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VOL. V.
<1. & W. B. SEALS } K?S!
ATLANTA, (*A.,
A !VHj|IT WATCH.
“Tout iasse, tout casso, tout j»asse.”
t.pon the threshold of her door she lies.
The yellow hair *st ligh t is over all;
Once more she watches as the daylight dies;
Once more she watches the long shadows fall.
Around, the silent land stretched waste and
Below, the waters rose and broke and fell;
And throbbing through the heavy, windless air
r ame the dull murmur of the distant swell.
Tho wild white sea gull screams above her head.
And bloodless roses climb about the door,
And in her heavy eyes delight F dead.
And passion lies death-bound forevermore.
Her naked feet rest on the sharp gray stone,
Her empty hands fall idly still and cold.
Her lips forgot the joy they once had known,
The vain, sweet rapture that was theirs of old,
The damp night wind is rising through the land,
Stirring the grasses on the low sea-wall.
The chill sea-mist creeps slow along the sand.
And in the night the dark waves rise and fall,
The midnight tide comes swiftiv np the shore.
Across the darkened sky the black clouds sweep
Ami still she watches by that silent door,
With dreamless eyes weighed down with pain
and sleep.
And hour by hour the restless waters rise.
And drench her loosened hair with wind blown
spray;
About her weary feet the sea-foam lies.
And yet she watches—till the break of day.
Fur off the sunk moon lingers, dim and red ;
Far off the pa'e dawn wakens, chill and gray ;
Over the land a shadowy light is spread.
And with the night the storm winds die away.
The waves have brought their burden to her feet,
Her drowned love, with blood-red seaweed
crowned.
Her drowned love—oh, hitter yoke and sweet
With which love’s hands our idle hearts have
boundl
Silent and cold, low at her do. r he lies,
VumVV-v . ‘ ■
Tho passionate lips are still and calm and fair.
Take back thy love, lie has come hack at last,
Take hack thy love of lonely desolate years :
KFs his dead lips to life, forget the past.
Wipe off the stain upon his brow with tears !
Slowly she ris<*s, life has run its race,
Her gray eyes look upon his crowned head,
On tho dark waters, on the calm white face,
With dull, dead eyes she looks upon the dead.
No cry from her set lips, no flush of pain.
He hits ( wine back : but sin* had long t<* wait:
Long, weary years had she kept watch in vain ;
Love has come hack, but be lias come too late.
Take back thy dead, oh strong, dark, ruthless sea.
Hide his fair face in beds of wind-blown foam :
Fear not, i»ale death, he will be true to thee !
Fear not, 0 sea, he wiil not leave thy home.
Over the threshold drifts the tide. The door
Is shut. The waves have borne their dead away
The watcher is within—but never more
Witl she keep watch until the break of day.
JIAKCII 20, 1880.
hr
Terms in Advance:
f line Year. $2.50.
1 Single Copy. 5c.
NO. 244*
womanly resti'd on the face, wl
wi> h a glory of mind, rather than i
of thoroughly
META
SOUTHERN
OH,
PLANTATION LIFE.
A True an<l Aii" Story ot
Svullirrn l.ilr anti South,
mi IHprrirnm..
Scenes Laid on the Savannah Hirer, in Geor
gia amt South Caro'ina
nt <a«E HiinmiiAD.
CHAPTER XVIII.
And now throughout the land one great
interest swallowed up every other. Romance,
education, religion, love, all became seconda
ry to war. News of the war became the
theme that absorbed every class of those
who were not actually in the army. Tidings
from the seat, of war were eagerly sought for.
Telegraph offices were crowded night and
day with anxious men, women and children.
