Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1899-07-27
CHAPTER XXI

The dark shades of night had Gov
J cred the trees and flowers when Inei
rose from her long stupor of grief, ant
found her way home. She was as
one daZed with sorrow; she could
: neither see nor hear. No tears came
to relieve the pent-up agony of he,
: tortured heart. He was dead, he who
had loved her So never would thai
dark face smile on her again; never
again would those eyes, so full of love
, look down upon her; never more would
the musical voice whisper sweet words
, in the evening cleaning. It was al
over; she had seen him for the las
time The golden light that had
frightened her life changed into
the deepest gloom. If she could have
seen him once-if he had but c1asped
her in his arms, and hidden her fare
well,
All night she paced YEARLY up and
down her little room.
eff I could but weep" she cried
this burning pain would leave met
but no tears came to her relief. When
morning dawned, and she did not ap-
pear as usual, Nita, full Of solicitude
went up to her young lady's room, she
found her lying white, and cold, and
senseless upon the floor.
Some young girls would have died
! if they had been called upon to suffer
that poor child's anguish. In great
alarm Nita summoned Caterina and
between them she was laid upon her
little white bed. They saw that it
had not been slept upon. One bathed
her forehead, with fragrant waters,
while the other made a cup of strong
coffee. They both agreed it should
be better to say nothing of their young
lady's illness, lest it should alarm
madame.
Inez recovered slowly, and in answer
to the numerous and rapid questions
the two servants put to her. she said
her head had ached all night so much
that she could not sleep
Il cannot read to madame today"
she said to Caterina. ''Will you tell her
that I am unable to rise?'
Then she turned her race from them,
and said no more.
Madame Monteleone grieved to hear
of her grandchild's Illness. She gave
orders that every attention should be
paid to her, and deeply regretted that
she could not visit her and see that
she was properly cared for.
1t was all the same to poor Inez.
Had dozen solicitous friends sur
rounded her, she would neither have
seen nor heard them. She lay
throughout the day lost in a stupor of
grief, going over and over again the
whole of her short love story,-the
bright summer day when she had first
seen him, his passionate love for her,
his tender words, his deep devotion.
And now she was never to see him
again, All, if she could but close her
eyes and die! Then, like a sharp
sword, came the memory of that day
when he had spoken to her of DEATH
and asked her what she would do with
out him. She had told him then that
she should die with him; and now the
time he had foreseen had arrived, yet
she was obliged to live on, and bear
her sorrows as best she could. She
was alone in her grief, as she had been
alone in her happiness and love.
For two days she lay there, dread
ing to rise, dreading to begin again
the dreary, monotonous life that would
have no light nor hope. On the
third day she rose. In the wardrobe
that had belonged to her young mo-
Their she found a black dress. Caring
nothing for the remarks that would
be made, she put it on, and went tc
madame's room.
Il am better this morning, grand,
mamma" she said, "and am come tc
read to you"
Madame Monteleone gazed at he
with something like alarm. Wha
had taken the color from that beauti
full face. the light from her dark eyes
S the music from her voice? Could tina
I, pale, sad. dropping girl, in the heav.
mourning dress, be the bright, radian
S child whom no one had been able tt
: manage or govern?
You have been very IL, Inez.' sh
said, gently: and, my dear child, WI.
e have you put on that black dress? D.
take it Oft makes me quite sad t,
5, see it,
e Let me wear it, said Inez; &
e suits me-and l like it. l never Wis
V to wear anything but black again
It That's a very strange fancy for
# young girl" said madame inwardl
a resolving that, as soon as Inez locke
better and stronger, she would fore
l, her to put away the gloomy robe.
it 1t was four days before 1nez sum
,r moned courage again 10 visit tn
'*trysting tree" She longed to go one
d. more to say good-by 10 a spot wher
4, she had been so happy. Only ono
n more, and then she would never Sc
ID that part Of the grounds again. Sh
IT, had ceased to care about the world sh
" had so passionately longed for.
le all Seville were to pass along the hig
Of road, all the gay nobles and IA
Y ladies, she would not wish to sc
e. them.
Ii. She was still half child, half We
Of man; and, with trembling steps, ST
e. sought the scene Of her former happ
mess. Even when she came again
I'd the spot where she had seen Rinald