awn. mtM m
VOL. XIII.
NEW BLOOMFIELD, 3? A.., TUESDAY, JANUARY 7, 1879.
NO. 2.
THE TIMES.
An Independent Family Newspaper,
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Beledt Poetfy.
FORGOTTEN.
How harshly falls upon the ear
This one sad word how great the Tear
To be, when death to us draws noar,
Forgotten I
To know, ere many Bummers gay,
Or Winters drear, have passed away,
That we mart moulder iu the clay,
Forgotten t
Bo all men seek the mystic key
Of earthly Immortality,
In the vain hope of not to be
forgotten I
But all vain hopes must die,
No man can flight of time defy ;
We all wlthtn our graves must lie,
Forgotten I
STOLEN FROM THE GRAVE,
on
The Doctor's Wife.
CONTINUED.
THAYER Lad a double
for this arrangement, the
of which made him feel a
The arrangement made at
DOCTOR
reason
second one
little guilty.
home was that the child should be. given
to the nuns to adopt and do as they
pleased with, he retaining no authority,
and paying no expenses; but since she
bad clung so to him, and he had found
bow hard it would be to renounce all
influence over the fate of one bound to
him by such peculiar ties, and to give
her up so utterly that he would have no
right to make inquiry for her, he had
changed his mind. The only way to
keep any hold on her was by paying her
expenses, and that he instantly resolved
to do. But he as Instantly decided to
say nothing at home about this change
in his plans.
' It will only worry and annoy An
nie," he thought. "She can't under
stand how I feel, and doesn't see
why I should care anything about the
child, aud I can't change. It is better
to avoid discussion." ,
' Has she been baptized ?" the supe
rior asked.
The doctor did not know, and had no
means of finding out. ,
" You would want her to be christen
ed Rose?" was the next question.
" Yes,and I would like to add a name,
if it is customary."
" Oh, she can take as many names as
you like," suld the superior.
Doctor Thayer bent smilingly over
the child, who still nestled closely to
his side, and lifting her face with his
hand, asked:
" Would my little girl like to have me
name her Rose Blanche t She is too
white to be only a Rose, which should
be pink.. May I name you Blanche,
dear?" '
"Yes," whispered Rose, with un-
smiling Hps.
,1 There seemed nothing else to do but
f to Intrust to the superior the souvenirs
I lof Rose's mother which Mrs. Burkhardt
tiad kept, and to take leave of the little
gin. - . - .
"Please write me a line after a few
Mays, and let me know how she is con
tented," the doctor said, rising. "I
think that she will attach herself to the
llace and to you, but I shall feel anx
ious till I learn."
He clasped tightly the little hand that
held his in its soft, clinging hold, held
up the small face, and looking steadily
Into it for one moment, kissed the child,
forehead, cheek and mouth, and sud
denly released her. With her habit of
obedience and dependence on hliu, Rose
did not, at first comprehend the mean
ing, and did not resist him when he put
her away. He bowed hastily to the su
perior, and went out of the room and
out of the house. But as his hand was
on the knob of the outside door.be heard
a step running after blui over the bare
floor of the hall, and he stood on the
steps, fastened out by the spring lock, a
cry rang through the oaken panels not
loud, but sharp and full of anguish.
Then there was silence.
"It Is a shame!" exclaimed Doctor
Thayer, turning to open the door again.
But it resisted his hand. He stood a
moment irresolute, listening ; but no
sound came to his ear. " It is cruel that
a child should be made to suffer so."
He put his hand on the hell-knob, but
hesitated before ringing; and that mo
ment showed him the folly of going
back, if he was not going to take Rose
away with him. He walked uneasily to
and fro on the wide veranda, and after
a few minutes, seeing one of the nuns
near an open window, he spoke to
her :
" Mow is the child V"
"The poor little thing Is recovering,"
was the reply. "She la with the supe
rior." "Did BhefalutV" he asked, quickly.
" Yes, sir."
" I will wait till she is quiet," he
said, decidedly. " Please let me know
presently."
He walked to and fro again with a
troubled face, and after a while the nun
appeared at the window and beckoned
him. He softly approached and looked
in. The superior sat in an arm-chair,
holding the child on berlap; the little
face was laid close to her bosom. It was
evident that she was quiet.
"She has found a friend," the doctor
thought, looking with a feeling of relief
and yet of pain.
The superior raised her eyes and gave
him a smiling nod. He bowed,, and
turning away, went down the steps, got
into his carriage and drove down the
avenue.
