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HomeMy WebLinkAboutLucknow Sentinel, 1891-08-07, Page 6411000110 • t • / CHAPTER XXL There were two persons in • the room betides the. little one ThOrD0 044 the , 40094 grave, elderly Man, who bowed to .. lady, and, after a whispered word with Thorne, withdrw. Ethel sank on her • • .knees beside- the kw bed and stretched- out yeitruingarms to the child; the mother -love • • Wakened at last in her heart and showing • . iteatinher.face, • • " MY baby !". she Meafleck " my little otte, don't you know yone *pother ? Open ' • your beautiful- eyes, thy darling,and look at me eiteiteymirmother_whosis-elalling yen ." Her bonnet had fallen off, the rich wrap and furs were trailing , on the cerpet where she • ' had flung them e her arms were gathered close around thes14tle form, her kisses rain ing on the pallid face, the golden hair. The sleet beat on the windovi panes ; the air of the room etirred as though a dark wing pressed it;_ the glow of the fire looked angry and fitful ; agreat black lump of ..ar°11R'P''tkialAge treaMWIP1T-tite gra an roke ; •••P' 's eSe • in its sullen heart blue flames leaped and danced weirdly. The woman knelt beside the bed, and the man good near her. In the room there was • silence: . The • child's eyes unclosed, a. gleam of recognition dawned in thern he whispered his mother's name and, put 'his hand up to her neck. Then his looked turned to, his father, leis ^10 . .0 arid bent his head to listen; the little voice fluttered and broke, the hand fell away from Ethel's neck, the lids drooped over the beautiful eyes. Thorne raised the tiny form in his arms, the golden head rested on his , breast, Ethel leaped over and clasped the child's hands in here. A change passed over the little face—the last change—the breath came in feeble, fluttering sighs, the pulse grew weaker, weaker still, the heart ceased. beating, the end had come. Gently, peacefully, with his head on his . father's breast, his hands in his mother's clasp, the innocent spirit had slipped from its mortal sheath, and the waiting angel had tenderly received it. Thorne laid the child gently down upon the pillows, pressing his hand over the ex- quisite eyes, his lips to the ones that would never pay back kisses any more; then he rose and stood erect. Ethel had risen also, and confronted him, terror, grief, and be- wilderment, fighting for mastery in her face —in her heart. Half involuntarily, she stretched out her hands, and made a move- . ' meat as though she would go to him • half • involantarily he extended his arms to re- ceive her; then, with a shuddering sob, her arms fellkeavily to her sides, and he folded hisetcross his breast. CHAPTER XXII Mrs. Smith grew daily stronger, more • like herself. Time and care and ceaseless ;affection had wrought their beneficentwork, and mind and body were recovering a healthier tone • her interest revived, and her hold on life renewed itself. As the weeks drifted into months her condition became so materially._imprcnzeclthat t anxiety of her family Subsided and left room for other thoughts and interests;, and finally her health was sufficiently re- established to admit of her husband's-leav- • ing them in the picturesque French village, while he returued to America. The family would winter abroad and re- turn to America in the spring for the wed- ding,. which Blanche had decided should take place in June. June was a lovely • month, she thought, past all the uncer- tainty Of spring, and with the glory of sum- mer beyond it. Some weeks after General Smith's return • to New York, Nesbit Thorne joined his relatives in the pretty Mediterranean vil- lage. The general had found his nephew so changed, so worn in mind and body, that the kindly old soldier became seriously alarmed,' and insisted on trying the remedy uppermost in his mind. He had come, • witla unswerving faith, t� regard the south of Fiance as an unfailing sanitarium, and he took his nephew promptly in hand, and gavehim no peace until he consented to go abroad, never leaving ' him until he had secured his stateroom, and seen him em- barked on his voyage. • Truly, Thorne was gettinginto a very bad way. His was not the nature that emits sweetness when bruised ;It cankered and got black spots through it. And he knew no physician to whom he • could go for healing e no power, greater than his own, to set his disjointed life straight. Love aid faith, alike, stood