The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, 1895-12-20


the adjective was we'll 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 past that had
brought to her glndness md then sor-
row, and that had taught her n 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
weariness. and did not receive sweet
consolation in return. Miss Enid's
great heart was ever open, ever ready
to condole with the bereaved, to smilo
SHsdensJ' toiler, to bring 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 a 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 twinine
beautiful wreaths for pillar and pulpit
-wreaths of holly and ivy and box,
and the vIcarnge children had 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
dariings, 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"
''We 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 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. And
Miss Enid thanked him before and,
stopping down to kiss the bonny lit
tie face, and assuring him that she
would like 1t very much, and would
Keep 1T always In memory of him.
That's right, the little boy said,
heartily. "'Tis quite the proper
thing 10 say, isn't it, Marjorie?"
And Marjorie and Angela nodded
assent as the nurse came to carry them
otf home to the vlcarage tea.
Miss Enid hat declined their en-
thusiasttc invitation to accompany
them something had sent her
thoughts back to the past with o sud
den rush OF memory, and the scene
around seemed strangely dreamlike
ana unreal. She fastened up the long
ends OF her wreath and put on her
CLOAK, aud then, before her flight was
noticed, she shipped away, out into
the darkness ana tho stiffness of the
wln'eT's evening. She wanted to be
alone, to think she had not had much
time to think lately, there was always
30 much 10 40; ana then she IA al been
glad o. 1t before, IOr the memories of
Christmas time were gcnCrn'iy sad
ones. But now sne lQnsci Tor quictude,
Tor the sympathy OF heI own thoughts
nnd oi the ureans Of tuut bitter sweet
pnst, the past that hal 50 strangely
affected all her lie.