Crowds waited at the stations and depots ba
the arrival of the cars which should bring
news of the movements of the troops or tid
ings of the battles fought in, it might be, dis
tant portions of the country. The arrival of
some furloughed soldier, wounded, or in fee
ble health, was an occasion that caused an
excitement in the community, and old men,
boys anti women gathered around such tin
one to hear full details of some late engage
ment, or to gather intelligence of some deal-
one who had participated in it. The new ar
rival was followed by ragged boys and point
ed out to strangers as though he were some
prince of the blood or other distinguished
personage.and women vied in their attentions
to him. For war and soldiers filled every
mind; the movements of troops, the success
or defeat of armies, became the only subject
that could interest men or quicken the pulses
of gentle women.
The forces were massing near Manassas
Junction, for Beauregard was evidently pre
paring for a conflict with the foe. Among
those marshaling hosts was Col. Stinson’s
regiment. They were among the first called
into action in that terrible day. Amid shot
and shell and the smoke and roar of cannon,
the form of the Colonel could lie seen erect,,
calm and brave. When the day’s dreadful
work was ended, he lient over a score of his
wounded men; the dead he consigned to oth
er bands.
“Ah, Colonel, it will lie over with me by
another day,” said a fine-looking private,
from whose side was ebbing the red current
of blood. “Write a few lines for me to
mother. Tell h«r I fell with my face to the
foe, and that I thought of her to the last.
You do not know what a sweet woman my
mother is, Colonel. We, her children know,
Feel my pulse, for 1 believe I am dying.”
Coi. iStini,on felt the pulse of the weak man,
;<!>/■ *
“N*> ; death is not so not-, my
The burgeon will be here dir**etl\
he will do something to help y«m
hour you know whose ;»id i> bet
i others, do you not ?"
: “Yes, Colonel. My moth- i* taught n«e tint
: long ago. She used to pray with ehiMivu.
and never did she rot until we were all
Christians.”
“Then you have a great comfort, dear boy.
for the everlasting arms of our Fat lie • are
1 about you even now.’*
: “Yes, Colonel, i feel it—I feel it. But I
think of mother-—liovv sin* will miss me.’’
! “There may be a hupe that yi m ".ill g"b>
; her again.”
“N<>, I will never see her again until—
until ”
“You will then meet her ill heaven, my
brave boy, and think of the bliss of that
meeting."
“Yes. No more parting— See, my eyes are
growing dim! I can—scarcely sec*—von—
1 Col "
The Colonel whispered words into the dy
ing ears that must hive awakened pleasant
! thoughts, for lie lifted his finger upward
and smiled. In that last, bright smile the
young spirit fled to the home where he would
meet again the mother whose hands had led
him there.
Near by was another, a large, brawny
man, whose hands hail left the plow to hold
the sword.
Staunching tho flowing blood as best he
i eould. the Colonel then proceeded to render
the soldier's position more comfortable by
moving him from the place where he lay in a
doubled state, as he had fallen. Placing the
water and brandy to his lips the Colonel was
1 pleased to see that the wounded mini drank
1 with avidity.
“All. Colonel, these halls are not pleasant,
hut l hope to have a chance of hitting them
back again. We have the victory, haven’t
we. Colonel ? ’
•‘Yes, we have gained the day,” was the
sober answer.
“Colonel, my little wife will lie greatly dis
tressed when she hears I'm wounded and so
far from her. Now, will you write and tell
her Pm doing very well.”
Yes, I will cheer her all I can,” said the
Colonel, who looked closely at the wound
and feared truth would not permit him to
cheer the wife much, though the soldier ac-
; cepted his fate so calmly.
By this time the wounded were receiving
all possible attention; there were however
some who were left alone. Even in the face
! of Heath the spirit of enmity could linger in
i some hearts. Col. Stinson no sooner discov
ered this than he refilled his canteen ami flask
and devoted himself mostly during the rest
; of the day to the men in “blue.”
I “God bless you,” said the first heapproaeh-
; ed, and whose cries for water attracted
his attention.
