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For Woman’s Work.
A BIRTHDAY OFFERING.
BERTHA H. STEWART.
The years roll on in their ceaseless round,
Flowers blossom and wither and die;
But no withered buds in her heart are found,
Time smiles as he passes them by,
And murmurs,“ Not yet, I will leave them alone,
They are far too fair to kill,
I will wait until they are fuller blown,
And then I shall garner at will.”
So he goes on, and her beauties grow
Sweeter and fairer each day;
I should like to a.-k Time if he does but know
That he never can take them away.
For the flowers that grow in one good heart,
Ere their beauty and life be spent,
To some other life will their seed impart—
Their living fragrance have lent.
Ah, dear! Time is kind,so be kind to Time,
There are those in the world today
Who bartered the hours of youth sublime,
And are fading in sorrow away.
There are so many hearts full of tears unshed,
Pleading for Time’s “ not yet.”
The dearest thought of a day that is dead,
Is the oue which recalls no regret.
For Woman’s Work.
MURIEL.
A Tale of the Sixteenth Century
VEN though I be one of the
“reformed,” it need make no
difference to you. We both
worship the same God, but in
different ways, and I promise
1
you never to interfere with your devo
tions.”
“ Oh, Louis, this is terrible! It is what I
have dreaded. Did not Madame de Clune
insure me that she had seen the young
Lord de Montluc coming from a conventi
cle, conversing with one of the most deter
mined Huguenots? But I would not be
lieve it. I wag sure she must have mistak
en you. Tell me this is merely a horrid
nightmare, or that you are saying this
simply to test me. Anything, anything
but that it is the truth.”
Louis had grown pale to the very lips,
as he listened to Muriel’s impetuous out
break, “ My beloved, although I hold all
earthly honor, all earthly joy, as worse
than empty and desolate without you, yet
I cannot give up the knowledge I have
gained during the last few weeks, even if
the price be your love.”
Muiiel turned to him mournfully, “ Alas 1
Louis, it is yours, and I cannot withdraw
it, even if I would.”
Louis drew the slight figure towards
him; “Why should you withdraw it?
Ere the morrow’s sun sets, an indissoluble
treaty will have been sealed, that no earth
ly power can or will unbind.”
“ Ah, you do not understand! It would
be like betraying my trust, for it would be
betraying my faith.”
Meantime, Madame Seronye had not
been unaware of the little scene that was
being enacted in the window seat.
She had purposely given Louis the op
portunity of seeing Muriel alone, for she
too had heard of the change in his religious
views from one whom she could not doubt,
and had deemed it best that Muriel should
learn the truth from no other lips than his.
Being thoroughly impregnated with the
idea of the old religion, she had been de
lighted, when she found that Muriel
was as sincere a devotee as herself.
In her inmost heart, she could but
pity these two, of whom she had grown
very fond, knowing too well that Louis’
high nature would never stoop to deceit,
and that Muriel would never ally herself
with one who differed with her in so es
sential a point.
Thinking that the interview granted
was surely long enough, Madame Seronye
drew aside the curtains, saying: “ Ah, ma
mignon, the roses will utterly leave your
cheeks, if you do not guard them better!
ft is far past our usual hour of retiring,”
then turning playfully to Louis, “ Fie upon
you, Monsieur Louis, for not taking better
care of my niece!” she laughingly with
drew.
Long did Louis gaze after them, and as
they disappeared among the crowd,he mur
mured, “God knows I would stand be
, tween her and every sorrow!” and then
came over him an utter sense of his desola
tion, if Muriel should keep her word, and
he knew her too well to doubt that she
would. Silently he overcame, one by
one, the manifold temptations of the evil
one; and a stranger, glancing at the tall
soldierly man, with the stern, set face,
would never dream of the conflict that was
raging so wildly within.
The days sped into weeks, and the weeks
into months; but to some, it seemed as if
Father Time had weighted his feet with
lead. Outwardly all was harmony, all
was peace, but those who knew best felt
that it was but the lull before the tempest,
and took precautions to prepare themselves
against its fury.
