Year: 1878

10 JusS Win you WDetner you VIII Dt


a man or a coward. Oh! Harrie, il


is hard, but we must part"


She put out her hand and touched


his, cold as marble. For a moment


he clasped it tightly, then dropped


it and said in a voice husky with
emotion and cold despair;


"Alice. do pray for me just as
you have always done. your
prayers have saved me this far, but
for what 1 cannot tell. And now
goodbye, since it must be. God
bless you, Alice; bless you and helr
mep


@God bless US both," Alice wins


pered, with white trembling lips
and clasped hands, and while the
sweet benediction was being uttered


Harrie stood, his tall slight figure


bowed as with an overburdening


sorrow, his cap in his hand and 6
sacred awe stealing over his whole


face.


Later he was gone and she stood
alone, her white beautiful face purel
than snowflake, her great solemn
eyes full of the tenderest softness,
the deepest despair. She felt that
her gay, happy girlhood had slipped
away from her forever, that she was
a woman and had a woman's heart
"a woman's love, strong, abiding
and eternal. She knew then as she
knew ten years later, that only
death could snap her heart strings
asunder from this idol; yea, she
even wondered if eternity could
teach her heart forgetfulness, if in
that beautiful world beyond the
resurrection there would be peace
and rest for her should her proud
wayward one miss the way. Know
ing all this she had bravely dared to
turn away from the beautifully pic
tured life love and imagination had
painted for her, back to a bleak,
colorless one, "cold and gray as the
sea" but pointed out by stern, grim
duty.


And that night, alone in the dark
ness of her own room, Alice Dare
prayed as one seldom prays twice in
lifetime, that God would put down
His hand and touch hers in this
great darkness; prayed that this was
not mistaken duty; that in walk
ing over the burning ploughshares
conscience dictated and putting her
idol from her, she had done what
was right, what was Gods will.
And there in the dust of humilia-
tion and despair, before the crum
bling desecrated altar of her fallen
god, she consecrated her life anew,
slipped back into the hard old love-
less niche, picked up the dropped
stitch in the gray web of herlife, so
drearily, desolately incomplete, and
began her woman's work-forget-
ting self and helping others in all
places and at all times.


No one of the loved ones at home
thought or knew of the weary ach
ing heart she carried about with
her in her every day work. No
one dreamed that the great anchor
hope of her life was forever gone.
She was to the dear old father and
little brothers an sever present
help" sweet, noble, generous crea-
ture, filling their home with sun
shine, their hearts with gladness.
Two years ago her mother had died,
leaving all her cares and RESPONSE
bilities on Alice's delicate young
shoulders. They had weighed heav-
lily too; sometimes she had thought
heavier than she could bear, but at
such times she had Harrie's love
and Harrie's pleasant visits to make
her troubles lighter, her hard un-
natural life more endurable. Now
this was all gone, but because it
was gone, because this brilliant,
dazzling dream had faded into mist,
must she sit down with folded
hands and say, There's no work
for me to do; my life fe-dream is end
ed, my heart is broken?" No, no;
her proud brave heart should never
break. There was father and there
were brothers Rex, Lester, Eugene
and Jamie-she would live for them
now, would do all in her power To
make them happy, good and great.
With the tenderest care she studied
the four bright eager young faces
around her and tried with all a wo-
mans skill to make them content
in their humble little home. Games
Of amusement, little reading clubs
and all sorts of sweet simple allure
ments about the fireside were insti-
tuted, thus making home more at
tractive to restless, wayward little
hearts.


Years ago before Harrie had
crossed her path her dreamy ideal
nature had INDUCED in wild splen-
did bursts of imagery, and she had
dreamed of q brilliant literary ca
reer. Now her old ambition came
back to her, soothing to some de-
gree her longing dissatisfied heart.
Next to the desire TO make father
happy and the brothers useful in
telligent men was the sweet unut-
tered hope that some day she might
make something with her pen and
thus help in educating the boys.
Their little home and farm were