afar off. The waters of desolation encompassed his soul, without a sign of olive branch or dove. Norma, watching him with the eyes of her heart, as well as those of her under- standing,. learned something of all this. Thorne did not toll her, indeed he talked Little in the days they spent together, walk - r ing or sitting on the warm dry sand okthe coast, and of himself not at all. •His pain wass a prfiamer, and his breast its Bastile. • But Norma learned it, all the same, and learned, too that never while that stormy heart beat' in a living breast would it beat 'for her. She faced the conclu- sion squarely, accepted it, and took her resolution. Norma was a proud woman, and she never flinched; the world should know nothing of her pain, should never guess that her life held aught of disappoint- ' ment A letter from Blanche to Berkeley, written within the following month, contained the result of Norma's resolution. "You will be surprised," Blanche wrote, "to hear of Norma's sudden marriage to Hugh Castleton, which tooWplace three days ago, at the house of the American Minister here in Paris. We were amazed—at least mamma and I were—when Hugh joined.us here, and after a long interview with Norma, informed us that he had cabled father for consent and that the cerem'ony was to take place almost immediately. Hugh, as perhaps you know, is a brother of Mrs. Vincent, Norm's intimate friend, and he hes„,been id love with Norma time out of mind. I do not like the marriage, and feel troubled and sick at heart about it. It has been so hastily arranged, and Norma isn't one bit in love with her husband. and don't pretend to be. Hugh is patient and de- voted to her, which is my strongest hope for their happiness in the future. It seems to mg so unnatural to make a loveless marriage. I can't understand a woman's doing it. Nesbit is going to Palestine and the East. He is miserably changed ; his hair is beginning to streak with gray at the temples already, and the it 0, . , 'ilintkeri4c0:74A,VA:7A, 2 "..t; 1 linee about his mouth are getting hard. Think of how that selfish woman wrecked hiele_past, and AA: justice—not mercy— . re justice, in letting her wreck hii future; now that the child's death has severed the last link that bound them together. Has anything been spared Nesbit? Has not his heart been wrung again and again? Put ,yourself in his plaee, Berkeley, and ecknowledge that after so much tempest he is entitled to soma snii- shine. Hew can Pocahontas stand ? Could I, if it were you ? Could I endure to see you suffer? Do you think that if you were iu Nesbit's place 1 would not come to you, and put my arms around you, and draw your head to ray bosom auelswhieper— Dear, love, if to all this- bitterness I cau brin oelesinglee. drop-of-sweet,—take-i freely, fully from .my lipd and from my love ' ? " CHAPTER XXIII. Berkeley Mason went on to New York in ample time to meet the incoming Cunarder. His sister accompanied him, and as it was her first visit to the Empire City, Mason arranged to have nearly a week for lion- izinbefore theeeeriyeal feeee_eeeeVeeeeveetieeeae.e_.e.. Yorkers were very prod of it. Blanohe knew that she was doing an unconven- tonal-thinge-hut-she-had -observedr-rather wonderingly; the frank helpfulness with with 114116 Southerners would identify themselves with each others' affairs, and she felt sure that in speaking to Jim she ran little risk of l'ebutif. Jim had known the Masons alwayes was of their blood. :. to put his shoulder to their wheel would seem to him the right and natural thing to do. ThereforeBlanehe made her request with coufidence, and Jim, who had never in his life questioned a woman's right to hes. time and attention, went 'with her willingly. They sauntered about ter a aDd. admired all the beauties that were pointed -outeteeleiniettade-showed- his-ecountry-train- ing by pointing out in his turn, subtler beauties which escaped her ; the deli- cate shading of bark and leaf -bud, the blending of the colors of the soil, the way the shadows fell, the thousand and one things au artist, or a man reared in the woods and fields, is quick to :see, if he has eyes in his head. He pointed out to her a ner attention to a tiny squirrel, with a ;440,1444wm-A1014w.a,....414-441.