Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 12, Number 11, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 10 September 1881 — Page 6

«6

THE MAIL

PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

TWO WOMEN. :m

ndmi sits In her grsa&JirsMGbair mllyjurectl* the soft Hpriug air.

Through the lfttfflfcd, lilac-shadow^r! jUtfe She looks to the orchard beyond the lane. And xhe catches the gleam of a woman's

As it fluttem aBofift In die wind* ea^SW.

"That child lt&lad a* the day is loDgHer lover Kcgn)nth Iter life's a sower**' "-i A Up from theofcftar'rs flowery bloom JFloate fragrance fulnt to th?iork'nlngr room

Where grandma dream*, till a tender grace And a softer light Uaals into her face.

For once again she is young and fair. And twining rosea in her hair.

Onm agaiu, blithe an the lark above, She

only a girl, and a girl in love t"

Tbe irosjfrrirop from her their weary

h^«d in her lov&rl arms again

The last faint glimmers of daylight die Star* tremble out the parplesky.

Rre Dora flits np the garden path, Badly afraid of grandma's wrath

With rO!M»-rc4 eheek* and flying hair. She nestles down by the old arm-charm.

"Grandma—Dick w»y»— may wo—may I— The faulterlng voice grow* strangely shy.

Bat grandma prone* the little hand "Yes, my dearie—X understand!

"He may have you, darling I" Not ail in vain I)ld grandma dream she was a girl again!

Hhe gently twists a shining ear!

HAh,

me the philosophy of a gtrl!

\Talti' the worlds treasures—Its noblest, lxj*t— And love will outweigh all the rest!"

And through the casement Uie moonlight wild Btreams on two head*—one grey, one gold.

Potter's American Monthly.

A Romance of Two Summers.

UY AI.lrii WI.VHHIIV

the piazza

Kathleen Mucljeod sat on of Contoiit book opon upon lior lap, but her hands worn crossed Idly upon Its iKiges, and hor eyes wero fixation the far-ofi heights with the sunlight of tho summer morning bathing their summits and tho whilo clouds floating like angels' wings above them.

Uottugo with hor sketch

Tho slight figuro In its dainty cambric morning dress with morning glories drooping st the throat and from tho heavy braids of sunny hair, and fraihed bv tho overhanging vinos, was itself a picture |floam!)t to look upon. The small head was thrown back little, tho red lips parted, tho fair expressive face full of intense thought. No ono over eallod Kathleen MacLeod beautiful, yet hers was face that none would think of calling plain.

A little too grave and self-reliant in its expression many thought it for womanly bounty smooth, broad forehead,'oloar, gray eyes, sometimes growing dark with intense feeling, orliguting up with tenderness, or sparkling with mirth—tell-utlM eywnUiwy wmr, arm wen matched bv the 'sensitive mouth, with its short upper lip and its tender carves —a month that could bo very proud and scornful or very sweet at will. Takeh all in all it was neither a pretty nor beautiful face in the genoral acceptation of those terms*. The only really beautiful thing ttlnmt Kathleen was hor hair, a great, rippling mass of golden brown, which unbound fell about her like a •loud, but which sho usually wore, as now, brushed simply back from hor face and wound in heavy braids around tho small head like a coronet, it was a "great bother." this hair of hers, to

Kathleen In her school days, and once she crept uwnv quite unknown to any ono and had ItVut short, and wore it for months in close, curling rings about hor head but it grow again more luxuriant than ever, and it* o\vner grew to young ladyhood with iior lovely hair rather a burden to her than otherwise. Recently sho had begun to care for it liltlo atld to take a girlish prido in Its arrangement. Was it so wonderful.she thought, lotting it down in a Hood of glory about her one day. To bo sure. ioopl» had been telling" her HO, over since she could remonlsn-, hut she never had thought much about it. As with one of Mrs. Whitney's characters, "Hair was a matter of course the thing was to get it out of the way!"

But a few evenings since, as thoy sat together on thepiaxxa watching the sunset, the last golden gleam had lighted up the rich braids with (landing beauty,and Mark Delavan, bending down, had touched them lightly, saying apologetically, "I leg vour pardon, but it is won* dentil—your "hair! !H you know how beautiful it is?"

