"I come with their full consent and approbation. Alice will take the place of Helen in the household, and prevent the aching void that would be left."
"Alas! what can Alice do?"
"I can love him and pray for him, mother, live to bless him, and die, too, for his sake, if G.o.d requires such a sacrifice."
"Is not hers a heavenly mission?" cried Louis, taking the hand which rested on his arm, and laying it gently against his heart. "This little hand, whose touch quickens the pulsations of my being, will be a shield from temptation, a safeguard from sin. What can I do for her half so precious as her blessings and her prayers? If I am a lamp to her path, she will be a light to my soul. "What can Alice do?" She can do every thing that a guardian angel can do. Give her to me, for I need her watchful cares."
"I see she is yours already," cried the now weeping mother, "I cannot take away what G.o.d has given. May He bless you, and sanctify this peculiar and solemn union."
Thus there was a double wedding on the morrow.
"But she had no wedding dress prepared!" says one
A robe of pure white muslin was all the lovely blind bride wished, and that she had always ready. A wreath of white rose-buds encircling her hair, completed her bridal attire. Helen wore no richer decoration.
Spotless white, adorned with sweet, opening flowers, what could be more appropriate for youth and innocence like theirs?
Mittie wore the same fair, youthful livery, and a stranger might have mistaken her for one of the brides of the evening--but no love-light beamed in her large, dark, melancholy eyes. She would gladly have absented herself from a scene in which her blighted heart had no sympathy, but she believed it her _duty_ to be present, and when she congratulated the wedded pairs, she tried to smile, though her smile was as cold as a moonbeam on snow.
Helen"s eyes filled with tears at the sight of that faint, cold smile.
She thought of Clinton, as he had first appeared among them, splendid in youthful beauty, and then of Clinton, languishing in chains, and doomed to long imprisonment in a lonely dungeon. She thought of her sister"s wasted affections, betrayed confidence, and blasted hopes, and contrasting _her_ lot with her own blissful destiny, she turned aside her head and wept.
"Weep not, Helen," said Arthur, in a low voice, divining the cause of her emotion, and fixing on the retiring form of Mittie his own glistening eye; "she now sows in tears, but she may yet reap in joy.
Hers is a mighty struggle, for her character is composed of strong and warring elements. Her mind has grasped the sublime truths of religion, and when once her heart embraces them, it will kindle with the fire of martyrdom. I have studied her deeply, intensely, and believe me, my own dear Helen, my too sad and tearful bride, though she is now wading through cold and troubled waters, her feet will rest on the green margin of the promised land."
And this prophecy was indeed fulfilled. Mittie never became gentle, amiable and loving, like Helen, for as Arthur had justly said, her character was composed of strong and warring elements--but after a long and agonizing strife, she did become a zealous and devoted Christian.
The hard, metallic materials of her nature were at last fused by the flame of divine love. She had pa.s.sed through a baptism of fire, and though it had blistered and scarred, it had purified her heart.
Christianity, in her, never wore a serene and joyous aspect. Its diadem was the crown of thorns, its drink often the vinegar and gall. It was on the Mount of Calvary, not of Transfiguration, that she beheld her Saviour, and her G.o.d.
Had she been a Catholic, she would have worn the vesture of sackcloth, and slept upon the bed of iron, and even used the knotted scourge in expiation of her sins, but as the severe simplicity of her Protestant faith forbade such penances, she manifested, by the most rigid self-denial and strictest devotion, the sincerity of her penitence and the fervor of her faith.
Was Miss Thusa forgotten? Did she sleep in her lonely grave unhonored and unmourned?
In a corner of Helen"s own room, conspicuous in the mids of the elegant, modern furniture that adorns it, there stands an ancient bra.s.s-bound wheel. The bra.s.s shines with the l.u.s.tre of burnished gold, and the dark wood-work has the polish of old mahogany. Nothing in Helen"s possession is so carefully preserved, so reverently guarded as that ancestral machine.
Nor is this the only memento of the aged spinster. In the grave-yard is a simple monument of gray marble, which grat.i.tude and affection have erected to her memory. Instead of the willow, with weeping branches, the usual badge of grief--a wheel carved in bas relief perpetuates the remembrance of her life-long occupation. Below this is written the inscription--
"She laid her hands to the spindle, and her hands held the distaff."
"She opened her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue was the law of kindness."
THE END.
ELLEN PICKERING"S NOVELS.
Either of which can be had separately. Price 25 cents each. They are printed on the finest white paper, and each forms one large octavo volume, complete in itself, neatly bound in a strong paper cover.
THE ORPHAN NIECE.
KATE WALSINGHAM.
THE POOR COUSIN.
ELLEN WAREHAM.
THE QUIET HUSBAND.
WHO SHALL BE HEIR THE SECRET FOE.
AGNES SERLE.
THE HEIRESS.
PRINCE AND PEDLER.
MERCHANT"S DAUGHTER.
THE FRIGHT.
NAN DARRELL.
THE SQUIRE.
THE EXPECTANT.
THE GRUMBLER.
T. S. ARTHUR"S WORKS.
YEAR AFTER MARRIAGE.
THE DIVORCED WIFE.
THE BANKER"S WIFE.
PRIDE AND PRUDENCE.
CECILIA HOWARD.
MARY MORETON.
LOVE IN A COTTAGE.
LOVE IN HIGH LIFE.
THE TWO MERCHANTS.
LADY AT HOME.
TRIAL AND TRIUMPH.
THE ORPHAN CHILDREN.
THE DEBTOR"S DAUGHTER.
INSUBORDINATION.
LUCY SANDFORD.
AGNES, or the Possessed.
THE TWO BRIDES.
THE IRON RULE.
THE OLD ASTROLOGER.
THE SEAMSTRESS.