! “Can you turn me a little, soldier ! my pain
; is very great.” The Colonel moved him as
1 gently as possible to a more comfortable posi
tion.' “All! that is better, thank you, my
mail. The soldier closed his eyes as if to en-
i jov the fresh ease, but opening them sudden
ly he asked: “Where will they take us, sol
dier ! can you tell me I”
i “Not yet. 1 hope you will return by Hag
! of truce to your own lines, but if this lie not
‘so, then you will be taken to our hospitals,
I where 1 hujie you will find every necessary
i comfort.”
| “At your hospitals I will lie a prisoner of
war i Oh! that is a hard thought, soldier.
| AVhat will they think of it at home, poor
i dears
i “It, the fortune of war and we soldiers
j must lie ready for our fate.”
I “Yes, yes: it is war—I must submit,” said
j the man again closing his eyes.
I The next was a youth of perhaps eighteen.
| Two long streams of blood rippling from near
his heart told a sad story. His fair, girlish
face, and brown ringlets resting on bis smooth
forehead were strange sights on this field of
carnage.
Col. Stinson, who hail dealt so long with
girls until he had acquired a manner adapted
to their nature, knelt as gently by the Isiy as
if he was one of the pupils of the college he
had left.
“Here, my boy, drink a little of this
draught: it will strengthen you.”
■*] jut; your 1
to help you,” sji
C*st tout’s.
The youth made an effort to speak, hut ut-
*eranee {'filed him and l** 1 sunk a^ain into ap
parent unconsciousness. Lifting his head
sliglrly, with a touch gentle? a- a woman’s
the Colonel succeeded in giving him a little of
the strengthening drink. Then making a
pillow wuh leaves and grass he maced it un
der th** hoy's head, and waned some minutes
in hopes «>:’ his reviving. Finding the hope
vain he proceeded too hers, then in an hour .
returned to i he !><»;*. At once la* saw that*
tin- drink had revived his young charge, for •
he was 1 inking around in;eliigeutly.
,*A friend has L- n hen* I know, for this
pillow shows r. soldier,” sai l the boy looking
at I he (‘oh me).
T was with you. my friend., and only left ,
you to h*dp others."
“Then you aiv a good ('unfed., and 1 thank
yon." said ii\ holding out his hand.
“Von wdi need this again if you remain
much l*'::ger here, so I wdi give you this bot
tle. it i.sgoml wine, and rein an her if you
grow weak* i* th t it is here bes-de you."
“That i will soldi* r. May you fare just jis !
I am doing now if ever you are shot and fall
into our hands."
Coi. Stills*>ii was aLou' to p :ss to another
after a lew kindly parting words with the
young soldier, when the la. ter called to him
fail i iy and said:
“Will you take my name, soldier : If I
st»v anywhere near you may he you will be
so kind as to come and see me when you can*”
“Yes, I will with pleasure,” and drawing
out a piece of torn newspaper, he scribbled j 1
as directed
“James P, Ingleside, Philadelphia.”
Far into the balance of the day and inght
Col. Stinson stoo l around the wounded of Ins
own regimen;. The brave fallows brightened
if they but saw the face of the man who had
endeared himself to them from the first by j
duty in little deeds of kindness as well as in
those conspicuous acts of bravery which
challenge the admiration of all mankind.
ttieu
of her class on Coin-
e w ere many bright
ever reached an even
Ahie appd cut
away* in* first honor
luenctvuent day. Tin
scholars, but none win
race with her.
At 1; s*t the famil y met in the study which
had been : s-;gne . to Mr. Stinson’.- use.
There were s-*ven teachers in the school,
and on: his occasion they were all gathered
aroun l the centre table, debating oue.M ions
iv' itn g t" the important Com*: encemei.t,
w hich was to come off in three weeks. Mr.
Cameron and his co-adjiiors, found a vast
amount of wc ?rk i>n hand, which requin-d
gn-.tt i-li.il! and tact. for successful siccum-
}ili.-sliiilit. All matter.- were discussed in de-
mil ruing the goneiai plan for the cx-
cuiia.it on. concert, and exhibitions of ti‘c
two iiu rarv societies. The last, important
point was now approached.