After petting and soothing the child a
few minutes, the superior set her up
right, and patting her pale cheek, said,
cheerfully:
"Now ray little girl must go and
have some breakfast. I have a pretty
playmate for her here. Will she come
now?"
Poor Rose had no will of her own,and
could only permit herself to be led up
the great stairway, through along up
per hall with bare floor like the lower
one, and into a large dormitory that
crossed the end of it and ocoupled one
of the wings. Both hall and dormitory
had a bare look, but were fresh, airy,
and exquisitely clean. Ths dormitory
had windows at each extremity, and
rows of little white-curtained beds at
each side and down the centre. The
doors stood open into the wash-room
adjoining, showing the long line of
faucets, each one with a basin under
neath, the racks for towels, and the
countless drawers and pigeon-holes that
lined the walls. The superior led Rose
to one. of the beds, drew the curtain
aside, and displayed a little girl lying
there with a thin, pale face and cropped
hair, but with the brightness of return
ing, health in her eyes.. The child
lulled brightly at sight of the nun, and
kissed the hand that was offered her.
" Here is a little girl who has also
been slok." the superior said, lifting
Rose and setting her on the bed beside
the other. " And now you two are go
ing to have breakfast together. One is
Rose, and the other is Lily. You must
be very fond of each other, and see
which will get strong and well first."
Smiling kindly on them, she wisely
left them to become acquainted in their
t wn way. For a minute they were
silent, the sick child shyly regarding
Rose, autRose looking off with swim
ming eyes toward the windows. At
length, Lily ventured, In the sweet, hes
itating way of a bird learning to sing:
" I'm real glad we're to have break
fast, aren't you V"
. Rose looked with wan and listless sur
prise at the speaker. Breakfast was the
thought furthest from her mind. With
her heart full of gtlef, and strange.
tragical images floating vaguely before
her mind images that might well, if
understood, appal the stoutest mind-
Rose had but little consciousness of any
of her bodily wants.
" We shall have strawberries, I
think," continued Lily, more confident
now that the Ice was broken. " Sister
Anastasia told me that she Blmuld not
be surprised if I had some, and of course
you will too.
Rose drew a long, tremulous s1eli,nnd
began to look about her, and take note
of things.
"Isn't this a splendid place 1"' asked
the other, determined to talk.
Rose sighed out a " Yes."
" All the other girls got up early, and
are down In the garden," Lily went on.
I sleep late because I have been sick.
At ten o'clock I shall be dressed and go
out and walk on the terrace, or down
the grapery. Will you go with me V"
Here there was a faint rattling of
dishes above the rustling of trees, and a
nun appeared at the door carrying a
waiter, and followed by the superior,
who brought a little stand and placed it
before the children. Sure enough, there
were strawberries, two small saucers
full, strewn over with sugar, and with
a g poo ii ful of cream in each. Two cups
of chocolate and two generous slices of
buttered bread completed the breakfast.
Whether it was the novelty of her
situation, the gentle cheerfulness of her
companions, or some re-action In her-
Belf,Rose presently felt disposed to think
eating not only possible but desirable,
and after a while managed to eat nearly
all her breakfast, giving half her slice
of bread to the famished little conva
lescent.
After leaving them to loiter and chat
ter for a while over their food, the su
perior came back.
" You are to have the bed next to
Lily's, Rose," she said. " And now you
may come with me and see your place
In the wash room. You are to have
this pigeon-hole for your own, and these
two drawers; and when your trunk
comes, I will show you what things to
put In them. This is your basin, and
you are to hang your towel here. Now
go back and stay with Lily, and pres
ently I will take you both out to walk."
A week later, a note was handed to
Doctor Thayer, In his office.
" Your patient Is doing well," the
superior wrote. " She gaiiiH in Btrongth
and cheerfulness, is perfectly at ease
with me,and has become attached to a lit
tle girl whom I liavegl ven her fora play
mate. The friend I have chosen for her,
is Lily Raymond, an orphan of South
ern parentage, who has no near friends,
and who spends her vacations with us.
I think you may feel perfectly easy
about the child."
The doctor read the note twice, then
twisted it up and carefully burnt it.
