The Monitor-register., 1897-05-21
MY MAD FOLLY.

So eU w
hassett, where l was passing the sum
mer. We-my mother and 1, who com
posed our entire family circle-had
strayed to this quiet place because we
knew that her lease of life was not very
long, and grasped at any suggestion OF
possible relief to her, aver as the drown.
ing catch at straws, forgetting how frail
they are. And it was terrible to me to
think that l must be left alone in the
great, wide world-alone and poor.
We were always together-my mother
and for she was more like an eide,
sister than a parent, and we chung the
closer now, for we felt that the time was
short.
Therefore, l made her life as pleasant
as possible, and her only anxiety was for
my lonely, unprotected future, when we
must leave her under the flowers and
the dew, and I would be friendless.
But l, feeling very brave and conf
dent, as the young are prone to do,
smiled back courageously into her face,
and at last, when my future began to be
discussed, changed the subject of con.
versation.
And SO we lived on by the seaside, and
two lives were very grave and un
eventual, until the time came when a ray
OF sunshine slipped in; but, all /! when
the sunshine goes again, l police it is
always darker than before it came. We
were strolling along the beach one divine
June morning, my arm around my
mother. in a tender, protecting way,
when she suddenly started from my side,
advanced a few steps, and with a flush
upon her pale face, held out her hand in
a cordial greeting. Glancing up in sur.
prise, l met tie laughing brown eyes of
Roger Dermott. He saluted me with a
courteous bow, insisted upon taking my
place beside mother. and together we re.
sumed our morning walk. That was the
beginning of many pleasant days. Days
no longer lonely, for he was ever with
us; no longer now was my heart filled
with gloomy forebodings for the future, for
Roger and l were betrothed.
1t is wonderful what great strides
hearts will make toward each other when
isolated from society and surrounded by
the wealth which dear Mother Nature
loves to lavish upon her chill dren.
Looking back upon that past, after the
lapse of years,
81 think my eyes grow wet, as somewhere
within my breast
Stabbed o faint and slothfu pang never
wholly laid at rest"
Somehow that secluded spot has ever
been to me as the graveyard in which all
ever loved lies sleeping; and yet, there
is no dust there to which l have a claim,
There are graveyards in the memory
sometimes, and there it seems to me we
always lay u bravest and best.
Roger was a sailor, and it was strange
how loon l learned to take an interest in
all that pertained to the ocean. We
passed hours by the salt sea waves, while
he unfolded to me the mysteries that lay
Kidding in its shining deceitful depths. 1
loved the sea, then; oh, how l loved it !
But now, when l walk along the beach.
it talks to me of paintings, and all dreary
things, and the sound of it's tumultous
roaring comes to my ears like the cries
of a soul in despair.
One gloomy afternoon in Septembe Der,
with the sky threatening and dreary, and
the sun red and %sullen, sinking in a
crimson ball behind the mass of clouds
lowering in the vest, l walked upon
the rocks beside the sea. Roger was to
meet me therefor he was to sail on the
morrow for the Indies, leaving me, with
a heart like a lump of lead, to await his
return. l could not endure the thought
of parting. But he would be captain of
the vessel when he came back, he said
and he must not loose this chance in the
world. He would have taken me with
him as his wife, but there was mother,
too frail to undertake the journey, and 80
| would stay behind. But 20 matter
how much is to be gained by the voys
age, there never was a woman yet that
could feel, at such a time, the value of
any gain and | suppose | was like the
rest.
AND so l paced up and down the rocks
in the sunset, with my heart all choked
like, and my voice full oftears. But my
eyes were dry quite dry-for Roger
must not see my weakness. When he
was gone there would be days and
nights to cry ill, and then my tears need
not be restrained.
So waiting bravely for his coming, 1
wstched the ofing, where the ships.
rocked lazily to and fro, with the rising
wind. The surf lines came booming up
at the foot of the ROCKS, frothing al d
foamiDg angrily; the gulls whirled
above my head, shrieking and dipping
into the white capped waves. And then,
watching the sun go down, l began to
wonder at Rogers delay. We had walked
upon the beach every pleasant evening,
but never before had I aw aited his COM
ing at this spot. And, thinking how
pleased he would be to find me 80 much
nearer than he anticipated, | SIN lied to
myself as l marked at last his familiar
figure moving along the beach. But
where was he going? He directed his
steps to a little nook or cove on the shore,
which i had never visited, for he had
warned me of it's danger when the tide
was in.
AS he entered the sheltered nook, | per-
ceived that the place was occupied, for
there was the CLEAN of a gay dress, and
| then l saw a slender form. 1t was Milly
Dean, the daughter of a fisherman, living
near, and my heart gave a great, angry
bound, as 1 saw that Roger evidently ex-
pected her. saw her turn to meet him,
and ainging back her long, dark ha.
from her pretty face, she seized his hancs
with a passionate gesture.
But | waited to see no more. Dow n
from the rock I dashed, and turned to
ward home. Then, l composed myself,
and walking quietly to the hotel, l sought
my own apartments. Ny mother-gen
tie soul-attributing my agitation to my
parting with Roger, tried to soothe me,
and& was too heart sick to explain. In a
short time, l heard his voice asking the
servant if we were engaged, and, regard
less of consequences, l sent down word
that I was too ill to see him, on that, the
last evening we were to be together!
The next morning, before the shiI
sailed, l wrote a line to Roger Dermott,
aud returning a book which | had found