■■\Vh i aiv to receive honors, and what is
to lie tlie general conduct and dress of the
graduate- is nmv the subject for considera
tion ,” said Mr. Cameron glancing at a mem-
oraiKtu.n in Ids hands. "We must compare
rci>o. t.-. then assess tile merits and demerits
ot each.”
Seven lung black ledgers were laid upon
the tab;e, and seven pail- of hands were busy
tor mi hour, with pens and paper.
■ Ready, indies and gentlemen !" asked Mr.
Cameron ns he saw the circle pause in its
labors. Each one gave assent, and Mr. C.
then requested the shai p-visaged. white-
haired i lan. who taught Mathematics to read
his rep' rt.
“M:«|Meta Glenn, lias but two marks be
lt tbelmaximuni—Miss Angie Clyde, and
M ss HJje have each fourteen—lliese three
are my I st pupils.'’ He Then proceeded to
ai-i-or-!
f-
'tiler fourteen gradua'es their
merits and demerits. He then
assessment on a sheet of paper,
is laid on the table to receive a gen-
■ineiit with the oilier reports.
■Yoiij report Mr. Kilgo?” asked Mr. Cam-
j eron tui'jing to the little devotee to cfcemis-
. try, phii isophy and other kindred branches.
The i tt le man begun in a shrill, sharp
| voice to recount the merits of liis pupils.
; “Miss Meta Glenn always the maximum
Meta Glenn sat in her room n one reading mark, never once did she fail, ladies and
a letter which she had read before during the j gentlemen. Miss Hale has three tens, and
lay, but these were passages she conned as Miss Clyde four, Miss McKay six the others
CHARTER XIX.
1 '
;7 , ;VlU r J*:i‘S." trl*v* TmvW l.-m,*hinr*-.
“Yes, eerta i»iy; our Southern people look
upon these things in a very contracted, one
sided way Wliv noteducate ou> women f r
certain positions, vocations I should sa}’? Be
cause a girl is > be heir apparent to wealth
tl.i-K is no reason why she should be unpre
pared for that po\*( ny u eich may befall » er.
1 like that, good old French and German 1 w
of demanding a trade of all her young
people."
“W ell. said Mrs. T.. “I ihii k when a girl
F a- wed educated in arts and sciences as
Mi.s> Glenn or am of the graduates, she po—
se-scs »lie ability to cope with poverty: why
we have girls who to-morrow can start out. and
earn a living as tva cUcrs, needlewomen, and
I bt lieve as housekeepers.”
“I hope so, in fact i bebeve the same, but
I object to thi- pi n of 1 aving all these years
of 1 Ifort on the last college field of knowledge,
the rostrum where th** essay at graduation is
read. I doubt if one-tenth of these girls will
ever write another essay or deepen their
knowledge in any of our text-hooks. Now I
believe that if thev would do as is occasionally
none North, even by girls of means, teach
two years at least, they would double their
knowl- dge. deepen and broaden then* minds
so that w th far greater st rength they would
meet the conflict of life.”
“I dare say von are correct, Mr. Cameron,
but like ?i great many other practical ideas,
yours will remain unaccepted by the people.
The ] mrents are «s nnxiims as the girls them
selves fur this enrl of school lime anil the be
ginning of a st-asimi when tlieir young-Iaiiy-
| hood will iii- mark"!I by social pleasures at
| home anil elsewhere.”
I “I think of it painfully, Mrs. Taylor. It is
! like making preparations for years for a cer-
1 tain end, and when success is possible, clmng-
ing tic mind and breaking off suddenly, I
have seen so many bright, promising young
persons of both sexes fall into the dull, vapid
common-place ideas and behavior of uiiedu-
i eated people. Minds seem to retrograde
under neglect, or from constant dissipations
ill a circle of silly people.”
