Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1895-12-20

the adjective was well applied, so
sweet was her smile, and so tender and
gentle were the soft tones of her
voice. And she was not really old,
nothing like the conventional old
maid of story-book fame. She was
simply Miss Enid"-no longer very
young, but with a past that had
brought to her gladness and then sor-
row, and that had taught her life
long lesson of the tenderest, purest
sympathy in and with the smiles and
the tears of others. No one came to
Miss Enid for help and went away
comfortless; no one ever told her
some heartfelt story OF grief and
WEAKNESS, and did not receive sweet
consolation in return. Miss Ends
great heart was ever open, ever ready
to condole with the bereaved, to smile
hopefully upon the young and the
ardent toiler, to bring q message of
patience to the sick and the sorrowing
in fact, to minister to each and
every one as they needed her sweet
helpfulness. And yet-and yet Miss
Enid had known sorrow, the greatest
and the deepest sorrow that can come
into woman's life and blot out for
ever the sunshine from the pathway !
And she was thinking OF the past
tonight, this Christmas time, when
every one was happy in the society of
their dear ones, and when love and
JOY were the theme OF every hymn and
anthem that was sung in the great
church yonder, the church she had so
recently left. She had been twining
beautiful wreaths for pillar and pulpit
-wreaths of holly and ivy and box,
and the vlcarage children lad helped
her, pricking their small fingers with
the sharp holly leaves, and tying her
string into lnnumerable tangled knots.
Yet she loved them so much, the
darlings, that she was only too happy
to have them near her, to hear their
little bright voices, to see their rosy
faces, and to feel the soft touch of
their soft hands as they hung about
her trying so hard to help 'dear Miss
Enid"
ave love you so much, you know,
gray-eyed Angela had said, "that we
want to do all we can, and it isn't very
much, but we does our best.
And Bobby had broken in with an
account of the Christmas card that he
meant to send Miss Enid.-a very gor.
geous production from the village
shop, in the purchase OF which and
similar treasures the children's morn
ing had been happily spent. Anc
Miss Enid thanked HIM before and
stopping down to kiss the bonny lit
tie face, and assuring him that SIT
would like it very much, and would
keep it always in memory of him.
"lhat's right" the little boy said
heartily. "'Tis quite the proper
thing to say, isn't it, Mariorie?"
And Marjorie and Angela nodded
assent as the nurse came to carry then
Oft home to the vicarage tea.
Miss Enid had declined their en-
thusiastic invitation to ACCOMPANY
them-something had sent ne
thoughts back to the past with sud
den rush of memory, and the seen,
around seemed strangely dreamlikt
and unreal. She fastened up the lon!
ends of her wreath and put on he
cloak, and then, before her flight wa
noticed, she slipped away, out int
the darkness and the stiffness of tn
winters evening. She wanted to b
alone, to think she had not had mucl
time to think lately, there was Away
80 much to do and then she had bee
glad OF it before, for the memories O
Christmas time were generally sa
ones But now she longed for quietude
for the sympathy of her own thought
and OF the dreams of that bitter swee
past, the past that had so strangel,
affected oil her life.
And once in her cosy oak parlor, j
her own chair by the bright freside
she lay back with half closed eyes an
gave herself up, for brief time a
any rate. to the memory of the past
It was not very eventful past, u tie
all, that the chiIdren's talk of Christ
mas had brought back to her.
She was young then, that was all
and life was rose-tinted with healt
and happiness and-should she cor
Tess it, even to herself?-love Ye,
she believed that love had come t
her, as it comes once, and only ono
IN a lifetime, to every one. Aud We