__,4„ plume -like tail, jumping about among the branches overhead. He told her stories of he tropics, too, and of the strange pietur- sque life in the land of the Montezumas, nd made himself pleasant in a cheery, ompanionable way that was very inning. He was pleased with Blanche, nd thousht that his old friend had ereiTal-W7s'fireifello come rom Hoboken and join the party, in order that his mother's eyes might be gladdened by the sight of him the instant she should land. At the last moment, General Smith was e prevented from joining his family in Paris a according to his original intention, and c having old-fashioned notions relative to the w helplessness of ladies and no sort of con - a herself as her mother's courier and, pro- tector, he cabled privately to Nesbit Thorne, requesting him to defer his Eastern journey for a month, and escort his aunt and cousin home. Thorne changed his plans readily enough. He Only con- templated prolonged travel as an expedient to fdl the empty days, and if he could be of service to his relatives, held himself quite at their disposal. Pocahontas was ignorant of this change of programme, or it is certain that she would have remained in Virginia. Her feelings toward Thorne had undergone no change, but, after the long struggle, there had come to her a quiescence that was almost peace. So worn and tempest -tossed -had been her mind, that she clung to even this semblance of rest, and would hardly yet have risked the re -opening of the battle, which a meeting with Thorne would be sure to inaugurate. She was glad to see her old friend General Smith agein, for between the two existed a hearty affection, and more than glad to see Percival. That young gentle- man's joy at being released from the thral- dom of school, coupled with the exhilara- tion of seeing his friends, and the proepeet of a speedy reunion with his mother and Blanche, apearedto_ w_ellenigh-crazehime It certainly required unusual vents for its exuberace—suh as standing on his head in the elevator, promenading the halls on his hand,;, and turning " cart- wheels " down the passages; accom- plishments acquired with labor and pain from his colored confreres in the South. In a marvelously short time after landing,. theparty were packed into carriages, and whirled away to their hotel, leavingtheir heavy luggage in the jaws of the custom- house to be rescued later by the general and Berkeley. As they left the wharf, Poca- hontas noticed anothet steamer forging slowly in, and preparing to occupy the berth next that of the Cunarder. A couple of hours after the arrival of the European travelers at the St. Andrew's Hotel, a squarelybuilt young man ofmedium eight, with a handsome, bronzed face, and Pee heavy, brown mustache, sprung lightly up tun the steps of the hotel and passed into the clerk's office. Here'he ordered a room and delivered hisvalise and umbrella to a porter, explaining that he should probably remain several days; Then he turned to the book, pushed toward him by the clerk, to register his name. • The clerk, in idle curiosity, pulled the register toward him, opened it, and glanced at the name; it was the fourth from the top, just under Nesbit Thorne's—James Dabney Byrd, Mexico. teeffereig'lleff sweet-faced maiden at his Ode. He liked talking to her, and walking beside her in the sunshine '• he decided that " Berke was a deuced lucky fellow, and had fallen on his feet," and he was glad of that. After awhile they turned into an un- frequented walk, and Blanche seized her opportunity. She made Jim sit down on a bench under the old elm tree and seated herself beside him. Then, insensibly and deftly, she turned the talk to Virginia She spoke of his old home, and praised its beauty, and told him how a love for it • had grown up in her heart, although she was a stranger she spoke of the cordial, friendly people, and of the kindness they had extended to her family e.of Werner, his illness, death and burial beside poor Temple Mason. Then she glided on to Pocahontas, and spoke of her friend with enthusiasm, almost with rever- ence ; then, seeing that his interest was aroused, she told him as simply and con- cisely as she could the story of her cousin's love for Pocahontas, and the osition in which the affair now stood. " Jim never moved; he at like a man carved out of atone and listened; • He knew that Pocahontas had never loved him; as he had wanted her to love hintelant, the -knowledge. that _herlore-was given to another man, was bitter. He said no word, only listened with a jealous hatred of the man who had supplanted him grow ing in his breast. Blanche looked at him with tearful eye, and quivering