Year: 1861




second marriage. The present Mrs.
Allan was model woman. At least,
so her friends said, and SO she thought.
A woman who did everything system
atically, and who gave thanks daily
that she was not as other women were,
or subject to like failings with them
If that ingredient, termed tenderness,
had ever formed one of the component
parts of her nature, she must have done
away with it years ago, and she now
stood woman no more susceptible to
gentle influence, than is an iceberg of
the northern sea, to the warming influ-
ences of the stars. She played the
whole game of life according to code
of laws, every article of which was as
unalterable as a decree of the Medes
and Persians. Nobody ever knew Mrs.
Allan to be late to church or late to din
ner. She never said can't for cannot,
or made use of any other abbreviated
English. / She never put on her gloves
in the street, or omitted her daily ex-
ercise. In short, she was the feminine
embodiment of system. So all the
world looked at Gerty ard said, "How
fortunate, the child has so excellent a
stepmother." Fortunate ?-Certainly.
Wasn't her hair always parted exactly
in the middle, and brushed so smooth
ly back !? Wasn't her hat always put
on with the most rectangular propriety,
and tied in an even bow? Didn't she
always sit with her hands folded so like
lady, while other mothers daughters
were romping about and trailing their
hats by the ribbons through the dust ?
Of course she did. The care which
she had from her mother was so won
derful. Yes, but my good friend, if
your child ask bread, will you give her
stone and if she plead for love, do
you imagine that any amount Of atten-
ton to her physical needs can satisfy a
soul formed of God to feed upon kind
looks and fond words?


God pity the woman whose heart the
wear and tear of life has calloused, until
they have left there no soft spot for a
loving nature to impress itself upon; and
God pity the child whose earnestcraving
spirit comes in contact with such a
woman, ,only to be frozen by her influence


"Where is Gerty ?" asked the father.


81 thought best for her to retire at
her usual hour" and the busy host
thought no more of his child.


Meanwhile, the little one had cried
until the fountains were dry, and the
feverish cheeks were sore; so she
curled herself up by the low window,
and looked out into the night. Away
up in the dark blue heaven shine the
thousand stars, while the snow is white
and glistening upon lawn and meadow,
and afar, on the outlying 6iilis. Gerty
remembers the starry night of long
ago, when there was some one to fold
gentle arms about her, and whispering
ly lavish on her thousand pet names
and bitterly, how bitterly God knows,
the young heart feels that she has no
one to love her now. Papa is kind,
but he is away so much, and then since
this new mother came, he doesn't no.
tice her as much as he once did.


Suddenly the child starts up from
her low seat, and with parted lips and
dilated eyes, stands listening. The
sound of music comes up from below
and amid all the artistic additions and
} variations, her ear detects the notes OF
an old and familiar refrain. 1t is the
same sweet evening song. her mothers
lullaby. She used to sing it in the
purple twilight, with Gcrty's golden
head nesting in her bosom, and now


with this gentle measure, those far-of
nights came floating back to her on
) their starry wings, and she sees her
own mother once more. She stands


before her with dropping head and her
long fair hair. Gerty hears her low


sweet voice keeping time with the mus
ic; she sees, as of old, the love light
in her eyes; she stretches out her arm
towards her, but the music has ceased
and her mother beckoning with hel
hand, whispers, "Come my child" and
then vanishes silently into the starlight
Gerty waited but an instant. Her
mother had said "Come," and she
would GO. So, noislessly as a spirit
she glided down the broad staircase
fitted past the open door of the parlor
Out into the dark clear night, her long
hair streaming behind her, and her fee
> scarcely touching the frozen ground, OF
: past the great houses, and over tht


lonely ways, never hating or turning
until under the dark old pines, sh'
reached snow-covered grave.


:, Here it was. This was poor nam
. mas home now; here they had brough


her on that sad snow-falling day, ant
left her-left her all alone, with he
: closed eyes and her folded hands; ant
. here she, her little girl, would come ant
y stay with her always.


e No feeling of fear entered the child
4 heart now. She clasped and klssedlth'
:, cold, white headstone, and its coldnes
!, and whiteness only reminded her th'


more of the pale brow which they hat
t lifted her to kiss just two years before
{ The night was bitter cold, but Cert,
? knew it not. What though the little fee
{ were freezing-she felt it not she was s,
r happy. There was a glorious light in tn
! sky and all orer the hills. The pines
above and around her, murmured an,
s whispered, and she thought they wer
e singing to her her mothers cradle song
n.