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INTO NAmiOUS LIQHT
(Continued from Last Week.)
“Do you know, Auntie, I have had such strange
dreams, but I cannot recall anything distinctly. I
seemed to have drifted, drifted away in the clouds
surrounded by a multitude of strange forms and
faces; then suddenly I heard Mr. Marsden’s voice
calling me, and he took me in his arms and brought
me back home. I thought I spoke to him, then he
vanished. You know I wrote you that he and Julian
were friends no longer, and that he had not been
to see us in many months. Now that you are here
perhaps he will come back. I wish he would, for
maybe he could tell me why God keeps. me here
when I have wanted for so long to die and go home
to father. Now that you have come back to me I
shall be more content. For my sake you must not
mind Julian, but must stay with me if you wish me
to live, for the loneliness of my life has been un
bearable. ’ ’
“There now, darling, you are talking too much.
I shall never leave you again, and I am sure Mr.
Marsden will come back to see us.”
“If he only would, and I had my baby back, now
that you are with me, I feel that I could get well
very fast. I am so tired all the time. I have just
wished to "o to sleep and never awaken.”
“Then sleep, darling, sleep and dream that all
is well, for I am sure the future will be happier.”
“Where is Julian?”
“He is lying down now. He sat up all night and
left you but a few minutes ago.”
“Midst all the strange visions which surrounded
me last night I thought I saw Julian weeping over
me, and it seemed that he and Mr. Marsden were
friends. How I wish they were! Do you suppose
dreams ever come true?”
“You must not talk any more now, dearest. Dr.
Gordon commanded that you be kept quiet. So
close your eyes, darling, and let me soothe my little
girl to rest, Io sleep and to happy dreamland as
in the sweet days of your childhood.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
When Christina awakened again, for a few mo
ments she wondered if she were not in heaven. Uver
her was bending a little girlish face, and in an
instant a pair of loving arms were about her, while
the dearest voice exclaimed, “Mother! mother!”
“My precious darling!” burst from the mother
in such exultant tones of joy, that the father, who
stood in the recesses of a curtained window, was
moved to greater depths of emotion akin to the
divine than he had been for years, and his
very soul was stirred almost to believe that God
had blessed this world with something from heaven.
“And you do love me still, mother?” came from
little Maybelle in such wistful tones.
“How can you ask me that, my precious baby?
Mother’s very life has been almost taken away be
cause she could not live without you.”
“But you never came to see me, mother, and ev
ery night after the lights were out, and I was left
alone in the dark, I cried softly for you, and be
cause I thought you had forgotten me. Father came
to see me often and always loved me so and bought
me such beautiful things. He said you loved some
one else now better than you did him or me, so
that I must love him best because he loved me
best.”
“0 God! How could he?” gasped Christina.
“0 my baby, my heart, my life! How could he,
how could he be so cruel!”
Deveaux, greatly alarmed, hastened to the bed
side. “Annie, Annie, forgive me! I was an in
human monster. I was beside myself with jealousy.
I so wanted one heart to love me alone; and I tried
to persuade myself that I had a right to my own
baby’s love, and a right to take her from you for
the sake of having her all my own. This is the real
reason, before God, why I took her from you. Pity
this accursed and empty heart of mine, Annie.
The Golden Age for June 21, 1906.
By LLEWELYN ST EP HENS
Such fires of hell are torturing me almost to mad
ness, I implore your pity and forgiveness. I do
not hope for your love. That hope is dead. But I
hope your God, if he still retains any power over
this world’s inhabitants, may strike my spirit from
this old body and from having any power over you
or Maybelle, if I ever again voluntarily give either
of you one moment’s pain—or if I ever voluntarily
give John another moment’s pain.”
The tears rolled down from under Christina’s
closed eyelids, as she whispered, “These empty
hearts of ours!” But she grew calmer as the baby
lips kissed where the tears rolled, and the haby
heart nestled close to her own.
CHAPTER XXVII.
During the weeks which followed, Christina’s
vitality and strength returned more slowly than Dr.
Gordon had anticipated. She often seemed de
pressed. Mr. Deveaux was devotion and tenderness
itself, though never obtruding himself upon her
when he felt that she wished to be alone. Mrs.