lips; his gaze was on the ground; his face wore, to her, an absent, almost apathetic • look. She was dis- appointed.. She had expected she did not know exactly what, but certainly more sympathy, inore response. She thought that his heart must be less noble than his face and she regretted • having given him her confidence and solicited his aid. :VVheii they got back to the avenue, she re- leased him from further attendance a trifle coldly. She would make her calls alone, she said, it might be irksome to him, prob- ably he had other - engagements. He had n• very good to sacrifice so much of his e to her; she would not detain him longer. im went down to the path and sat down agmn, not notiehigher change of mannr, and only conscious of the 'relief of being free from the necessity of talking commonplace, of • being left to think this matter out alone. He • thought vaguely that she was a kind, considerate woman and then she passed out of his naind. The first feeling with which he grappled was wonder; a strange thing had happened. A few short months ago these people had been .unknown to him; were, as far as his life had been concerned, non-existent. And now! Land, home, friends, love, all things that had been his, were theirs! His place knew him no more; these strangers filled it. It was a strange thing, a cruel thing." Pocahontas had been glad to see Min again, but In her pleasure there had been preoccupation; he had felt it; it was ex- plained now. He knew that she had never loved him; but the possibility of her loving another man had never come home to him before. • He tried to steady himself and realize it; it ate into his heart like corrod- ing acid. Perhaps it was not true; there might be some mistake; then his heart told him that it was true; that there was no mistake. She loved this man, this strangers of whose existence she had been ignorant that evening when she had said farewell to him under the old willows beeide the river. She had beentenderand pitiful then; she had laid her. soft lips against his hand, had given flower from her breast. He moved nd, and, with the fingers of the other , touched the spot which her lips had ed ; the flower, faded andscentless, folded with a girlish note or two she written him, in the inside pocket of his e shadows shifted as the wind ed the branchee S the sound of n's voices came from behind al ,of evergreens; they were raised rprise or excitement, and sounded and jarring.„ In the distance a nurse d a basket -carriage carelessly ; she lking to a workman who slouched her, and the child was crying. Two ws near at hand quarrelled and fought bit of string. anger burned against Thorne. He see no good in his rival ; no tragedy, hos, in the situation. Had his life Tong? Doubtless the fault had been Did he suffer? Jim felt a brute joy CHAPTER XXIV. No; Blanche was not a clever woman; that could not be claimed for her; but her essential elements were womanly. Pain, grief, distress of eny sort woke in her heart a longing to give help and comfort. She talked to Berkeley in her gentle, per- suasive way (she had not courage yet to talk to Pocahontas), and exerted her influ- ence in Thorne's. behalf; but she speedily discovered that she made little head- way e that while Berkeley listened, he did. not assent • that he put down her efforts, mainly, to personal attachment to her cousin, and was therefore inclined to rule out her testimony. She needed help; pressure most be brought to bear which had no connection with Thorne ; someone from the old life must speak, someone who shared the prejudices, and was big enough and generous enough to set them aside and judge of the affair from an unbiased, imper- him sonal standpoint. I his h ' When this idea presented itself, her hand mind turned instantly to Jim. Here was a press man from the old life, a man reared as they lay, had been reared, a marlin no way connected had with Thorne.. Jim could help her, if he vest. would, and somehow, Blanche felt assured] Th that he would. sway Jim had discoveredtheir presence in the ! wome hotel very speedily and had joined the clump party, glad, with an earnest gladnss, to see in su his old friends again, glad also to meet shrill these new friends who had become asso- 1 pushe ciated with the old ones. Blanche had been was ta attracted by him, as women, children and', beside dumb animals always were attracted by ' sparer) him; he was strong, and yet very gentle. over a She determined