And Mrs. Arbuthnot, coming up beixind her just then, and hearing the wonts, alvly pulled out the little tortoise shell comb, and let tho long braids fall In all their golden beauty about Kathleen's shoulders, much to her oonfuslon and Mark's evident delight. "And It's all real, Mr. Ielavan—think of it!" said Mrs. Arbuthnot. Mark bowed. *.

He had known that, because oc hud known Kathleen. There could be nothing unreal abont her. The true, straightforward, sweet, pure nature of the girl, go utterly free from all shams or petty affectation*, was evident to any hut the most superficial obaerrar, and that Mark Delavan was most certainly not. He was out on the plsssa this morning, os tenslbelv engaged in reading the paper of two days previous— the "latest news" in this lutle mountain hamlet,—but really doing nothing of the sort. In fact, he was looking quietly oter the vop—not at the purple mountain height*, but at the fair, rapt face opposite him. hi

He had been watching that face for along time, with a little smile abont the Hps, and a sender light in the grave eves. \%*s no one by, and Mr. lel*van was doing a little day-draining, appar^ •Qtlr,— K*thhvn. $»*», perhaps—but audaenly, as if drawn by some magnetic impulse, she turned aud met the ewi that were regarding her with stwh a world of tenderm«?aulng in 5h*nrdej:h*. Thoae «y«w neither wavered u»»r«-h.niged, but caught her own and held them for a moment with a look that was almoat a oarras, and which no woman on whom fell could ever misunderstand or tor» getv

It was but an instant that Kathleen's own oyea drooped, and a flood of crimeon rushed over her face. She took up her p*ucU and b^n to work rapidly.

Mark Deievan en si again, and H»* tni, after a mon ••t'o irnas^ walked awayp «intie to theoUterefidof Uief ««ta for fatt'-letktt^tiur Vs iit aw^yaetoaa 1l»e val 'K was ootwardlv wmjxwd again when he CMPlark and »t«x»-i by Iter aide, hut she as If aotu

Kathleen was beautiful at that moment, with the beauty of youth, health and happiness.

They walked away with a rapid, easy pace. Both were good walkers, and had had much practice in pedestnanlsm— and other things too—that Snmmor.

Kathleen MacLeod wasan orphan, and had taken care of herself from childhood that is, she had lived with an old aunt of her father's, who nominally had the care of hor but Kathlaen was very young whon she began to take care of Aunt Mary and herself too. Sho had little property. It barely sufficed to give her the education she so eagerly craved, but she had graduated from Vassal- with health and energy and ambition enough to insure to her success in whatovershe chose to undertakob She had rare artistic talent, and meant to bean artist someday but she could not leave Aunt Mary, now old and feeble, to pursue her studies abroad so for two years, at the time our story opens, sho had taught drawing and paintlnginthe Young Ladies' Seminary at Quiuticook, her childhood's home, taking lessons all the while of celebrated artist in the neighboring city.

Mrs. Morris, tho mistress of Content Cottage, was an old friend of Kathloen's doud mother, and had invited the yonng teaelioqto spend tho long vacatiouat her homo among the Now Hampshire hills, Aunt Mary maun while going to hor sister's, in Connecticut.

Among thetQdtintains everybody who does not keep hotel takes "summer boarders," ana whenJCathleen arrived at imr atwuinmvii, uliTf w*w*r«he found that Mrs. Morris was no ex•option to tho general rule. Early as it was in tho season, Professor Arbuthnot and his wife wore quietly settled down for the summer under hor hospitable roof. With them were their two children, and in a few days they wore joined by Mark Dclavon, an old friend of Professor Arbuthnot's. The two had studied together In Germany, and woro almost like brothers, Mrs. Arbuthnot told Kath-

lepn*

udiflTerent to her. Profossor Arbuthnot and his wifo were a very devoted couple. They were quite engrossed in each other and in their two lovely children, and naturally enough Mr. Delavan and Miss MacLeod wore often left to entertain each other.

Content Cottage was a little aside from tho great tide or mountain travel, and none of tho four visitors wero pleasure seekers, in tho ordinary sense of the term.