The marriage of Henry of Navarre with
the king’s sister, Marguerite, had taken
place on the eighteenth of August, and the
Guises had returned. All felt that a crisis
was at hand, but few even imagined what
a crisis!
Seated in her charming boudoir is Mu
riel. She is wan and pale; the sorrows of
the last few months have weighed heavily
upon her, for unlike Louis, she had not
his fountain of comfort to draw from.
From day to day, she had heard tales of
shocking wrongs done in the name of
Mother Church,” and her firm faith was
beginning to totter. But the night before
she had been the agonized eavesdropper
of a whispered dialogue, the fearful mean
ing of which, she could but under
stand. She never knew how her trembling
limbs bore her to her own apartments, but
she could not afford to give way, and,
ringing a bell, she ordered a trusted page
to deliver the hasty little note she had
written to no other hands than those of
the Lord de Montluc.
She is awaiting impatiently, now, the in
terview which she had solicited. A firm
step from without draws near, and, after
a gentle rap, the door opens, admitting
Louis.
Muriel rises quickly, and Louis steps to
her side. “ You sent for me, Muriel, and
lam here. Can I be of any service to
you ? ’ He marks with pain the sad
curves about the usually smiling lips, and
the eyes that look as if sleep was a stranger
to them. A flood of passionate longing
sweeps over him, and taking her in his
arms, he holds her closely to him. For a few
moments the silence is only broken by the
humming of an insect, as it wanders aim
lessly about the room, searching for an exit
into the bright, beautiful world without.
Finally Muriel rouses herself, “ Louis, you
must promise to do something for me, that
no one but yourself can do.”
“You know m'ami, that lam entirely
at your command. What is this great
thing ?”
Muriel looked at him beseechingly.
“ Promise me that to-morrow, if you go
abroad, or even if you stay at home, to
wear this small token on your left arm;”
and she held toward him a snowy handker
chief. She was about to tie it on, when
Louis, with a gentle force, made her desist.
“ I must first know why it is on the
morrow, that you are so anxious for me to
wear this badge.”
’ “ Ah, Louis! is that the way for a gal
lant knight to object to wear his lady’s
colors ?”
Muriel’s voice strove to be playful, but
the anxiety she could not suppress was
only too plainly portrayed in every fea
ture.
Louis gazed earnestly into the pleading
face and answered firmly :
“It was for no slight whim that you
summoned me with so much haste to your
presence. Tell me what evil you fear,
what danger that may be averted by wear
ing this dear token ?”
“ Louis, I have from alas ! too good au
thority, that ere two more suns shall set,
not a Huguenot will be found in France.
There is to be a general massacre, and the
white handkerchief is the distinguishing
badge—all wearing it will be safe. I im
plore you on my knees to please me in
this. It is but a little thing I ask of you.”
Muriel spoke with the energy of despair,
for she felt too sure that Louis would never
accede.
“ Is it then a little thing to desert one’s
post in danger ? Is it nothing lor a man
to save his mere life nt the expense of his
honor? My beloved, you ask for that
which is dearer to me than life.”
She clung to him wildly. “ You do not
understand what you say ; you are wilfully
courting death by refusing to grant this
simple request in which there is no dis
honor.”
His heart bleeds for her as he answers in
a low tone, “ My love, the dishonor is not
in the wearing; it is the purpose which
sullies it. If you had asked for a boon
that would have cost me my life, it should
have been yours gladly, but this which
you desire is not in my power to give.”
The young girl leans wearily against a
table; she knew all further urging was
useless, and now only remained the fare
well, which seemed as if it must crush her
very heart. He folded her in his arms in
one silent, lingering embrace—words were
needless to them.
*****
“ Muriel, my dear child, where are you
going out in this chilly air ? Without any
wrap,too! Really you are most imprudent!”
and Madame Seronye ccmes hastily to
ward her with a soft, woollen shawl, which
she places about her shoulders.