to speak to • him, to His make him understand the position, and to could entreat him to exert his influence with no pat Berkeley, and through Berkeley, with Poca- gone hontas, to set this matter straight. She did his. not know that she was ab t d . the thing ; was about to stretch a soul on the A li rack and turn the screws. That fine reserve ling a which enfolded the Masons like a veil pre- fell ov eluded gossiping about themselves or their hititan affairs. Blanche had never heard of Jim as child, the lover of Pocahonta,s—or if she had, it and lo had been in an outside, intangible way that open e had made io impression on her. • smile I Possessed by her idea, and intent on raised securing an opportunity for uninterrupted thanks conversation she asked Jin: to take a walk Wha with her. She had some calls to make, she child's said, and they would walk through the park. raised At this season the park was veryebeautbl, his han and she should like to show it to him ; New from a ._ • to his nature had been at work. He could pose steadied. All of her lifehe had cared not understand it—br himself. tor her.Lbeen tender with her : shielding her _ -Wordercameleack-Whim out�rthe past fronifroulli, or grief, or blame, as far as in own, words—" a man must hold him lay, and, thoughhis heart should break, up his own weight," and other he would not fail her now. Slowly he spoke words, "a man mud help with again. . his strength a woman's weakness. ' He "Child," he said gently, "If I've ever' thought of his love with pity, with remorse. said a word that hurts you, forget it, put it . He had never failed her, never put himself 'from you, if I did not understand hen;tI first, till new. What was this thing he had do now—and I'd give my right hand to re- thought of doing ? eon ift. What you do has_alwayre been right Jim stood erect and pulled himself in my eyes—must always be right. I can together, lifting his head and squaring his never--" his voice failed him ; something shoulders as a man de s wheds..a,boutto face rose in his throat and choked utterance ; he an issue fairly. bent his head until his lips touched the hands he held, aid then turned quietly CHAPTER XXV. Pocahontas was alone. The • party had 4ispereeelores-here; one -there, about their own concerns, filled withtheirowninterests. They had invited her to accompany them, even urged it; but she would not; she was tired, she said, a,nd would ret; best te-e was no rest for her. If only the scruple would die ! If only the old influences would lose their hold ; if only she could see this thing as the world -Meeitee .e-e,e)Weealeseeeseeeletteme others, traeher life should be moulded . on other lines than their lives? God, above Why should she suffer, and make ,Thorne suffer ?, . Her mother, Berkeley, the dead, brother whom she had exalted into a hero, the memory of the brave men and noble women from whom she had spreingt the old tra- ditions t • - •. - - , an arraye , iernse yes on one compassion, all the impulses of true woman- -marble. Thorne drew nearer ; she raised her head; side. Against them in serried ranks came hood toward self-sacrifice and love. their eyes mot; he extended his hands with The loneliness of the crowded hotel op- a gesture not to be denied. pressed her ; the consciousness of the life With a smile of indescribable gracious - that environed but did not touch her, gave ness, a tenderness, a royalty o giving, she birth to a yearning to get away from it all made a movement forward al laid her and the warmth and comfort of nature. If -hands in his. CHAPTER XXV —out into the sunshine and the sweet air, she could get away into eome still, leafy place, she could think. Thorne did not accompany the party to Virginia, although it was tacitly understood Hastily arraying herself, she left her that he should follow in time for Blanche's chamber and descended the broad stairway. wedding, which would take place in June. She passed through the hall and out into the Pocahontas wished it so arranged, and sunshine of the busy street.; and Jim, vi,ho, Thorne, feeling that his love had unseen by her, was standing in the clerk's office turned and looked after come to him as through fire, was anxious her. A to order all things. according to her troubled expression, like the shadow of a wishes. He was very quiet, grave, and self - cloud, passed over his face, and he followed contained ; his old buoyancy, his old light - her silently. ness had passed