Professor Arbuthnot was somewhat of an invalid, and had come thither seeking health and rest, audKathleon hoped to mako many additions to her portfolio and to glean rich treasures for futuro use among the grand scenery of the mountains. They had pleasant littlo picnics and delicious rides together, those four and Miss MacLo and Mr. Delavan took long tritnips over hill and dale, finding their reward in bits of rare beauty, of rock and waterfall and valley, which escaped the ordinary tourtat*

Thrown together so constantly, living under tho same roof, and so often dependent upon each other

went on with her sketching, not trusting herself to look op. Her companion waited, watching the •mail, nervous hands for a moment then he said gently, and quite in his srdinary tone: 'Miss Kathleen, are you never going" inf.". .. to speak to me again? Bfgcagae in that Picking the p*pferAshe began lookcase it becomes my pressing and painful

dnty to remind yon that nine a. m^ was the time' fixed for our *ralk to the" Ridge, and it is precisely that time now," holding his watch before her eyes as he

spoke. Kathleen looked at him with a little smile. •'I was trained up in the good old way, Mr. Delavan—to speak when spoken to," she answered, gaily. "Think you for reminding me. I will be ready in five minutes."

And she sprang up and ran into the house. The fire minutes were not quite expired when Miss MacLeod came trip ping down the stairs In her short walking suit of nary-blue flannel, and broad sun-hat of coarse ertraw covering her golden braids and shading her bright face

As the two went down the path, Mrs. Arbuthnot, watching them from a win dow, smiled, and called her husband to see.

How well they look together!" she said. Mark Delavan was a fiue type of manhood. A superb figure, six feet in height, broad-shouldered, and erect a pure, Haxon face, with clear, straight, glancing eyes, and a fine, resolute mouth a rather atern face to the casual observer, but lighting up wonderfully when he smiled, as he was smiling then, upon the girl at his side

Kathleen's bead scarcely reached his shoulder. Hor short skirt, just reaching the top of the high walking-boots, ana tho loose "sailor'" waist, were wonderfully becoming to the slight, graceful figuro, and the dash of brilliant cardinal in the trimmings, and the loose knot of soft silk at her throat, lighted up the exresslve face. In the highest sense,

Mrs. Arbuthnot was a niorry, chatty little woman, and took a great fancy to Kathleen. The Professor was vory kind and courteous to her, and Mark Delavan —woll, that gentleman

was

certainly not

for

society, was

ft strange if, in two months, thev had trown to be vory good friends? Kath.eon MacLeod, In her unworldly simplicity, had thought of nothing more. Sho was at once a teacher and a student, and she had put her whole heart into her work. She meant to be an artist, and she believed herself wedded to her art. 80 that moment on the piassa, when she had met Mark Delavan's eyes, was to her a moment of revelation—a revelation so sudden, so half unwelcome, yet so strangely sweet, that she was at once bewildered, happy, and half indignant.

She was not quite ready to

yield

the

dsy, and to cry "surrender" to this bold lover who came knocking at the citadel of her heart. All the way over to the Ilidge, that morning, she talked gaily, carefully steering clear of anything that could give her oompaakm a pretext for a woro of tenderness. Mark, on his part, was very quiet, and onco or twice die caught a slightly-pained look to the blue eyes, but he was verv patient. Patience was on.* of Mark Delavan*s characteristic*. rpon the Ridge it was very lovely, that dar. Kathleen forgot to talk as she sat looking acroas the green valley to the opposite height*. Mark, who lying on the grasa at her feet, was silent' |0|)

Suddenly he drew out the paper which he had been pretending momiag, and began to search Iks eol-

""Thitd almost forgottln,* he irtd. *1 have to go to Boston io meet aone friends to-night I wonder what train I must take1?" *^r

He satisfied himself on the point, and threw the paper down with anexprea-

How can it, when I am ooming back tomorrow night?" he went on, somewhat irrelevantly. 'Something is happening most days," quoted Kathleen, merrily. "That fact may poasibiy account for your forebod-

now and then, comments on

ing It over, reading a bi and interspersing spi "current events."

She came to something by and by that really interested her. and was silent. It was not long after too news of the horrible "Bulgarian atrocitiea," and the papers teemed with denunciations and demands for justice. There wasan able article on the sympathy and aid which the Kngjisli government had in the past rendered to the Turksf and an eloquent arragnment of that nation for the timeserving policy which had characterized it.