One year stole away, days and nights
succeeded each other as silently as light
and shadow chase across the landscape ;
and another year followed in its tracks,
and auother and another, till ten years
are gone since that morning when little
Rose and Lily, little no longer, ate their
first breakfast together in the dormitory
of the convent school of the Sisters of
Notre Dame, near Saxon. Whatever
changes may have come to people, places
are not noticeable different, and we might
walk up the avenue to Rose Hall and
fancy that but a day had passed since
Doctor Thayer went there to call on
the lady of the house for some trinkets
belonging to a poor little pauper in
whom he was interested. Perhaps the
trees have a more stately growth, the
shrubs are fuller, the hedges finer; but
the wide door stands open as then, the
wrought-lace curtains bang scarcely
swaying lu the fulnt breeze, and the
same bird-songs thrill the air.though the
same birds do not sing them. It Is sure.
ly the same lady who stands by one of
the lower front windows, holding back
the curtain with an imperious arm, as
though she had just swept it aside to
give some angry command to one who
must obey. There is the same white
and haughty face, the same wealth of
silken bluck hair, the tame bard, bright
eyes, and same fine and stately form
Instead of the rose-colored dress which
formerly cast its faint blush on the mar
ble pallor, Mrs. Burkhardt wears
loose morning robe of white pique elab
orately embroidered with black. If the
hair is thinned on the top of the lady's
head that mark of time's depredations Is
hidden by the coquettish little barbe of
laoe which is fastened to her braids with
a knot of lavender ribbon, and fulls in
long embroidered ends to her shoulders
Though nearly fifty years of age, Mrs..
Burkhardt can yet be captivating when
she chiKweg ; and it must be owned that
she sometimes chooses of late. These
lfngerlng signs of lavender, and blaek
embroideries are all that Is left of her
widow's weeds. Mr. Burkhardt has
been three years dead.
It would seem that the lady was ex
pecting some one ; for after looking out
a while, she dropped the curtain, and
began walking the room, glancing: from
the windows whenever she passed them,
and keeping a close lookout on the av
enue. Even the anger and excitement
which Is evidently quivering In every
nerve of her form gives her a more
youthful look, by chasing away that
languor which ever comes with years.
At length, after she had paced the
room impatiently for nearly half an
hour, she paused and listened, for there
was a fuint sound of light wheels In the
avenue; and in a few minutes a glitter
ing littlo top-buggy drawn by a beauti
ful buy was driven up to the steps, and
a gentleman alighted and tossed the
reins Into the hands of a colored ser
vant, who had come Immediately for
ward on heuring him.
Looking at this gentleman as he as
cends the steps with prompt but unhur
ried feet, we may reoognize the flight of
ten years since we lust saw him. It is
Doctor Eugene Thayer ; but not the
bridegroom smiling at his bride's crown
of cherry-blossoms, nor the kind young
doctor taking his little orphan charge to
the convent. The man looks his full
forty years, and you can see they have
not been forty years of play. Ten
years of severe study and of faithful
practice in the science of fighting dis
ease and death in the myriad forms
which they assume to attack the citadel
of life will leave their mark; and Doc
tor Thayer lias had other wearing influ
ence at work on him beside this profes
sional wear and tear. But there are few
persons who would look on him with
less pleasure now than ten years ago.
The face is thin ; but it is the thinness
of the finely wrought statue, and not
one lirnoble tool has cut Its line there.
A young person may have physical
beauty; but a refined mind requires
time to Imprint its higher beauty on the
features. Ten years ago, the expression
of tlio doctor's fuce, when in repose,
was thoughtful ; now it has added mel
ancholy to thoughtful ness. No ray of
brightness has gone from his eyes; but
they are, perhaps, more steady and less
flushing. His whole manner has chang.
ed, except that prompt way which is
essential, and a feature of mind as well
as of body. There Is less play of ex.
presslon ; the smile is slow to come; the
manner is more reserved and cold;
though gentle, the wordsare few. To In
tlmate friends, or the rare persons who
suit him, he can unbend, and be as easy
as and more charming than ever; but
the doctor's patients and ordinary ac
quaintances stand a little in awe of blm.
Careless rings of dark haircurl about his
forehead, and his beard is all shaven ex
cept a long mustache, beloved of' the la
dles, who never weary of the way iu
which It turns back so as to hide the
composed mouth, yet at the end droops
in a silken tress below the chin. This
mustache is the doctor's only sign of
duudyism, unless bis exquisite neat
ness may be classed under that head.
" A frequent bath and clean linen are
Indispensable to a physician," he would
say : and he acted on his maxim.
