Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1897-09-11

he seemed possessed of a beauty scarce
ly earthlike.
The noise of the people rising from
their seats as his voice died away re-
called me to the present, but it was with
an effort l reused myself. l reached
home feeling that while such living
word5 could reach my ear life could not
be barren.
l entered my fathers study, treading
softly lest ! should disturb the slumber
into which he seemed TO have fallen.
Drawing near, | softly laid my hand on
his. 1t was icy cold. | stopped TO kiss
his brow, but its marble whiteness re-
vealed to me the awful truth. The desc
lation which had lowered DER my spirit
all day had been no idle precursor Of Ill.
Death had entered my home and
snatched from me the n being left
me TO love. An awful calm fell upon
me. No tears came to relieve my burn
ing lids-not even when l heard the
duh thud which gave back 10 mother
earth its own
1t was then that Edward Fearing
came to comfort me. 1t was long ere
even his words penetrated the ou'eI
crust of rebellious discomfort; but ht
probed his way 50 s~killfully, SO tender
ly, that ere | knew it the healing waters
of comfort rushed in, and found theil
vent in outward tears.
] do not know when l learned . love
my teacher. Does one eve measure
the hour, the moment, when love en-
tiers their lives? Icould see by this pas
sion which awakened in me the mean
ing of true love and false. No world
~ glitter, no tickle allurements weTt
here. The life we must lead together
would De one devoted TO the Masters
service, but | felt nothing could bt
sacrifice | shared with him. had told
him all my past one afternoon, when he
had just left me, and the echo Of nj.
words still was ringing in my ear, when
an impatient tread across the hall, &
shadow Garkened the door Of the room
il which | sat.
/ looked up, wondering if Edward
had returned. with some forgotten WORD
OF fondness on his lips, when, stand.
ing with pale face | saw what in that
first agonized moment l believed my
husbands ghost,
| started with a wild cry, and would
have fallen but that his arms caught
and held me, and then ! knew that il
was no spirit, but living flesh which
bound Inc.
Oh, the agony Of that awakening, the
torture Of the thought which slowly
burned itself upon my brain, that my
love for Edward now was sin, that J
who had 50 lightly talked Of sacrifice
shared with him must meet a greater
sacrifice than any he had pictured, and
meet it alone,
All this l endured while | lay seem
ingly in outward calm, and listened tC
my husbands story, how he had beer
left, as his friends supposed. dead upon
the field; but how the Indians, strange
ly moved to pity, bound up the wounds
they themselves had caused, and held
him for six months captive. Then, pro
curing his release, and learning
thought him dead, lie determined tC
leave me in that belief, but how his lif,
had grown purposeless, and he grew
to feel a vain ~yearning for home ant
wife.
Had | found you married, Madge,'
he ended, 81 would have gone away anc
made no sign. but instead you still
wear the outward badge Of ]widowhood
and though ! little dreamed, my dar
ling, that you should have mournet
my loss. may | not by that sign pleal
for pardon? VIII you not give me tht
hope of casting some sunshine on tn,
fife | have so cruelty d~arkened?'
When his voice ceased my fight haC
been fought and ended. This way duty
lay, and God gave me the strength tc
plant therein my feet. | simply laid
my hands in his for answer, and he
stopped reyerentIy, tenderly, and kissed
them.
That night Edward and / parted for.
ever. | sent for him and told him all
aud watched his face blench while | sal
outwardly calm and unmoyed.
Gods ways are not our ways he
said at last. He has shown us how
purposeless were the sacrifices We had
planned, and He had greater ends in
view. May He give US strength to bear
The months which followed passed az
in a dream, but my hands found plenty
to FIJI them, My husband had come
home to ne a broken man, and | saw
day by day that his strength was fail
ing. Oh, how glad ! vas in those long
yigils by his bedside that | had not
faltered. A love as Of a mother for hel
child grew in my breast as / watched
his remorseful care, his earnest solici
tude in my behalf, as his life ebbet
away. It was inner as well as outel
mourning | now wore, and for a yea
| lived on alone in my home, with NJ
particular event to note the heetin.
time.
One day a letter was put in my hand
| opened it and out dropped two inclos
ures, one in a hand which ever the
caused my heart to beat, and one a fey
lines in a strange writing. Edwards
for it was from him-ran thus: "Whe,
| learned that you were free, Madg,
the wild, sweet hope rose in my breas
that when | could ] should come {
claim my wife, but it was not to be.
have been stricken with a contagiou
fever, and my life is rapidly ebbin
away. The verdict has gone forth, an
must die. 1t is but for a little while.
wait you in a better world. God bles
you forever and forever" The othe
was penned after his death, but tol
what he had withheld, that1foiffseful
on the battlefield showed greater her,
ism or truer glory. 1t is little wond,
that l recall that bright joyous gi
who once bore my name, as another b
: ing, as with folded hands | sit and wal
Sometimes my watch grows heavy, b,
8 my courage fails not. I wait on wit
at least contentment to the end.-N.
Ledger.
Evolution Of an Opinion.
"Oh, Maudie, ! got another letter."
t "Oh, what did he say?"
3 II don't believe | ought to read It,"