Kathleen had inherited from her Scotch grandfather a warm dislike for everything English, and to this waaadded the natural indignation of a generous spirit, and an Instinctive readiness to champion the oppressed and to do battle for the weak against the strong.

Mark Delavan, watching her face, saw the gray eyes kindle and the cheeks glow aud ne smiled quietly. But Kathleen did not look up. Instead, she read aloud one particularly sharp paragraph, and added a few scornful words of her own with eloquent, flashing eyes and asuperbcurl of the lip. but his

Mark'Delavan did not reply, faoe grew grave. Kathleen laid down the paper and clasped hex: qm^ll hands overit. "'0 England, England, Albion perflde She quoted slowlv in clear, bitter accents.

Mark answered presently: "It is true, Miss Kathleen, England has sold her birthright she is too often in these latter years on the side of oppression and wrong yet I think you are not quite right in saying that ail true men among her people will disown and abandon the country so lost to her noble mission. Is it not true philosophy for Englishmen to be Englishmen still, and by high aims and pure lives, by fearless worps and brave deeds for their country and their to strive to lift up and bring baek, step by step, to her old place among the nations tne England we love? If our country has fallen so low, so much the more doe.s she need the best of our lives and our service." He spoke earnestly, but Kathleen scarcely heeded the words.

Suddenly, by one of those quick flashes of memory which come to us all some times, she became aware that all unconsciously she had been very rude and unkind. For with Mark's first words she remembered that in the first days of thoir acquaintance Mrs. Arbuthnot had ono day casually mentioned that he was English.

All unwittingly she had been guilty of a terrible breach of good manners and good taste, to atrr nothing of the rights of friendship, fier face grew scarlet, aud quick tears of regret sprang to her oyes. She leanod forward as he finished speaking, and held out her hands imploringly "Oh, Mr. Dolavan!" sho cried, forgive mo, please, forgive me what must you think of me Indeed, I did not knowthat is, I quite forgot—that it is your country. 1 would not have said it for the world do you know I would neve| never forgive anyone for speaking p'' America, though she might b* °ve bad. I am so sorry!"

Mark. Delavan smiled, and 1«"»»| forward took the little hands in his held them closely^ ly""you make too much of it 5 Itls afl true—I hope I know my country's faults. Of course you would not have said it—blessings on your tender heart. Forgive you he repeated "there is nothing to forgive. 'What must 1 think of you?' Will yon let me tell you, doar? No, no!" as Kathleen tried to draw her hands away. "I will not annoy you only tell me that you do not quite hato us all that I need not quite loso you, because I have tho misfortune to be an Englishman." 'You know I did uot mean she began, and then stopped in confusion, not quito knowing how much she was admitting.

Mark laughed softly. "No I know you did not. Thero, I will not tease vou and Mark Delavan lifted the hands he held to his lips and kissod them, and let them go gently.

Later they had lunch and along ramble through tho woods, and it was three o'clock when they reachod home. They had a rather quiet walk, neither being in the mood for talking and quite past that stage of acquaintance whon conversation is a necessity. As they neared Content Cottage, Mark looked at his watch and laid bis hand on ono Kath-

l6"IMay

I detain you a moment?" ho

said, drawing her gently behind a clump of lilacs which screened them from observation. "I must go in an hour, in order to catch the stage that connects with the six p. m. train, and I may not see vou again before I start. I wish I need" not go—I have an unpleasant feeling about it." And tho perplexed look of the morning crossed his brow

Kathleen looked up with quick symathy. "Do you expect bad news? there anything that causes you to fear?" ahe asked. "Oh, no it la only an indefinable de presaion whenever I think of it: yet I think I must go, I cannot see mjr way clear to do otherwise," he said thoughtfully. "Kathleen, if anything happens, if I do not come back

""But I shall aee yon %aiat" aald

K^YeaTperhape

way

yoo'llnd It?" asked Kathleen, in-

uh^Jes. nt» There is tint enough. I 1 feel at

SU m. There Sa time what have 1 aaxi wbihl need not go, Hkonogn. nnxionftly. '-'-king fror- 'v,, "Xothfng, noUdng but whj will hap feeily proper, my «Ud," be

before all the family.

