The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1897-05-08

5000 t, le"'e me room to overcome he1
Brian: no'0 "
DEAR orlando not expect mo
nome to dinner. Mrs. Ivens is very III
VIII you como here this afternoon? |
am anxious 10 see you"
flndlng boy, Margaret directed him
10 leave the note at Elmwood.
CHAPTER XIII.
BRIAN's CHRISTMAS GIFT
When Brian came to the rectorv III +
AFTERNOON Margaret asked him to 90 up
and see Mrs. Ivens.
Il wish your candid opinion" she
sald. i think she is very i'll, for Ellen
IS not the one to give up until forced 10
From his brief visit Brian came down
with serious face. Margaret was
standing in the lower hall. and one
glance made her heart sink heavily,
The case is hopeless" he said. in
answer to the question she was trvinc
to frame. Il am so sorry for YOU" .
rather be sorry for Them" she re-
joined, trying to Shut out the sympa-
thetlc lace, which made it more difficult
Tor her to be calm. who will tell him?
DO you suppose he can ever be recon
ciled to her loss?"
don't KNOW" interpcsed Brian, for
want OF better answer. Il suppose
we must all be reconciled to whatever
comes to u.s.
"Ah! don't. It is cruel to talk Of
being reconciled. I'd never be recon
ciled. Never!"
| with these abrupt words, she started
TO move away, but her tears blinded her.
and she would have fallen had not
Brian, quick to detect her weakness.
caught her in his arms.
This will not do, Margaret, he said
with some authority. Il think you had
better go home with me. You will make
yourself ill.,"
What nonsense, Brian! III from
watching u few hours with O sick
friend? wouldn't be fit to live if that
were the case. This is not physical
weakness"
Aren't there others to do for Mrs,
lvens?" he asked, with some warmth,
why should it all fall on your Shout
ders?"
"All fall on my shoulders? Oh, Brian,
how you do oxasperate mel OF course
there are others. Plenty Of them.
Everybody loves her, but for some rea-
son she likes to have me with her. And
with her intend to stay"
Then stay you may" he answered,
meeting her defiant eye. II sha'n't
carry you away by bodily forco, though
l don't think you should have your own
way in every case. I have one request
to make. Perhaps you will condescend
to respect it. Don't kill yourself"
Il am not one Of the killing kind" re-
Joined Margaret going stairs. Good
by for the present. You may call to-
morrow, If you will"
Brian did call tomorrow, and this
second visit only confirmed the opinion
expressed in his first. Mrs. Ivens was
dying-from no especial disease, but from
gradual giving away of the vital
forces. A life Of care and anxiety, vex-
ations and privations, and wearying
told at last on the delicate constitution.
Many who fall by the wayside are not
less brave than those who reach the
martyrs stake, and, II the truest heroes
are those who bear life's burdens I'M
complainingly, Mrs. lvens might justly
wear the crown Of heroism.
Margaret was faithful to her trust.
Others came and went, but she remained
by the sick bed. Brian exhausted his
cDtreaties in vain, and even Christmas
Eve could not tempt her to leave her
friend
you tell me her hours are numbered.
Let mo stay until the end. It cannot be
very long now"
And Brian said no more.
Mrs. Ivens' hours were, indeed, num-
bered. The flame of life burnt fainter
and fainter, and when the night of
Christmas Eve passed into the dawn of
Christmas Day, the angels Of lite and
death crossed in their pathway, and the
tired soul found the land Of perpetual
rest-the joys Of an eternal morning.
The incidents Of those closing moments
were indelibly photographed on Mar
garet's mind.
She had to be brave and strong for
tho sake Of those so sadly bcreaved.
Mary had sobbed and the rector had
bowed his head in anguished grief, but
she had shed no tear. She had brought
the solemn, awe-struck children to their
mothers side; she had seen the kiss of
infinite tenderness pressed upon each !
sad little face; her heart had echoed
Elsia's cry Of anguish when for the last
time that little head was pillowed on a
dying mothers breast; yet her eyes had
been hard and dry, though the painful
tightening at her throat had made her
promise to be friend to these mother
less little ones, so hard to speak. And
even now the tears would not come,
though she had thought and thought |
until her mind was weary.
The sunshine lay all about her, the !
bright, glad sunshine of Christmas; on
the floor, where the carpet looked SO
faded and worn; on the very spot that
Elem fingers had mended so often and
SO patiently in their old busy days on the
old chintz sofa, where she was lying
now-so carelessly, so thoughtlessly-
while the heart whose tender, unseltish |
love had made this house a home, in all !
that gives that word its highest, hottest
meaning, was forever stilled in its last |