Year: 1872

ooh, Phil, I'm not Worrying" said
Mary, almost crying; otis only
only"


az know, DEAR" very tenderly. otis
only that to-day, of all days, you and L
were TO belong entirely to each other
and to God. And we do, darling. l
wouldn't go back if 1 could to that old
time when Sylvie made me so miserable.
This new time is more to me than that !;
and you, my Mary, a thousand times
dearer than ever she was. But some
men can't ever forget the past, or lay it
aside, or bury it away out of sight, and
am one of them. My love for Sylvia
Dare died long ago. wouldn't dig it
up again if l could by saying the word.
But when saw her face to-day, so un-
happy, dear, SO changed, forgot all
that has come between, all her wrong
Sylvia who used to be my sweetheart at
school and play with me beside Bay
berry Brook. Don't be angry with me,
darling, but help me to think what we
can do for poor Sylvie."


"Angry, PhiP'-kissing him" why,
how could II 1 love you all the more
for being SO OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES like a
woman, dear-for all you're so big and
strong. But what can we do?"


81 am trying to think. darling. If
you were my wife it would be easy.
We would go together to Sylvie, and
comfort her together. But it won't do
for me to go now and if you made
friends with her, people would talk so.
Even your 7-,5 stsfi eL -E


"But Phil" cried true-hearted Mary,
"why need we mind peoples talking if
what we do is right? Tell me that you
fsb To nd TO- n,
you needn't tell me; I'll go any way,
because want to go. And, DEAR" the
sweet face grew tender, "you know we
said that we would try to look out for
something good to do-something we
could help or give to in memory of this
day when we professed church mem
bership together. Perhaps this is the
very work. Perhaps He has sent this
poor thing specially to us; who knows,
Phil?"


While thus tender souls took counsel
over her fate, Sylvia stood alone beside
Bayberry Brook. A long afternoon of
fever had bred within her such restless
disquiet and impatience of the confined
air of her room that, haunted with the
longing to escape, she had risen from
her bed about o'clock in the evening,
and, wrapped in a shawl, had crept un-





The night was wild and gusty. Ithad
rained heavily over the mountains all
day, and masses of heavy cloud, driven
by the wind, were now scudding across
the sky, catching up in their folds and
then releasing the moon, which here
and there cleaned out with fitful splen-
dor. A boding moan came on the
breeze, significant of coming storm. It
fell like some awful, tortured human
voice upon the ears of the half-delirious
girl, as with rapid steps she passed along
the meadow-path, now silent and de-
serted. Gaining at last the bank where
in the morning she had stood, she paused
and bent over, with clasped hands,
weeping and talking to herself.


g Oh, what dreadful, dreadful world
it is p she sobbed; L didn't know how
dreadful till came back here. That
girls facel Did my face ever look like
that's happy and quietl had for.
changed when he saw mel He turned
white, and his eyes stared as if I was
something awful. And ] ami am a
ghost 1.-The ghost of little Sylvia Dare,
who used to play beside Bayberry Brook.
Oh, if could only go back and be her
go back to the time when Il went to
school across this meadow, and Aunt
Orphan used to call me sgood child r
GoodI All, no! Nobody will ever say
that to me again


IF there was only some way of going
back-going back Any way to get rid
of the burden of ones selfl What did
that hymn say


HE will save you just now?'


Not mel That couldn't mean mel 1
wish it did. I wish the Elder would
take hold of my hand and lead me in
and dip me under, as he did this morn
ing, and say those words, and all these
wretched years could slip off and float
away, and could rise up again washed
walk out and begin overi Oh dear |
That would be good |"
She filled her hands with the water
and poured it over her burning head.
"That is NICE" she said" nice and
cool. Perhaps, if went in and stood
just there where Phil stood this morn
ing, I should be cool all through, and
this pain would go away. I'll leave my
shawl here, though, to keep dry till I
come out"


She threw the shawl upon the ground
| and waded in. The stream had risen
since morning, fed by the mountain
rains, but she never needed the added
depth. Intent upon reaching the mid
die of the pool, where the mornings
baptism had taken place, she hurried
! forward. Now the water was at he1
waist-now above her breast. A hasty
slip-her footing gave way-the waite,
was over her head. Instinctively she
struggled, for one moment grasped the
air-then a sudden gladness possessed
her: "Just now," she murmured, with
a wild smile on her white face-ther
gave herself to the stream and sank
The moon plunged into sudden eclipse
of cloud; the wind sounded with dreari
er moan-then, ere the ripples of Syl
Was passage had ceased in the brook


the silvery radiance again streamec


forth and lit the eddying circles. Th,


breeze died into stiffness, and bush anc


night possessed the place.


| They found her in the morning. Th,


stream had hoated her down a little wa,


to where tiny cape of yellow grasse


arrested its how-and there, half in


half out of the water, she lay pillowet


on the slope. The brown waves playe,


lightly with her garments and lappet


and caressed her form as mothe


caresses her child. A smile of perfec


peace rested on her lips. She was fai


and young and innocent; the deep bar