Dear, won't you give me one lima aut word that shall lw all my own before

''sho'tHit her hand in bis gently, and looked straight npbrW hb face. "Uoodbve," she said, with a little smile. "Is that all he said wearily, "forgive me-, I am

«acU«^f^ow,JL

& .:-?**

terse ha.utblba.tubday EVENING MAIll

aniline •Oood-b' ye, dear!"

his arm, walked Miss Kathleen around by the garden path into the house. She went up-stairs without venturing another glance into his face, and did not come down again until just five minutes before four. Then, fearing lest her absence would be notioed by tho others, she ran down all, fresh and fair, in her white dress, and stood with the Arbuthnots on the piazza to see him off.

Afterward came supper, and and then she romped with the children, and finally went up stairs to bed at nine o'clock, a little tired, but with a very light heart, and at nine the next morning—she was standing with her pale face reading a telegram which one of the boys bad handed ber. It was as follows: "four aunt is very sick. Come at once." She read it through mechanically, looked at her watch, and hunted up a time table, found that the next train West left at one o'clock, and that she had two hours in which to do her packing, and went to tell the Arbuthnots' and Mrs. Morris. 'Dear Aunt Mary! she had been like mother to the orphan girl, and Kathleen's heart was torn with the vague anxiety and fear that unknown anticipated sorrow brings, and eagerly anxious to reach her as soon as possible but she would not have been human, had not another thought even at this moment intruded itself, adding its bitter sting to make her departure more painful. She blamed herself for the thought, yet it was hard to go just now without seeing Mark Delavan again. For she had not intended that the answer, or rather tho po answer that she had given him the night before, should be a final one she tiaa only meant to delay a little, to gain time to think, before she entirely surrendered hor freedom. Yet, after all, did it matter much? If Mark Delavan really loved her, he would not give her up easily. She would leave a little note for him explaining her sud and he would understand. So sho quieted tho pain at her heart, and when all her preparations were completed sat down to write her note. It was a very discreet little note. "MY DKAK MR. DBLAVAN: I

For a few days, hands and heart and brain were fully occupied, and the girl had no time to think, which was, perhaps, quite as well. Under her tender care, the sick one came gradually back to life, helpless still as a little child, but quite conscious and free from P~n Doctor Lancaster said she might live weeks, perhaps months, in that state.

And now that the first fierce strain of care and anxiety and constant watching was lifted from her heart, Kathleen began to wonder why she got no letters. She knew mark Delavan too well to think that be would give her up so easily. She loved him too well to lose faith in him. That he loved hei, she would not doubt. She knew the patient, persistent, steadfast nature, and she never doubted that he would write to her, perhaps would come to her. A week went ijy, and still no tidln Sitting one day thinking it over, she "suddenly remembered that by some strange oversight she bad forgotten to

K-thlASn har-h»an"on be* note, or to the ArbuthMr SSavaS" note, or even to Mra. Morris, the name

ffihetuTed .^ be^to hide ofthepl.ee in Connecticut where Aunt the quick team that ware trembling on her lashes*

the place

Mark was silent for an instant, a little punlod and grieved, but j* touched the drooping heaa softly. She bad taken off her hai and was swinging It In one band as she atood before him. "Forgive me," be said very gently, I was wrong to trouble you with my foolish fears. Will you say good-bye to me

^ilite^T^tWtobamy^d ber at her word wb*» ahe^ked -that friend always, only cl«nt

talk

in that

about-abont—not

coming back.

you are coming back to-motrow, are ^"I^hope so, I trust so," said Mark Delavan fervently, with a curious light coming suddenly over tbe clouded and in atone so mock naore bopefnltbat Kathleen look- up

ilnA

"(tt. what have I said ma «neo

what was peranswered,

IIS!M

«it§p

Mary was stopping. Fer a moment bar oeart stood still* Then she remembered that Mrs. Morris knew her Quinticook addresses, and that letters would probably be sent there with the request that they be romailed to ber. So she

tiently. Still no letters. Weeks grew red on

est of'cares to Kathleen, who never faltered in ber tender ministry, aad ktfpt alwava a brave, bright faee and cheerful tone and sweet smile for the wick-room, and BMW wavered, thou ber heart was breaking with the dool strain of sorrow and suspense, and that "hope deferred that maketh the heart sick."