] “This is all true and sad, Mr. Cameron, but
I fear there is no hope of a change with our
girls. I mis* there will be a difference, for
your oft-repeated lectures on this subject
()ne graduate arose after another and read
the all important essay, until several hours
were consumed, anil even the pleased, pa
tient audience felt the effect of the long, eon-
strained position. At last fifteen young la
dies had gone througli the trying ordeal, and
Mr. Cameron announced the name of the
first honor girl. The weariness was forgotten
by the many hundreds of people who now
looked eagerly forward to the rostrum. Fully
firtcen hundred pairs of eyes were fixed upon
the girl who rose from her scat, now paie.—
now flushing in rosy blushes as she took her
place at the desk. All that was lovely and
which shone
sica! beauty, though nature had indeed 15;
generous in grace of form and features. The
light of her grey ev es,the dimples of her velvet
cheeks the curve of her rose-tinted lips, were
.-ill noted bv the strangers who gazed tenderly,
coldly, kindly, critically, upon the timid,
shrinking young girl, who stood before them
as fust of the brilliant ;
educated girls on the rostrum.
Lifting her eyes a moment she beheld their
sea of faces, the eyes levelled upon her like
so many myriads of burning rays upon a fo
cus. tier lips grew ash j-pule and her hands
shook until the paper she held quivered like
aspen. Even the coldest, critics grew anxious.
Mr. Cameron, who had somewhat anticipa
ted this trepidation of Meta’s, had prepared
Mr. Desmond for it by arranging fur music
at ju-t such a juncture. When Meta was
almost ready to sink under her intense ex
citement. the rich, flowing music, which nev
er failed to charm her, fell soothingly upon
her excited nerves. Under its influence she
became calm, and Mr. Cameron, who stood
by. deeply anxiou-, felt assured of her suc
cess when he saw the flash of her eyes and
the compression of her lips. The last sweet
tones of the violin had faded out, and a v< lice
as rich anil mellow as woman’s voice could
be, was heard reading from the desk. Sur
prise, intense pleasure, swayed the audience
as they listened. With graceful ease the
reader swept from one field of science to an
other, evincing the excellent instructions of
her teachers, and her own fine use of the su
perior mental talent with which nature had
endowed her.
y;-y-. there for the. Iljsi time, with her
fair broijf loaded with honors—there with the
silent tluf 'i'K paying her homage of wrapt
- n A! : se..dt?r. W-UUfdjtf.o'Le chi s .-n among the
sombre shadows rested upon the reader.
Where the light of the sun had just played,
the gloom of the clouds appeared, but as if
inspired, she read on. The audience, the
cloud, the sunshine, were all unnoted, for she
had dived into her golden mine, and was lux
uriating in the realm so exclusively her own.
When she had uttered the last word, when
Mr. Desmond was piling in her lap the floral
tributes showered upon her, then she became
oppressed, she yearned for something more,
some substantial comfort which all the effort,
all the success of the hour had not brought.
For the first time she saw the cloud shadows
and felt that I hey were stifling her: she
wanted not these prettv blossoms, whose
fragrance enveloped her, but a word—
a single, kindly, loving word from one
dear to her soul. Her father was not
there, nor Bertha, and her mother, who would
have surely come, was sleeping in the church
yard. yhe thought next of Mr. Stinson, but
he might he even now among the slain. She
turned to Angie, the dear sister friend, who
was always a comfort, and saw the sweet
girl bowed in tears. Meta knew why these
tears came, and in knowing this, she was at
last eomforted, for dearer to her heart were
these tokens of a pure friendship tiiun all the
praises, all the flatteries of the crowd.
carefully as the most abstruse and valuable
lesson. Khe culled these passages: -‘The
heart that can he brave in duty when there
is no apparent reward, no opprobation, but
even condemnation, is the heart to be trusted
with the highest posts of honor. Such an
one is moved by ilie inner life of that princi
ple which glorifies every act, however dis
tasteful by nature, viz., the love of duty for
its own sake. Once this devotion permeates
mind and heart, there is excluded from those
realms discontent, ennui, anil the long train
of ills that follow kindred vices. AVhat mats
ters it to such an one if to-day his duty is to
sweep the streets, to-morrow guide the na
tion in council, he finds the lofty part of all
acts, and gladly accepts them,'feeling that
‘duty is lieautv’ forever.”
