tended to be quite herself, and to treat her
cares as mere result OF nervous depres-
sion. Ellice protested to accept the state
ment but thought in her Utmost heart that
there was something more serious.
The discovery OF the fact that she was in
trouble set Mrs. Redwood on her guard,
aud especially In Georges presence, she was
careful to put bright face on things. But
Elhce had communicated her fears to
George, and he had grown anxlously watch
, full Iu was so possible for her to show a
placid and even smiling countenance
throughout the day, aud in spite of his
watchfulness his mother deceived him for q
time, but the traces Of the silent tears she
shed at night began in a while to be evident
in the day time, and bis affection gave him
penetration enough to see that she had some
serious trouble.
Dom's outburst, extravaganza as 1t had
seemed, had made an impression upon him,
and there we're times when he felt as if that
| 4 nj pf which thu litfla oh
man had spoken might exist in reality. He
began to ask himself now, if his mother
could possibly be aware Of it, and if that
were the care Of the anxiety which so evil
IDENTIFY eighed upon her. 1t was not easy
to question her on that theme, and more
than once. the inquiry, which had trembled
on his lips was allowed TO remain un-
spoken.
He had had no intercourse with Dom for
a fortnight, and was resolute to hold nc
further parley with him, but this matter was
{ not left entirely in his own hands. He was
strolllng home after an interview with
Ellice. recalling as he sauntered through the
scented summer dusk, every word. and
look, and gesture of his sweetheart wher
the Frenchman suddenly confronted him
He had been sitting solitary on stile by the
wayside, and George thought it not unlikely
that he had been waited for. He made {
movement to evade his old companion, but
, Dom would not be forbidden and laid de-
tanning hand upon his arm.
, My dear young friend" said Dom, in G
= voice of some emotion, ''you have though