Still there was no word from her lover. Had his forebudtags proved lever returned from true, and had be never

k*now. Am I so diaag Kathleen f' ••No, no indeed, I Kaib-i that* trip to Barton from which be had please don't tliink r"Mpoor j^*2|rtlTOl|k^o? Orhad be, after all, taken ten. "I o.nlr ber at her word wb€i die iaked be might be tber good friend always and

was be, than, *nt«ot to be only that and nothing more? Yet be was hardly acting tbe part of friendship even thus leaving ber in ber loneliness and sorrow without one word of sympathy or kindly interest.

And sometimes, in snfteof ber living woman's faith, a darker suspicion would come. Had be, feriupa, onlv been playing with ber? Had her sud den departure give Mm an easy solo tion to what was becoming a rather

SMI!

/rri ,*M-*

the punled eyes

"Good-bye," she answered, half doubtingly ana Mark looked down into the sweet, questioning face a moment with grave tenderness then, stooping, just touched the fair forehead with his lips, and, drawing the hand he held within walked

write to

gay 'Good-byo.' My aunt is very sick ut her sister's, in Connecticut, ana I

have

received a telegram, and must go to her tt once. I

leave here on the one p. m.

train for Boston.

am sorry not to see

you again, but want to thank you for all your kindness to me, and ask you to forive me for everything

have said or

one to grieve you. "Believe me,"ever your friend, "KATHLEEN MACLKOD." She carried it down and rave it to Mrs. Arbuthnot. Then she saia good-byo to all the family, and climbed into the farm wagon that was to take her to meet the stage. It was a long, tedious ride, and late in the evening Kathleen stepped out upoii the platform at the little way station which was her destination.

A man with a lantern raised aloft was looking eagerly for some one, and, seeing Kathleen," came instantly toward her. "Miss MacLeod?" ho said interrog"Yes," ant? i»t

ttn\

Enoch Quint, rm«*M they sent me to meet you mj

Ksked

J^tn Wright here. Any •But my aunt—how is she? tfatflleon anxiously. jMAbout the same don't speak or move—doctor has hopes, though. This ay, miss." ,,

Ten minutes later Kathleen was jolting over a rough country road that seemed to be all the way up hill, and a ride of throe miles in tho starlit summer night brought her to the house of Mrs.

°Thls lady was a half-sister to Aunt Mary, much younger than the latter, a stirring, energetic Yankee woman, who. since the death of her husband, had managed her large farm with consummate ability with the help of her "hired man," tho Enoch Quint previously mentioned. A thoroughly kind-hearted woman, and a good neighbor, she was et, as she told Kathleen, "no nurse," laving had little experience in sickness and lacking that inborn faculty which some women possess naturally, and education in tho caro of whitlj an supply. giau to rellnbuisn ber charge into Kathleen's hands, and the latter at once took her place as nurse.

r-rp

troublesome question? She had heard of such things. But no one who knew Mark Delavan could believe such a thin: possible, still less the woman who love him. More than most men, he impressed upon every one his perfect, straightforward, uncompromising integrity. His was jpre-eminently the face •'True and fencfer'nnd brave and just," That man might honor and woman truat.

And this woman, upon whose fbrow his kiss had fallen, never faltered in her fhith, though her cheeks &rew pale and the light faded from her eyes, and her heart grew very weak and* weary from its long waiting.

Winter came, and the snow fell dose Iv about the lonely farm-house, and there were short, sharp days and long, sorrowful nights. Katheen brought her easel into the sick-room, and in her fewbrief intervals of leisure worked away At her brush, "to keep busy," she saia, when good Dr. Lancaster expostulated with ber.

The doctor shook his head he did not know the sharp pain at the girl's heart, that made it necessary for her to "keep busy," that she might not think.

When the first bright days of spring came and the suows were melting from the brown hillocks beneath the April sun, Aunt Mary's summons came, and she entered upon the eternal springtime. Kathleen's long watching was over and she was alone in the world.

She went down to Quinnook and laid Aunt Mary in the old church-yard, where all the MacLeods slept. Then Bhe went back to the old house, her only home, to rest for a few days and to plan for the future—the dark'.desolate days that stretched before her, and that must be lived—somehow. Friends came about her, old schoolmates aud neighbors, and would have welcomed ber to their homes, but she steadily refused. She wanted to be alone in those first desolate days.