Wayland was unable to gain her confidence, there
fore dared not question her heart’s secrets. The
night when John had called her back to life, she
thought but a dream, yet a dream so sweet, not a
day had passed since in which she had not wished
it to be a reality. And the remorse she suffered
from feeling that she committed a great sin in lov
ing and longing to be loved by John was devouring.
She reserved the darkness of the night when she
was alone, and thought by others to be sleeping, to
pour out her soul’s grief to God. How she prayed
God to make her satisfied with His goodness in re
turning her almost idolized baby to her; and to
make her at least forgivng toward the husband who
had become such a changed man. But God seemed
deaf to her prayers. Had she yet learned really
to pray? Had she yet joyously exclamed, “Thy
will be done in all things?”
One day Mrs. Wayland found Christiana convulsed
wih weeping, and implored her confidence. “Christi,
what hurts you, darling? Are you not so well to
day?”
“No, auntie, I fear I shall never be well again.
But my illness is not so much of the body as of the
soul.”
“And can you not trust me with your grief, who
has loved you as an own mother, and who would
now give her very life for you, if need be?”
“That is one of my sorrows, that I am not worhy
of such love as yours, not worthy to be the daughter
of my sainted father and mother. At times I have
so longed to be just what father would have had
me be, and what our heavenly Father would have
me 'be. And since the hour I first held my baby to
my heart, I have so wanted to be in all things
just the woman God would have mv darling’s mother
to be. I know that I have prayed to be submissive
in all things to God’s will, and yet I am not sub
missive. One idol I have not been able to tear
from my heart. Ah, you do not know what tempta
tion is! Again and again I have fought soul battles
which have been greater struggles than they would
have been had they been physical battles with a
den of wild beasts. And yet my idol is not de
throned. Sometimes lam almost willing to give up
all that heaven means, could I bul possess this one
idol.”
“Trust me, dearest, for I know your heart is as
pure in its motives as it is possible for that of a
mortal’s to be.”
“All these years God alone has shared my secret.
I am sure John—yes, John himself—has never sus
pected it. But from the day John Marsden bound
me to some one else in marriage, and I heard him
pronounce me the wife of Julian Deveaux, I seem
to have gradually awakened from a dream to find
myself bound behind iron bars, while in sight, but
just across an impassible gulf, was freedom, joy
and love akin to the divine. I have been constantly
just near enough this other shore to make me realize
what life could have been to me. It seems that this
life is just a mixture of regrets for the past and
of longings for what might have been. What a
joyous young life went out when father died. All
since that time has seemed but shadows through
which one glorious ray of sunshine penetrated when
darling little Maybelle came. But she came and
vanished so quickly, as a humming bird darts to
sip a flower’s honey and like a flash of light is gone.
And since her return, I do not seem able to be re
stored to my former self again. Each day is such
a struggle, such a longing for peace which does not
come.”
Mrs. Wayland held Chistina close to her, and
smoothed the curls back from her throbbing tem
ples while she answered, “My poor little girl. God
knows your heart. He alone can give you peace.
There is but one idol which can rest upon our heart’s
throne in perfect peace, and that one is the Son
of God, who gave his life for us and whose love
outweighs all human love; that Friend who so
loved us, that he suffered every grief known to hu
manity, and carried the sins and sorrows of the
whole world within His own pierced heart upon the
cross of Calvary.”
“Yes, auntie, I believe that with all my soul;
and yet I have not joy and peace in that knowl
edge.”
“But, dearest, great heights cannot be attained
at one bound. We must go up step by step. You
will come to many slippery places, many rough
places; some times your feet may slip, the rocks
may cut and the thorns may pierce; but so long
as you trust yourself to God’s guidance, you will
steadily go onward and upward. If you will only
open your heart to the love of Christ above all oth
ers, and ask Him to use you for His service in the
upliftment of mankind, just think what a blessing
ou could become to this great city. Use the bless
ings God has given you to bless others. I know
you have despised your wealth, because it seemed
to bring with it sorrow only. But all things bless
or curse according to the way in which they are
you could become to this great city. Use the bless
no necessity for your continuing a slave to society’s
customs. You can afford to be independent, and
see the example of how a woman may be a social
queen and still be an active Christian woman, up
lifting all those with whom she comes in contact.
(Continued next week.)
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