Year: 1866

door, then opened it, and stood there i'll the
doorway with a look on her face that fairly
startled me-


| He's done it !" she said


Done what, Mrs. Payne p


I" Given her up. the sneaking villain
tell you God don't let such things go un-
punished He'll have to suffer"


Do you mean Phil Gleason 2"


Yes. He went over to Miss Schofeld's
last night and asked Dely to release him.
He told her that he hadn't meant to do
wrong. He thought he loved her at first,
and he never should have found out that he
dent it he hadn't seen another Swho had
taught him what love was The mpudent,
sentimental, novel-reading scamp"


And what did DEFY do 2" asked, inte-
rupting the outpou'ing of her Indignation


Behaved like a woman, thank Heaven
Whatever she felt she didn't show it out for
him and Hetty Day to laugh over She
told him very quietly that he was as free
as if he had never seen her and that since
he didn't love her, she was very thankful
he found it ont before they were married.
| guess he went away disappointed No
doubt he thought she'd make a good deal
more fuss. When he was gone she called
her mother and told her the whole and then,
Miss Schofeld said d--for it was she that told
me--her face and lips turned white as a
piece of marble, and says she, Mother,
Pve got my death !" Then she kind of
tottered, and Miss SchotieId took hold Of
her and got her on to the bed, and there
she lay all night, her eyes wide staring
open without sheddn' a tear, or speakin' a
word, or seemin' to hear anything that was
said to her. This mornin' her mothers been
tryin' to make her eat and drink, but she
couldn't. She's nigh about distracted Miss
Schofeld is, and She run over here to see
| if | could think of anything to be done "


In moment it flashed into my mind that
this was my work which God sent me- Ito
comfort this poor soul.


Might go over, do you think" asked
Mrs. Payne, without its being considered
intrusive, or hurting their feelings ?"


Yes, indeed, | W sh you would, Pm sure
| told Miss Scholeld Pd tell you, and may
be you'd think Of something to be done----
You're younger t:.an am, and you'll know
better how to deal with young girl. Pll
never blame Gud any more tecause am
childless widow. Ii DEFY Schofeld was
my child believe this would break my
| heart"


Went over to Mrs. Schefeld's praying
silently, but Heaven knows how fervently
all the Way that might have grace and
strength to do some good, to impart some
comfort. | wished to ease my own heart
ache little by easing another's.
| found Mrs. Schofeld in the outer room :;
and told her | had come to see if could
say anything to rouse and comfort her
daughter. She read, | know, the genuine
sympathy in my face, for she searched it
moment, and then said, pointing to the bed
room beyond


She's in there. Oh, if you could COM
fort her. But think if ever folks hearts
do break, hers has She loved that crea-
ture as you can't guess"


went in. Oh, to what white stricken
lilly my blushing rose had turned All the
pink prettiness was gone all the life and
brightness dashed out Of the young face.
Some instinct warned her of my approach,
and she turned her head little and made a
motion as if to get up. Then she sank
back on the pillow again and said ieebly:


Excuse me, won't you! am not we'll
! this morning"


Then knowing scarcely how to approach
her, | went up to her and kissed her.
| know all about it," ! said "and
should not have ventured to come to you if
| had not myself known sorrow. think
Dely, that have felt just as you feel now,
only it was so much the worse for me that
| | had no mother to live for Yet, through
Gods help, triumphed over my pain, and
| found something still left in life"


She looked at me, reused to sort of
dreary curiosity.


"You Did you ever know sorrow and
heart-break But it could not have been
such as mine You didn't know how
the day that did not think of him and
when | lay down to sleep, | said his name
in my last prayer, and dreamed Of him all
night. And now he's just dropped out Of
my life, don't you see how empty it is ?"
There was an utterly indescribable pathos
| in her voice and manner 1t was not
complaint to which she had given utterance
the assertion rather than fixed fact
which she wished me to understand.
| lay down beside her on the bed. drew
her poor pretty head to my bosom, and then,
praying silently for help to tender Father
who knows the weakness of His creatures,
| strove to comfort her-tO persuade her to
remember her mother, and to remember the
long hereafter, which will be the untaiIing
recompense for all sorrows nObly borne, all
tasks braveIy done. At length prevailed
SC far that she suffered me to undress her,
and then drank few swallows Of tea, and
ate a fragment of toast. When | went
away she said, with humiliated submission
which touched me to the heart:


"You have done me good but doubt if
| am W. n it. am such poor, weak
girl. iii try to do right. Pll live for moth
er's sake, if can, But Pm afraid | can't"


|, toe, was afraid she could not as walk
ed sorrowfuIIy back to Mrs. Payne's. She
was not strong to live and suffer Strong
natures bear such burdens as weak ones
break under. 1t seemed to me that hel
wound would prove mortal.


After that | went to see her every day
She strove hard to live as she had promis
ed She dressed herself, she tried to eat
she even went for awhile about some Other
daily tasks in helpless, feeble sort Of way
which it was pitiiu to see. She had NJ
pride, not the slightest If she had any WE
might have saved her through that Blu
she cared nothing if all the world knew
that tho loSS of Philin Gleason had broker