Servants appeared as if by magic at
the Hull. One never bad to ring a bell
there on approaching. An obsequious
quadroon rose from the earth, as it were,
as you drove up the steps, his band ex
tended to take the reius from yours ; the
doors opened as you approached tbem :
it was as if your unspoken wishes were
audible to the dwellers there. One was
not without an uncomfortable feeling
that privacy was impossible at the Hall,
and that any minute, however inoppor
tune, a dusky-faced afrlte might start up
at one's elbow. One of these noiseless
beings appeared just inside the opeu
door as Doctor Thayer entered, and,
bowing low, informed him that Mrs.
Burkhardt was in the sunset room, so
named on account of a beautiful palut
ing of an Italian sunset which adorned
the walls. There he found the lady, ab
sorbed, apparently, in examining rose-
petals through a microscope.
Cl trence," she said, without looking
up, on hearing a step, " I shan't go to
town to-day. Cousin Margaret wants
me to sit with her. So- you needn't
wait. O, doctor!" with a charming lit
tle air of surprise, " I thought it was
Clarence. How noiselessly you enmel
Your wheels must be tl?ed with velvet.
Or did you walk?"
I drove," the doctor replied, with a
courteous greeting.
As he came up the avenue, his sharp
eyes had plainly seen the lady pacing
her room, and had seen her white dress
pause a moment before the window as
he came round the near turn at the
wing of the bouse.
" What does she want to make such a
pretence for V'-he thought, coolly look-
ing her, and calmly admiring her fault
less make-up.
" At the microscope V" he remarked,
with a glance at her occupation. "That
Is our modern substitute for the en
chanted carpet: it transports us Into a
new world."
Mrs. Burkhardt laughed lightly.
" I am simply consoling myself," she
said. " Chancing to look at my own
hand through the glass, I was horrified
at its coarse appearance; and I can only
regain my own self-respect by proving
to myself that the rose-petals are quite
as rough."
She took up one of the petals from the
table beside her, and, dropping it to the
delicate palm of her hand,smilingly con
templated it.
The doctor smiled lightly also; but
there was a spice of cynicism in bis ex
pression as he marked the coquetry of
her action.
" The petal has the worst of it," be
said, with the air of a man who knows
that be is expected to pay a compli
ment. - The lady tossed the flowers aside, and
became grave immediately.
" I have a childish habit of trifling
when I am anxious," she said, with dig
nity. "And I am very uneasy and
very much annoyed this morning. I
wish to speak to you about it."
The gentleman signified that be was
all attention. Indeed, Doctor Thayer
respected Mrs. Burkhardt when she pro
ceeded to business. She had a clear,
prompt way and showed more coolness
and common sense than women are al
ways In the habit of displaying when
they are Interested in the subject under
discussion. .
" You have not forgotten what I told
you years ago about the death, of that
Mrs. Paulier who was here to nurse
Cousin Margaret ? Well, I bad almost
forgotten It, when suddenly It was re
called to my mind in the most unex
pected manner. I was at Mrs. General
Summervllle's yesterday. She has Just
returned from the South. She told me
that about six weeks ago she received a
letter from my cousin, Mr. Stanley, of
England. The letter was addressed to
O , and forwarded to her. He wrote
to make inquiries concerning this same
Mrs. Paulier having, he said, Just
heard that she once nursed Mrs. Sum
merville. Now, the fact that Mr. Stan
ley should inquire about this person does
notsurprlse me I should not be surpris
ed at hisknowlngorinqulrlug about any
one, or at anything he might do. He is x
a most unaccountable being. But the
fact of any person asking for ber now
of course makes me uneasy. What can
I say if asked concerning the manner of
her death t Since poor Dr. Marston's
death, no one knows the particulars ex
cept yourself, me, Cousin Margaret, my.
housekeeper, and the apothecary's son
Thomas. What am I to do V It is
really very embarrassing. I shall never
cease to regret that I did not put aside
my dislike of vulgar scandal, and have
the matter made public at the time. I
cannot imagine what should have made
me so Indiscreet, except that I was too
much shocked by the occurrence to
know well what I was about. What
ouKht I to do Y"
Mrs. Burkhardt in the effort to con
trol and hide her own agitation, did not
notice that a swift flush had passed over
her companion's face, and ha checked
an eager Impulse to speak.
When be had finished speaking, he
had himself It hand again.
- " It Is impossible for me to dictate
your oourse," he replied quietly.hls eyes
dwelling steadily on her pallid face. "It
is very unlikely that any one will Apply
to me for Information. I was not your
physician at the time. You must reUly
use your own Judgment in the matter."
The lady frowned angrily. Continued.