The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1902-12-13
ONE wOMAN's FAITH.
BY FLORA STEWART EMORY.

"Poor Grace hasn't much to be
thankful for this year," sighed Mrs.
Garrett, as her daughters sweet voice
was heard singing in the library,
where she sat writing.
"She seems happy enough" her
sister answered. "There now, she is
commencing to sing songs in minor
key, and 1 know she is unhappy.
How 1 wish we did know what had
become of Osborn"
Mrs. Garrett and her sister were
very much alike, and when Colonel
Abel died, leaving his wife rich, but
childless, she wrote to her sister to
bring Grace and live with her. There
they had been ever since, and it was
hard 10 realize Grace had not two
mothers, SO devoted were both women
to her.
Six months before, Grace Garrett
and Osburn Ross had married. Mrs.
Garrett and Mrs. Abel considered
him too old for her. He was still
comparatively young man, but he
had passed his thirty ninth birthday,
and Grace was only eighteen. This
was their only objection to him, and
as Gfacce loved him, she did, as many
another good girl has as10Ie done married
without her mothers knowledge.
They went for drive together, and
when he pleaded so hard she gave
her consent to the secret marriage.
1t was an ideal evening in early
November. The sky was studied
with a myriad of stars, winking and
blinking their approval. The moon
had not yet risen, and the air was
filled with that strange influence i'm
parted by an Indian summer night.
They were quietly married and re-
turned home early, for Grace did not
want her mother and aunt to know
about it then.
Next week Osburn was called West
on business, and before leaving told
Grace to remember, no matter what
happened, that he loved her better
than all else on earth. She clung to
him as if she could not let him go,
and he kissed her again and again.
my wife p he whispered, and she
turned away her eyes, that they
might not see him leaving.
She received long, beautiful letters
from him, which she read and reread
during the lonely hours. Then they
ceased suddenly, and she became so
anxious and worried that she confess
ed her secret to her mother. Mrs.
Garrett was inclined to forgive Grace,
but Mrs Abel felt more bitter. After
a time they, too, became anxious. 1t
had been six weeks since his last let
ter. Finally a note came.
Dear little angel GIRL" it read,
"I will be home soon and can explain
everything. have been very sick. +"
That was all, but he did not come
back soon. Over year has passed,
aud he still remained away. Mrs.
Garrett wrote to where his last letter
was dated ard was told that such a
man had been there until short
time before, but had not been sick.
"He is not worthy Of your tears,
DEAR" her mother said, but, worthy
or not, Grace shed great many of
them.
II know there is some good reason
he does not write" she sobbed.
''But he lied to you, Grace, when
he said he was sick, and you ought
TO be woman enough not to forgive
that" Mrs. Abel said impatiently.
eff he told an untruth he had good
reason for it, and / am willing to
trust him forever" she answered.
Thanksgiving, and not word,"
her heart murmured, but her lips
sang a merry song, which uncon-
sciously changed into soft, low lul-
1aby.
Il wish she would not sing at all"
her aunt said, for she knew as we'll
as did the mother that the young
heart was full of longing.
"Oh dear love,
Who is not my love-
Do you know that love you still
| Do you feel this pain
In the heart you've slain2
| Oh, dear love,
Who is not my love.
Sweet wee babe,
| Who is not my babe,
Do you see these empty armsP
| They would clasp you tight
With Gods own might
| Sweet wee babe,
| Who is not my babe.''
The story was finished and Grace
glanced over it once again before
sending it.
What would I do without my be-
loved work ?" she murmured.
"Tea is ready now," Mrs. Garrett
said, as she smiled approvingly at
the loose sheets of manuscript.
Dearest mamma p was Grace S
only response, as she wound her arms
around her neck. Mrs. Abel asked
to read the story, but Grace laugh
ingly said no one was allowed to read
her work until it appeared in print.
Thanksgiving Day had purposely
been a quiet one. They did not feel
like laying a feast when the house
held so sad a heart.
Grace crept to her room earlier
than usual. She was not missed al
first, and when she was neither wo-
man said a word. Both their hearts
yearned for the child who had been a
woman before her time.