Time has dealt very gently in the year
that has elapsed with the elder lady, and
there is an expression of peace there which
was wanting before.
“ Dear Sante, you are always sothought-
WOMAN’S WORK.
ful of your heedless charge,” and Muriel
kissed warmly her blooming cheek, “ I am
just going down to bid adieu to Madame
Leclere; I shall not be long; and she
moved slowly away.
During that last, terrible week in Paris,
Muriel had waited eagerly, hoping against
hope that Louis might be saved, but as
the days dragged slowly by and she re
ceived no tidings of him, she felt that they
would never meet on earth again. The
horrors then committed in the name of her
religion, broke down the last stronghold,
and she and her aunt together, in their
adversity, had learned of Him, and had re
ceived the promised “ peace unto their
souls.”
They had heard of the demolition
of the old chateau by soldiers, who
were regardless of aught but plun
der, and they knew not where to go,
for further sojourn in Paris was danger
ous. At last some Huguenot friends sug
gested Rochelle, and thither they had
come, and been most kindly welcomed by
others of the “ Faith.” Muriel, always
delicate, had finally succumbed to an ener
vating fever, and for many weeks her life
hung in the balance. She was now slowly
recovering, and the doctors had ordered an
entire change of air; so, on the morrow,
she and her aunt, with other friends, had
decided to set sail for the hospitable shores
of Old England.
As she now walks wearily home, having
made her parting visits, a man on the op
posite side of the street, in ordinary labor
er’s dress, watches her intently. There is
that in his bearing, which shows that he
has not always been accustomed to his
present garb. He follows her to her own
door, unnoticed, for she is busily thinking
of the near future, and of her new home in
the land beyond the seas.
She enters the little salon, and seats her
self before the grate fire, awaiting her aunt.
Quietly the door opens, and the stranger
enters. Muriel is heedless of the intrusion,
until he stands before her. For a mo
ment she is startled, then, as she scans his
face more closely, she pales, as if she had
seen a ghost.
“Muriel I”
“ Louisl” and he holds her closely. At
last Muriel asks, half reproachfully:
“ Why did you not come sooner? Why
did you not let us know you had es
caped ?”
“ Because, my darling, I could not find
you. My escape is yet a wonder to me.
When 1 left you that last night, I had given
up all hope of ever seeing you again, and
was preparing myself to meet my fate
bravely, when, as I turned down a narrow
little alley to elude the crowd which was
even then gathering in the squares, I met
a man with a covered market wagon, and
there flashed across me the idea of escap
ing by flight. I debated long whether or
not to risk asking this man to aid me, but
thinking it might be my last chance, I ac
quainted him with my danger. He seemed
much struck by something in my appear
ance, and asked if I was any relation to Gen
eral Montluc. Upon telling him I was his
son, he kissed my hand, and with tears in
his eyes, informed me that my father had
befriended him when a young man, and
that nothing he could do for his son could
ever repay the debt he owed. He gladly
consented to conceal me with the best of
his ability, and taking out his garden stuff,
made a bed for me of straw, and then cov
ered me with his merchandise. What we
both dreaded was passing out the gates, as
we feared they might be carefully guard
ed. As the cart was stopped at the Porte
de Notre Dame, my heart almost ceased
beating, for hope had grown strong within.
I listened eagerly to the conversation be
tween the soldier and my unknown friend,
and you may well imagine my feelings,
when 1 heard the former say gruffly, “ Well,
get along with your old truck, I have
weightier business on hand, than examin
ing every old vegetable wagon,” giving
the poor old nag a vicious blow with his
sabre. It seemed months to me ere my
friendly jailor set me free in the pure, open
country. He advised me to make my way
at once for the seaboard, and would not
consent to leave me until he saw me safely
shipped for England. There I heard of
all the frightful events of that week, and
even now, a thrill of horror chills me when
I think of it,” shuddering.
