Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1897-01-14
Saint Maru's Beacon
fContinued from 1st PAGE

tOOubhueu ErUm lst E1gc.J
heavy forboding /; while q prayer
comes stealing mp from my soul
that God may bring nv sister back
to me.
Will my long neglected Heavin-
ly Father hear that petition it did
not come from proud Marjorie
Deans lips, the silly heartless
child, but from q woman, who was
bowed and softened. by the weight
Of her own Gin.
knew that the whole house had
turned ont in search Of my missing
sister, and / who had pleaded in
vain to Uucie Ezra to be allowed
to accompany them, alone remained
wandering about from room to
room, trying to stiffie the pain
which seemed to be driving me
mad.
They came came TO me an hour
later, telling me they had found .
clue. A young lady answering TO
Murisl's description, heavily yelled,
and purchased 4 ticket 1t 7astation
q few miles distant FOR Philadel-
phia, and hoarded the $50 train.
Then it was that I went to Lest
er Cameron, who had helped in the
search, and on my Bonded knees
prayed him to find and bring her
back to me. Oh ! the anguish in
that white face, the look Of deep
sorrow in those dark eyes. They
seemed to burn my very soul, and
the memory Of it will haunt me IN.
til the Fathers hand is laid upon
me and He says that my work ID
done. With one or two kind words,
for which / shall ever bless him, he
started at once IN company with
Uncle Ezra to follow up the clue.
How the hours crawled by, the
long weary nights and days, and ]
am stifled with the gloom and still.
ness Of the house. Eagerly ! watch
for the coming of the post, hoping
ing to hear something of the absent
Oh they must know how miser'
able am and will write me. But
no, no letter again, and / sink help
lessly in my chair with q moan Of
pain.
A paper is laid in my hand; latel
some impulse know not what com
PEELED me to open it. My eyes fell
upon the accident column. l wa
hardly conscious Of what read
Suddenly, however, my mind be
came active; half rose and clutched
the paper tightly. The disaster wal
terrible one. The down train
from New York had collided with
a. upward bound express. Hun.
dreds were wounded, quite @ mum.
Der killed, and my eyes ran quickly
over the names of the latter. A
cry Of terror filed the room, for
had seen but two, and as If in let.
tiers of fire / read the names-Ezrs
Gordon and Lester Cameron. A
blank filled mp the space of time
which followed.
Months later, when l opened my
eyes again to life, / found myself
alone in the world, with only some
friends about me.
As think of that now some lines
from Jean Ingelow come to my
mind.
81 took year out Of my life and story
dead year, and said I will hew thee tomb!
When first | arose from my bed
and crept about the room, would
never have known the pale, silent,
sorrowful woman to be the bright,
beautiful Marjorie Dean, who, by
her treacheroHs smiles, had broken
so many hearts. The dark cluster.
ing locks of which / had been sc
proud, now fell in snowy whiteness
about me. The eyes alone remain.
ed unchanged, dark, sparkling,
brilliant as Of yore. For o long
time it seemed to those around me
that even then I mast snrely die,
but suddenly I reused myself from
the apathy in which I had fallen
and moved about with something
Of my old activity.
l saw the wondering looks cast
upon me, but soon they commenced
to understand my motive and knew
that | was making preparations to
leave my home.
In vain my friends demonstrated
with me.
Il have no home,' l would say to
them, not until j find Mural.
From henceforth | am a wanderer