“While I grant, that education must he
general, for social purposes, yet every man
and woman have only time in this brief life
for eminent success in a single department.
At your age, and even younger, the mind re
veals a natural lient for some one vocation.
If Mathematics. Rhetoric or Astronomy, etc.,
follow the leadings of nature, anil base your
chief efforts upon the cultivation of the chos
en branch. If you hut partially succeed, you
will achieve far more ihan if you endeavor to
keep up a general superficial knowledge of all
your studies. In manual gifts I have no
doubt our college fosters many an artist in
needle work, housekeeping and other branches
where woman’s deft lingers have wrought
comfort and wealth. Let your pursuit be
what, it may, aim at the highest point of ex
cellence. Never lie content with anything
less, for the habit of being pleased with one’s
poor work augurs a spirit that will he sure
to accept a chronic retrogradation. ”
The charm of the letter was that it came
from Col. Stinson. He had sent several to
the teachers and pupils and Meta was one of
the chosen. If it was a pleasure to listen to
his teachings, when he was present, how was
the pleasure increased by liis absence. Meta
became a regular correspondent of Mr. Stin-
are abou,t even.’
Mr. Cameron then read a clear account for
“Miss Glenn, except on one occasion slightly
delinquent from indisposition,’’ Miss McKay
stood next, Miss Clyde third and Miss Hale
fourth.
Mrs. Tavlor, made an almost similar re
port. The’ Desmonds, in music, drawing and
painting and the languages, decided that
Misses Glenn. Hale, Clyde and Jenkins were
equally proficient. After a few moments it
was decided that four honors should lie dis
tributed the first to Miss Glenn: the second to
Miss Hale: Miss Clyde the third; and Miss
McKay tie fourth.
“I hope our decisions will prove satisfac
tory to the pupils themselves.”
“In the case of Miss Glenn, I’m sure they
will lie pleased, said Mrs. Taylor.
“Yes,” said Mr. Cameron, “there is no room
for dissatisfaction as regards her. 1 am almost
sorry she is to graduate, any college is bless
ed that has such a star as Miss Meta Glenn. ”
“Yes, she is a remarkable girl, yet I have
often thought that hereafter, in the ways of
the world. Miss Angie Clyde will succeed
best of all our girls of houor. There is such
sweetness of heart, such purity about Miss
Clyde, and then her beauty; altogether, life
seems a bright path for her.”
“Yet. we can scarcely predict the future
for our dtar girls. Circumstances, the mere
tools in God’s providence, may reveal strange,
startling things concerning them. Of all our
graduates however, I should choose Miss
Glenn as the w oman who will make her way
through the greatest trials to a successful
end. She is gifted, resolute and sweet temp
ered, a rare and all powerful combination.
If anv one approximates her it is her inti
mate friend Miss Clyde, w-hese beauty, will
win where her gentleness will fail, and whose
goodness will still be a ruling power, when
age fades her Deauty. It is almost a pity
that Miss Glenn is wealthy, for what a fine
success she would lie, with Miss Clyde as as
sistant, in a first class school?”
CHAPTER XXI.
i In Colonel Glenn's neighborhood lived Miss
Margaret Jane Stewart, spinster. Though
siie attended the same church, except a pass
ing acquaintance, she and all concerning her
; were unknown to the Glenn family. Mrs.
