Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1907-08-07

made no difference to her. He was
her king, though fallen one. Woman
ike. she loved him even more tender
| ly and truly in his adversely than she
had done in his prosperity. Others
blamed him; she knew how he had
been tempted. She made a hundred
excuses for him, even while she de-
plored his crime. When the day Of
his trial came, men gazed with won
der on the beautiful white face. so
full Of anguish and despair. Her eyes
never left him, and her lips quiyered
with every word that told against him.
When the sentence, of ten years trans
portation was given, one long low cry,
never forgotten by those who heard
it, rang through the court, and Mag
dalen Hurst fell as one dead
Something like sharp culver of
pain passed over Stephen Hurst's face
as he saw this; but even the heavy
sentence had not power to quell his
light, trif1ing, thoughtless spirit He
bowed almost gaily to judge and jury,
l anu ACLI Tue AOSh ulIC1lg uluIONCu.
He could not even understand the
light in which Magdalen viewed his
crime. To him it was a piece of
"unheardof bad luck ell turn
of the tide, ia misfortune" but he
never called it sin or an error. He
thought her notions narrow and
bigoted. What could such man. ut
Uerly devoid of all honor. understand
of religious, loving sensitive nature
like Magdalen's?
She spent every moment with him.
There were whole nights when she
never left the prison Understanding
there content to gaze upon the walls
that held him. She was of the nature
that makes heroines. Her love, in it's
grand self-forgetfulness was simply
heroic; but its heroism was all wasted
upon him.
Five weeks before Stephen Hurst
left England, little Hilda was born.
He only saw her once. What there
was of a better nature in him was
touched when his fair young wife
laid tie little babe in his arms. He
half wished he had been better
man; but the good impulse vanished
almost before he kissed the little face.
He made his wife promise that she
would come to him if she could, and
she intended at any cost to keep her
word
Magdalen Hurst never knew how
the day passed that took her husband
away. 1t was one long dream of I'M
utterable anguish. Awaking from it,
she found herself alone in the great
city of London-alone, save for her
little child. She would not go
home, where they would talk con-
tinually of the man she loved; where
every idle word uttered against him
would pierce her loving, faithful
heart So for three years Magdalen
remained in the great city, working
hard to maintain herself and her child.
During that time Donald Burns and
his wife died. Miss Erskine, who
married Lord Hutton, returned with
nIu lEOLu dUiOdu, anu WSuI " IIyu-
mar.
Then Magdalen received letter
from her husband, begging her to go
out to him; but she had not the
means. She tried to save money, but
found it impossible out of her small
earnings. Another year passed, and
hen Magdalen put aside her pride and
vent back to Brynmar. She found
her foster-sister, Lady Hutton, in the
bitterest depths of sorrow. Her hus-
passionately attached, were both
drowned by the upsetting of a boat
upon the lake. She stood upon the
bank and saw them die before her
eyes, unable to render them the least
assistance is. She saw her little daugh
ter's golden head disappear in the
dark cold water. She saw her hus-
band struggle in vain to save himself
and his child
Many suns rose and set before Lady
Hutton saw anything again; and on
the very day that her husband and
child were brought home to Brynmar
to be buried, Magdalen Hurst reached
the little cottage where her simple
happy childhood had been spent. She
waited there many long weeks I'M
| til Lady Hutton was able to see her;
then, taking little Hilda by the hand,
she went to the Hall.
Sorrow and illness had SO COM
pletely changed Lady Hutton that her
lfoster-sister hardly knew her again.
There was but little greeting between
them until Lady Hutton's eyes fell up
on the child. Then her pale face grew
winter, and her hands trembled.
as that your child, Magdalen?'' she
asked. is that Stephen Hurst's
daughter?"
When Magdalen replied that it was,
Lady Hutton led her to her own room,
where hung the portrait of a lovely
little girl not unlike the one who
gazed upon it.
"See," she said. your child is like
mine, Magdalen; you must give her
to me; look at the violet eyes and
the golden hair?"
There was indeed some faint re-
semblance between the two fair little
faces