away forever. The whirl A quiet street branched off from the and lash of a hurricane leave traces which crowded thoroughfare. Pocahontas tuened not even time can efface. A man does not into it and walked on. The roar of traffic come t•hrough fire unscathed—he is marred, deadened as she left it farther and farther er purified ; he is never the same. In behind ; the passers became fewer. It was Thorne, already, faintly stirred nature". the forenoon and the people were at work ; grand impulse of growth, of pressing up the houses rose tall on either hand; the ward toward the . light. He strove to be street was still and almost deserted. ' patient, tender, consider,a to take his A man passed with a barrow of flowers— happiness, what he was, not as reward roses, geraniums, jasmin ; their breath but as earnest of what he mig t become. made. the .airefragrant. In- a—etatelye-crld 41m -remained -in --News York- abicf:llo--- church near by some one was playing; a would go back to his work, he said,it would solemn, measured movement. Pocahontas be better so. He had cine north on leusi- turned aside end entered. The place was still ness for his company, and when that should' and hushed ;• the light dim and beautiful with be completed lie would return to Mexico. color; on the altar, tapers burned before the .He would not go to Virginia; he did not mother and thild ; everywhere there ,was a want to see strangers in the old heme ; he faint odor of incense. would write to his sisters and explain; no .Pocahontas wandered Ataftly hpri. ard one need_trauble aboutehimeeheewould-mart--- -- -- . there, soothed by the peace, comforted by age well enough. • the music. On one side there was. a small Poor Jim !'' He could noteas /et dis- chapel, built by piety in memory of death. associate the old from the new. To hien it Pocahontas entered it. Her, too, lights §itill seemed as though Berkeley, and, in a burped upon. the altar, shedding a soft, measure, he himself were •responsible for her golden 'radiance •tht was caught and re- life; must take care and thought for her fleeted by , the silver candlesticks and the future. Love and habit form bonds that gold and crystal of the vases. : On the steps thought does not .readily burst asunder. • of the altar was a great basket Berkeley was good to his sister—in- of roses; and through a Memorial fluenced partly by Blanche, partly by Jim, window streamed the sunlight, casting on but 'most of all by his strong affection for the tesselated pavement a royal wealth of Pocahontas herself. He drew her to his color, blue and gold and crimson; against breast and rested his cheek . against her hair the dark Walls marble tablets gleamed a moment, and kissed her tenderly; and the hitely.. Near one of therri tiny shield, brother and sister understood each other a man stood with his head' bent and his • without a spoken word. •• shoulder resting against a carved oak column He could not bring himself to be cordial —Nesbit Thorne, and the tablet bore the in_ to Thorne all at once, but he • loyally tried ,scription : "Alien Thorne, obiit Jan. 14th, to do his 'best; and Thorne was big enough 18—, aetat 4 years." to see and appreciate the effort. There . Pocahontas drew back, her breath coming might come a time when the men would be e in sheet gasps ; the movement of the friend. , music quickened; 'grew stronger, fiercer, with a crash of chords. Thorne id not move; his head was bent, his profile toward her ; about his pose, his whole form, was a look of desolation. ' His face was stern, its outlines sharp, its. .expression that of a man who had had hard measure smeted out to him, and who knew it, and mutinied against the decree. . He did not see her; he was not eonscious of her presence, and the knowledge that it was so Sent a pang through her heart. A wave of pity swept Over her ; an impulse streiggled into life, to go to him, to take his hand in hers, to press close to his sde, to fill the void of his future with herlove. What held her back? Was it pride? Why could she not go to him? His unconsciousness of her presence held her aloof—made her afraid with a strange, new fear. Footsteps neared, echoieg strangely; the music had sunk to a • minor cadence which seemed to beat the measure of their advance. The eyes of the woman were filled with a strained expectancy. Into the waiting lace, framed by the central arch, cine the iegure Of a man—strongly built, of noble air, of familiar