Her old plaoe in the seminary was filled. There was nothing for her to do in Quintnook, and work must be sought elsewhere.

She was at liberty now to carry out a long cherished plan of going abroad to study, but Aunt Mary's long illness, and the consequent idleness, had made sad inroads on her slender funds. A year of patient and paying work would be necessary before she could venture to carry out her purpose.

But she was ready to work not, indeed, with the old girlish euthusiasm and ambition, but still with a steady purpose and a noble uiiu» Since live sho must, it should not be a useless life. If the sweetest earthly blessing was denied ber, she could yet show to an incredulous world "How grand may bio life's might,

Without love's circling crown." "I thought once that I did not care forjhim," she said to herself in those days. "I meant to live for my art,—to do grand work aud win a name.—and God has taken mo at my word. He has just shown 1110 how beautiful life might be Ho has lot mo see the worth of that which I esteemed of littlo value, and now he has taken it away ana given me my choice. I was not worthy, and I will "be patient, and by and by, perhaps, content." But a little comfort came to her at this time. She learned that her order, requesting letters sent to Chequishnoc, had never beau received at Quintnook post-office, and therefore, alLher letters had been sent to the Dead"Thlere* wer^M®™

being

that sho might throw some light on the strange occurrence hut tbe girl turned

away

indifferently and began to talk of something else. But the bitterness of her cup was gone. He had loved her then—he had tried to And her, and she knew he would never give up the search. Living or dying, they lovod each other, and no time or space could quite part tbem. Somer timeTperbaps, in this world, or beyond, thev would find one another. Meanwhile, she would wait. Almost happy, she repeated to herself a little snateh of ha he ha on

Besansel am my love's I'll keep my life Washed claan of every soil In thought or And bear my heart with ever *«cadfwthecd Tiktm nhut rose, through day"

CCTbenext

imJ

'!'.' ?ia'L'ili!.'^j|! ^r.r!i':x ".'r: j'i* J?»~

of so

manJ un"

mapter said, in answer to liar inquiry, looking musingly over his glasses "I doiPtyjustly luiow how many. I beliovo there was a gentleman here inquiring *lxut them, too, and about your address, but it was while 1 was gono to Philadelphia, and Sim Higgins was here, and he didn know, nor I, either, for that matter." And one of hor old neighbors told hor that twice a gentleman had called there,

door to her old home, and in

quired about her, and the name of the plaoe where Auut Mary went. "But I couldn't remember it to save me, dear, nor Hezekiali, neither it was a kind of outlandish nAme yon know. He was a tall man with a light moustache, and eyes Ithat looked right through you,— handsome, if he hadn't lookedso downhearted like, and he walked all around the old house and sat down on the doorstep and sat there along time. The first time was in October* I roinoraber lecause it was the day after wo had the sewing-circle and tho last time let me seo—December! 110—it must have been about New Year's, and he stayed along time, and seemed to hale to go away, and asked if he could get boarded here, or anywhere in town, and said perhaps he should come back, but be never has." The good lady looked curiously at Kathleen as she concluded, as if hoping

As lovers might—to But 111 so lfve» tha^ My love shall say,' mine.'"

«l*M»ay rt«»e.

Because 1 am roy Love* 1 11 rise at dawn And hasten to my »n.d tlJSL That from my oWfc poor talent there may Some"Eimf for my Love's eyes to shine upon And to make food the fmpty^yearsagone. Beeause I am my I/rvsli 1 yo my ieaiiy» some distant time

Going back to her lonely house, she found a letter from Doctor ^noasier. at Chequishnoc. He aaked if »be bad anything spedal in view in tbe way of work: abe ought to rest, but he sup* noeedsbe wattS not if hot, why their assistant teacher at tbe

hSAh"J^bf(^t

*h^

just getting married won Id place for the spring term? £lw could board in hie family the work was not bard—small school—fair pay—tiBM^to paint, or, better still, to rest-would she

day abe was on ber

a week aaw ber qniet at home in Doctor Lancaster's pleasant fsmily. He bads lovely wife and two daughters, bright,