Glenn had indeed sometimes spoken of this
devoted church attendant, and said in her
kindly way, that she hoped it was only a
kind of accident that the lady's eyes were so
I fierce and her expression so bitter. Others
would speak harshly of these things, and
Mrs. Glenn, in her usual charity, strove to
' overlook them. If is doubtful virtue, that
of hiding a vice, by these excuses as it were
i in calling up the possible or impossible good
j of the vicious. If Jim Jones is a thief, and
! is accommodating, as all thieves are by the
way. must I, for the sake of his pleasant ac-
-repeated lectures on this subject 1 <’<’ omodating spirit, beguile my friend into
and those of Col. Stinson may have inspired i trusting her purse in Jims hands. No. tell
them with the wish to make commenceinert of his worth it you will, 1 ut put others on
dav the beginning of a higher school where their guard lest this sbilly slmby worth draw
they wdl use the knowledge gained in college j them into the quicksand, w here they w ill
as the instrument towards achieving still : sink.
larger success. Those were Col. Stinson’s 1 Good Mrs. Glenn had fairly shivered in
words one dav. 1 hope they were not lost 1 sight of the face of the dignified, austere,
nor yours either.” pious (alas! the misuse of the term) Miss
The teachers left flic study and in a very
few minutes the result of their meeting was
known to every pupil. That night in the
chapel the names of those who were to receive
honors were announced.
CHAPTER XX.
Miss Desmond lmd been selected to choose
the kind of dress the graduates were to ap
pear in. When they stood before the pres
ident's mansion to be escorted by the faculty
to the chapel, they were like so many brides
going to i heir nuptials. Each was dressed
in fine white swiss adorned with berthas of
tulle, lace and white satin riblxin; around
each head was a w reath of pure white flow
ers. The chapel blinds were all closed except
one, that was allowed to throw its light upon
the desk where the girls were to take their
positions to read. The rostrum was a bower
of w reaths and flowers, and the girls, simply
though beautifully adorned, looked like
bright creatures of a happier sphere.
Angie Clyde arose and read the salutatory,
a task which the faculty had, upon a second
decision devolved upon her. Her liquid,
brown eyes, brimming with emotion, her
pure, white complexion, perfect features, and
the becoming dress she wore, all conspired to
render more complete her entrancing beauty.
Her words were not heard by the whole of
the vast audience, but there were few who
did not behold with admiring gaze the be
witching loveliness of the gentle reader.
When she had finished her essay, and was
again in her seat, the president said in a low
tone, to a distinguished judge near him, who
was commenting upon her beauty, “What is
best of all, sir, she is as good as she is beauti
ful.” Rare compliment! How often alas!
is beauty a vain delusive snare!
Stewart. She felt a repugnance unmistakea-
j blv intense, to the cruel, selfish woman, who
was dressed in the sanctimonious robes of a
s inf. Yet Mrs. Glenn shut down this assert
tion of her pure nature gainst the gross one.
ami tried to lead her home flock into charity to
wards the woman, she would have lieen wiser
in teaching them to avoid as unworthy. Only
a few weeks had elapsed after Mrs. Glenn’s
death, when Miss Stewart drove up to CoL
Glenn’s gate. Her face betokened all the
sombre dignity of grief—grief occasioned in
this instance by sympathy. Colonel Glenn
received her, and readily believing she had
indeed come as she said “to see your daugh
ter, who must feel so lonely now, and is will
ing to accept even my poor sympathy.”
Bertha was indeed lonely, but not by far so
much so as the husband who clung gratefully
to any hand held out to him in this great hour
of darkness. Again and again did Miss Mar
garet Jane appear at the gate, and always
with that set, s\ in pathetic face. After some
months she ventured to remain a few days to
instruct Bertha in some necessary needle
work, and some household work, where Miss
Margaret’s skill was valuable. Almost any
woman has tact, if she means to accomplish
an end, and Miss Margaret Jane meant to
accomplish an end. Adroit, careful, thought
ful, wiser and better women would have
failed where she was sure of success. iShe
knew one false movement, would spoil her
plans, and she was sure to he wary and make
no rash movement.
She was getting the reins in her power,
drawing her victim in slowly, surely. How
she hated haste in matters of this kind, tv here
one single quick movement might upset her
trap, then away the game would fly! But
haste she must. The college con