presence. Eyes brave and true and faithful met hers gravely, a hand was Outstretched toward, her. Pocahontas shivered, and her heart beat with heavy, muffled strokes. The counter influences of her life were drawing to the death •struggle. Thorne Weed ; his eyes were upon her; he advanced slowly. Jim came straight to where she stood and tciok her hands in his; his face was pale and, drawn as the •feiee of a man who has passed through the white heat of suffering. His hands were cold, and trembled a little as they closed on hers; he tried to speak, but his lips were dry and his voice inaudible. "Sweetheart," • he said at length, using the etender old word unconsciously, and speaking brokenly, "1 asked you once to let the thought of me once—sometime— when life should be hard upon you ; ' to let - the influence of my level stir sometimes in knowledge of his pain. ' yo' ur memory. That would be wrong now ttle girl came down the walk, teund- —worse ;•it would be selfish and unmanly: hoop ; it stuck against Jim's foot and , A man has no right to cast his shadow on a er. The helpful instinct that was in : woman's life whep it has passed into the ade him stoop and lift it for her ; the . keeping of another' man." His voice grew a tiny thing, pushed 'back her curls ' husky, his lips quivereds hut he went oked up at him with grave, wide;' bravely on. ,"1 know,, your • story— yes e suddenly her face dimpled • a Berkeley has told meesthe young lady has ike sunshine broke over it, allq she spoken -.I take back the request. I'd rather her sweet lips to his, to kiss her all thonght of me should be banished from you . in this world and in the next, than that t had happened? A child's look; a it should make a breach, even in the out - kiss ; it was a strange thing. He works of your life, to let in trouble to you." his head and glanced around, passing He paused abruptly ; Through the strop d over his brow like a man aroused frame ran a shudder, like the recoil from delirium of dreams. Fortes foreign Pain ; but the man's wil was firm, his pur. away. more she gen eeel_y_ breathed. The spell of Jim's magnanimity held her, made her realize, at laee , the ii grendeur, the immensity of love. • soul -was awed. Thought followed th ught tfiropgfi het brain; love in its sublimity was bared to her gaze; she fell away—binned as dross in the fire of suffering; to guide her- self was not enough • she must aid and comfort others. If hands were outstretched gintiffdliiiiMinifiiVaitrelfeirrifieffe cried tteher in desolation, she had no right to turn.aeide. Was she so pure, .so clean, so righteous that coxiteet With another aoul —one that gad known passions and sorrows of which she was, of which she must be, ignorant -should soil her? If so, her righteousness was a poor thing, her clean- ness, that of the outside of the quo and _ • 1.• mep., .•• s.r0,1,. " Poor Mrs. Mason ! Her daughter's en- gagement was a shock, almost a blow to her, and she could not reconcile herself to it at first. The foundation seemed to be slipping from under her feet, the supports in which she trusted, to be falling away. She was a just as well as a loving woman, and she knew that the presence of a new and powerful love bringsnew responsibilities and a new outlook on life. She faithfully tried to put herself in her daughter's place and to judge of the affair from Pocahontas'. standpoint; but the effort was painful to her, and the result not always what she Could wish. --She recognized, the love being admitted, hat Thorne had claims which must be allowed; but she felt it hard that such claims should exist, and her reog- nition of them was not sufficiently full and generous to make her feel at home with her- self. Old minds adapt themselves to new conditions slowly. However, mother -love is limitless, and, through alt, her impulse was to hold to her child, to do nothing, to say nothing which wound or alienate her. And for the rest— there was no need of haste ; she could keep these things and "ponder them in her heart. THE END. 'Enjoy .11 SCOTT'S ULSION of pure Cecil Liver 011 with Hype. phoephites of Lime and Soda Is aimoat aa palatable as milk. A MARVELLOUS FLESH PRODUCER It Is Indeed, and the little lada and iassiee who take cold easily, may be fortified against a cough that might prove seriou, by taking Scott's Emulsion after their meals during the winter season. Beware of substitutions and imitations. SCOTT & .0OWNIE, Beiievilie. wonorprAcawlica.: