The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1894-08-20

Rita was as well as usual, only very
ired and weak. The letter brought a
Tiny ray of sunlight into his lonely
heart, and gave him courage for the
future
Many weeks went by, and at last
letters ceased to come. One night, in
the silence and darkness of his lonely
chamber, Mark Thornton awoke from
! troubled dream. A dream in which
he had seen his loved one lying cold
and dead before him-her blue eyes
closed forever, the white hands folded.
He awolze with a nervous start, to
find the corner of the room opposite
his bed, brightly Illuminated With q
stified exclamation he started up, and
there before him family outlined
against the wall, a figure was dimly
visible It looked like the figure Of a
woman; and as he sat with dilated
eyes taste ned upon the apparent APP
partition, he was startled by the sound
of a voice "a low, quivering voice,
signing upon the silence, like the wall
of a wind-harp:
mark. it said in trerpu1ous accents;
my beloved. I have come back to
you'll"
And there in that strange, weird
light, he caught glimpse of face:
pale, wan face; with an unearthly
light upon it, and great, sad blue eyes,
and a cloud of sunny hair streaming
over graceful shoulders The face Of
Marguerite Clyde-the love of his life
Trembling. agonized, he sprang to
his feet, and rushed to the corner Of
the room where the figure had seemed
to be. But it was gOne-no trace of
any living creature.
His window stood open; he went
over to st and leaned upon the sill,
and let the cool night breezes fan his
troubled brow She was dead. Rita
his Rita-he felt certain of it. She
was dead and her freed spirit had
come to him as she had so
often declared that she would come
to look upon his face once more Stun
ned, paralyzed with intense suffering,
Mark Thornton sank upon his knees
before the open window and prayed
for help and comfort. He was weak
and nervous, and to his troubled heart
the vision appeared so real-the sound
of her voice SO palpable - that he
could not shut out from his heart the
conviction that the woman he loved
was no more.
All night he walked the floor Of his
room. his head bowed. his heart bleed
L
cruel. He had worked and striven
bravely. At home all was ready at
last for his darling; and now, right in
the moment of his victory when for
tune had smiled upon him, and all the
world seemed fair and cloudless, she
must die.
In vain did he reason with the
strange superstitious fancy. 1t had
taken root in his mind, and added to
the vague uneasiness was a more tan
gible trouble.
He had not received a letter from
Marguerite in many days. II must be
true, then, she was dead; and-oh,
heaven. how could he ever learn to
live without her?
Morning dawned upon as terrible
night as man ever passed through
With the morning came an urgent
summons to another city, a business
SUMMONS. He left on the first train,
and ten days elapsed before his re-
turn home All this time he suf-
fered ense1y-acutely.
She was dead; he was positive of it.
The thought plunged his soul into the
blaclness Of despair
He returned home at last, and, once
in his office, the first object that
greeted him was a cablegram- He
dared not open this heart failed
him-his hand shook Pale and trem-
bling he stood holding the fatal docu-
ment in his hand, when there was
rap at the office door. His lips moved,
but no sound escaped them; the knob
turned, the door opened
Ole glanced up and a wild cry
escaped him Was he mad2 There,
before him, standing upon the TIRES
hold framed in by the open door, was
Marguerite-his MargueriteI Upon
her cheeks the faint tinge Of return
ing health; the pallOr and languor
gone; in short, no longer an invalid,
but perfectly restored
Words cannot portray that meet
ing. The cablegram. which had been
waiting for him for ten days, had
announced her intention of sailing
upon the steamer Granada, returning
home, with restored hea1th-home to
her loved one.
And from that day to this, Mark
Thornton maintains a discreet silence
whenever the subject of spiritual
manifesto tlons is mentioned He is
convinced that they are all optical
receptions. and delusions. and snares.