“ Oh, Louis, it was dreadful! Imagine
being in the midst of it all, and utterly
powerless to avert it. I think I will never
forgetit. They say the king is haunted
by the ghosts of his murdered subjects,”
and’Muriel hid her face in her hands,
“and then, I imagined you were among
them. Could you not have sent me word
you were safe?”
“My dearest, as soon as it was at all
safe, I returned to Paris, and could find no
clue of you there. Since then I have been
wandering from place to place in search of
you. I came to Rochelle before, and could
find no one answering to your descrip
tion.”
“ No, because on leaving Paris, we
dropped our real name, and took instead,
that of Meron to better escape detection,”
interrupted Muriel.
Louis took her hands in his: “ Muriel
is it possible that what I have so long
prayed for has really come to pass ? Then,
my love, why need we be separated ? I
have firm friends in England, and there
together we may worship God as we
would, until this storm blows over.”
Muriel smiled softly. “We had already
decided, Sante and I, to sail to-morrow
with other dear friends, and you may
come, too, if you wish,” she added, with a
touch of her old playfulness.
“ Her ladj ship is most kind to grant me
her permission,” bending his knee before
her, in mock gratitude.
There was a quiet little wedding the next
morning, and many were the loving con
gratulations that were showered upon
them. Muriel had won the hearts of all
by her loving, tender ways, and they were
unwilling to part from her.
As she sits upon the deck, watching the
fair shores of her own dear France fade
from sight, her eyes grow misty as the
thought comes to her, she may never see
her native land again.
Louis sympathises with her, and taking
her hand in his, whispers, “My beloved,
let us leave all unhappiness and sorrow be
hind us, and let our love be the corner
stone of our new home.”
She smiles through her tears, as she
murmers softly, “ I think, then, our cor
ner-stone is already laid.”
H. V. B. R.
For Woman’s Work.
FAULTS.
Well, we all have them, you know.
And in the nature of finite things, we
could not be without them. Some have
more than others, and some have worse
ones than others, but I think no one will
deny that they have them, to a greater or
less degree.
Then, having them, we ought to know
what they are, and do all we can to rid
ourselves of them.
Sometimes our faults of disposition or
manners are inherited. Then the fight
must be a hard and continual one to avail
against them.
Those who are conscientious and try to
become what they were meant to be, noble
men and women, seek to know what their
faults are, and having found them out,
strive ever for their mastery. Thus it is
that people who have grown old in trying
to live good lives, to live as they should
live, to become as near perfect as they
could in this world in away that would
fit them for a better one, have so few
faults.
If one does all that is possible towards
the eradication of the faults that he finds
within himself, he will do all that can be
done.
But there are persons who do not trouble
themselves in the least about their faults.
Their self-esteem is such that they think
whatever they are, or do, is just what it
ought to be. If they have high and even
quarrelsome tempers, they congratulate
themselves upon their lack of submission.
If they are proud and self conceited, they
sre glad that it is so; and so on, in
definitely. They rather delight in their
faults than otherwise, and, of course they
never seek to subdue or conquer them.
They keep right along through life, nurs
ing and fondling their faults until they
become eccentricities and disagreeable
habits, that often make miserable the un
fortunate people who are about them.
Knowing ourselves possessed of a fault,
we should strive to get away from it,
even though our progress' is slow; if we
keep it in mind as a thing to be avoided,
we may subdue it at last.
Then we should seek to know our fault®;
to realize what they are, and to look
closely at our thoughts and ways, that
some little pet style, or way of thinking or
speaking of things, does not become a real
faulty habit while we are looking upon it
as a virtue.
Others will not often tell us of our faults,
even though they may condemn them—
both to themselves and others. Therefore
let us search for them, and having found,
may we ceaselessly toil to overcome them.
Imogene E. Johnson.
No woman can be handsome by the force
of features alone, any more than she can
be witty only by the help of speech.—
Thomas Hughes.
When a man learns to mind his own
business and leave the affairs of others
alone he accomplishes a success as great as
falls to mortals.