New England girls. One of them SS^dJTtakf drawing lessons of ber, aml^by teaching ber Kathleen could pay grew almost ^*en*edj" the new, restful home atmosphere with yielding to the inevitable, which *»**j moat sad in one so young. tweutv-four, and she seemed to have bar life. Patient, brave, and bope-

fnT'sbewMatill even merry sometime aaJ

one ^apected tbe Siden

that darkened tbe young Ufa. No one, save perhaps, IDoctor Lancaster, who, witlitiflKt insiahtofhis P^f®?*1011. sometimes watched ber closely .and slbly read in the pale and

Ckmtinued cm Seventh Pagt

REEK

ILT EDG

IS A THOROUGH REMEDY

In every case of Fever and Ague, whilo for Disorders of tho Stomach, Torpidity of the Liver, Indigestion and disturbances of the Animal force*, which dobllitatc, it has no equivalent and ean have no substitute. It should not be ooufounded with the triturate compounds of cheap spirits and essential oils often sold under the name of Bitters.

Fred H. Kataenbach, Wine and Spirit Merchant, holosale agent, No, 218 south Fourth street, Terre Hauto, Ind.

Moore's (Lens Shaped) 1 Sugar Coated

rilules

Sure Core for Chills 50.50. Tho Great Malarja^ntldote. Sold by Druggists, or Dr. C. Moore^^T!ort!andt"St. New York.

IavaliuiU« to ovary fiuailf,

MART'S

VEGETABLE

ONLYONF FOR A DOSE

Tho RXXKHAnT MKIMi'INK CO., Trojr.O. Bttce. iSrtt. 'OK SA1-K

IIV ALI. DKAI.ICK.V

MALARIAL JROISON.

at this time of tho dlsontered Liver, which, If not ^TtntrnrrBP time, greatsufforlnR, wretchcdncsM and floatn wiU onsue. A geniIonian, writing from South America, «ayn:"I liavo unod y»«r Simmons Liver Regulator with good both as a prevention and cure for Malarial Fevers on the Isthmus of Panama.' if you feel drowsy, debilitated, havo mousnt headache, mouth taxtcs hadly, pxr appetite and tongue coated, you aresunorlng from torpid liver or "biliousness," and nothing will cure you so speedily and permanently as to take

Simmons Liyer Regulator

It is given with safety and the happlent reso Its to the most delicate infant. ItUikwthj! Place of quinine and bitten* of every kind,

Is the cheapest, purest and best family medicine In tho world. HOLD BY ALL BRUOGIHTH.

Buy the Genuine in White Wmpper, with red Z, prepared only by J. H. Zeilin A Co

BITTERS

A Compound Tincture of the most valuable remedies known to the medical profession, prepared upon strictly pharmaoeutloalprinolples.

An «rp«ri»ne* of twentj-firo m1*

orw»

God, who made you

with which to serve Rateseheap.

tb» Aatidote to MaJari* and «I1 otoor

Ago*

4 a MHiftn

lEtfr,"*"

onljabiotwl*

OMT«

for*all

iwjlli

In Livi—

In Liver Com pi Uie flow* ijinny

iersof the Thrwi

tion* to the fnaiola MS ii bM no

tj/ieaHmtt,

whila

rtmiedy for MmpUtnU p*oolis»

NOT A BEVERAGE Bat nil old. rellji

JeJjfesselMld BetBe4yc lh» utonSffiT ii

a--

In uwtofBKTU th»n

free to aor «dd«ws H«M .ITT.WOO. LMMMWff rl«

ICE!

•i a

*f, We have a large supply of

SUPEBIOR ICE

LOST*orders

at offlcc,SLL MHJn

isisnt. or hand to driver.

L.F.PEBDUB.

Taa*HAinr* las Ce.

aarWe have Telephone connection.

The Indiana University.

BLOOMIXOTON,

INI),

Ootlege Year begins Sept. 1st, MM. lon Kree. Both sexes titled on equal condition*. For cWtognej^gther Informatkm.addrw*.

'LKMUEL MOHH, PrssidenL

W.W.8PA5GLER, Secretary.

at home. Haraple* I free. Address Portland, Mains.

*5to$20£^»» BnWOl *C0 Pant