CHAPTER XXV.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 142, 20 February 1886, Page 6

CHAPTER XXV.

" TRUST AN JJ, WAIT." When Grace Campbell resumed her place in the household and society agajn, she seemed changed to every one. It was a change, however, which no one could analyse or explain— an indefinable j something which one felt rather than saw, | and which, if possible, enhanced instead of detracted from her loveliness. Her own family attributed ifc to the state of her health, and, for a time, were somewhat anxious about her, devising various experiments to arouse and amuse her ; while Annie was her devoted shadow, hovering about her continually, anticipating her wants, and striving in every way to coax back the old smiles to her lips and the former brightness to her eyes. There were times when Grace felt as if she could not endure to have the young girl near her; when the sound of her voice caused her pain ; when the sight of her face seemed to pock her with its delicate beauty, and the light of the great happiness shining from her eyes would almost make her cry out with agony. Yet in spite of all, she loved this beautiful girl— indeed, she had come to regard her with the affection of a sister, and she would have misled her sadly had anything occurred to separate them. The first time she met Rich, after learning of his engagement to Annie, it seemed as if heart and strength would fail her, and if she could have dropped at his feet and out of existence at the sams time, she felt that ifc would have been a blessed release. " Why did I need to love him lika this ? Why was I allowed to surrender the most sacred feelings of my heart to him, only to have all my future blighted and destroyed ?" she cried out within herself, with an overwhelming sense of rebellion and wretchedness, as she allowed him to take

her hand in greeting, while he looked sympathetically into her face, oxpressing regret for her^rocent illness, and a fear that she was not quite herself yet, " Quito herself !" She knew she would nover be her bright, joyous self again ; the world would never jethe same to her ; everything was changed, darkened, eclipsed. But she tried to be brave, and make as light as she could of her recent indisposition. " I am well enough, only everybody seems determined to make a baby of me," she said, in reply to him, and with a smile which, somehow, smote him with a feeling of uneasyness, while the haunted, almost agonised look in her dark eyes, which she could not wholly conceal, try as she would, made him regard her closely and wonder what had caused this suddon change in the hitherto gay girl, "I am afraid you have not been willing that others should do all thoy mightfor you," Rich responded, kindly. What waa there that any one could do for her poor, crushed heart ? was her inward cry, and which almost arose in wild rebellion to her lips; but she compelled herself to answer, smilingly : 11 Oh, you have no idea what a tyrant I am when lam ill, Indeed, I havo kept Annie dancing attendance upon my whims for the last three weeks to such an extent that I have been expecting you would call mo to account for the lo^s of some of her roses." She said this with a meaning glanco, for I she wanted him to know that she had discovered the relation, that he bore toward Annio. He gave her a quick, startled look Something in hor tone touched a sensitive chord in his nature and jarred upon it. 1 ' I do not believe that her rosos havo suffered very much, and I am euro sho has only been happy in being of sarvico.to you," he returned. "She would bo happy doing, good anyv/boro," Grace said, heartily ; then, af.er an instint's pauso : "Perhaps you may consider mo a triflo premature, my friend, but I waut to toll you that I havo discovered her secret and "yours. You havo won a treasure, Mr Waldemar, and I kno.v that the future must seem very bright to you. I only hope nothing may ever transpire to ronr it." She had done it ! She had faced the whole bitter truth at last, belioving, according to that homoly old adagro, that ," if you grasp a nettle firm Ay-it will not sti.ftg so sharply." She had 'told herself that if shd could only safely pass this first trying ordeal all would bo well, and she could more calmly fa-co all that would follow. But she had rather overestimated her strength, for tho lips which wished him so bright a future were colourless ; hortono, in spite of its forced heartiness, had a note of despair in it, and her eyos a look that made Rich shrink involuntarily, whilo a halfdefined suspicion of the truth forced itself upon him. But he thanked her, with more of gravity and seriousness than ho might have done, and Annio coming into the room at that moment, the conversation drifted to othor and more general topics, while Grace closed that chamber of her heart as she believed for over, locking within it the secret of her hopeloss love. A few clays later she wont to see Miss Waldomar, instinctively feeling that she might derive comfort of some kind from the grand, beautiful woman. Audrey know at once why she had come. She read in her eyea, in that grieved look about hor mouth, that some hear t-sufforing, which so many years ago had left its impress upon her heart ani face, and the Bight of which in another even now probed the old wound afresh. ! ' 4 1 believe this hot summer has taken all the life out of me. Miss Waldemar," Grace i said,_ after greeting her, while she sank I wearily into a chair, and untying tho strings of her pretty hat oast it carelessly upon the floor. "I am tired all the time now, and so restless that it seems as if I must get out of sight and sound of all familiar objects." She sat rocking slowly back and forth for a few moments, looking about the charming room. "How cozy and lovely you always are here !" she resumed at length. " How restful you yourself are, dear Miss Waldemav "—with an earnest, wistful look into Audrey's face, so beautiful in its calm repose — " But you have led rather a lenely life, top, haven't you ? What is tho secret of the quiot happiness and peace that I always find about you ?" Audrey's lips quivered slightly. This beautiful girl was coming very near to her in her unconscious appeal for sympathy and comfort. Did come mysterious influence reveal to her that she, too, had suffered as she was suffering now, and could thus more effectually minister balm to her wounded spirit ? " Yes, dear, I have led a very lonely life — that is, compared with that of many others, and I havo known a great deal of trial, . and pain, and sorrow," Audrey answered, feeling that perhaps a little of her own heart history might help the young girl to bear hor trouble better, '* You lost your parents when you were quite young, I believe. Did you ever lose any othor near friends ?" Grace asked, with downcast face. " Yes ; I lost one nearer and dearer than father or mother, sister or brother— that was my sorest trial," Audrey said, sadly. *' Did— did he die ?''— in a low, constrained tone. ;'TCo." " Oh !" — with an indrawn breath that was almost a sob — "then how-can you be so at peace ? Does it not haunt and follow you day by day, and hour by hour? Do you not have to fight the menory of it still inch by inch?" y The strained, repressed tones of these eager questions told how keen her own anguish was. " No, dear ; all that is parsed, " Miss Waldemar said, quiotly, " though there was a time when I felt like that— when I fought battle after battle ; when I waa rebellious, angry, despairing ; when it seemed as if earth could hold no possible future good for me, and when I would havo been glad to lay down all of life's burdens and let my weary spirit go out into the great unknown." Oh ! how like it was to her own struggle. " But how did you conquer it all ?" " I did not conquer. 1 Grace's tearless, burning eyes wore raised in surprised inquiry to the fair calm face opposite her. Miss Waldemar smiled sadly. "I see you think otherwise," she said, " but it is true, nevertheless. I never could have conquered a trouble like mine. I was like one battling in a hopeless cause. I was proatrated by a hundred wounds, every one of them mortal, and yet I fought on until wearied out, despairing, I could fight no longer, then / laid down my arms. But lam talking enigmas. Let me begin at the beginning." Audrey then and there related the sad story of her life to the sorrowing, heartstricken girl bafore her. But she was not half-through when Grace I startled her by throwing herself upon her knees beside her, burying her face in her lap, sobbing and weeping, in the utter abandonment of grief. '

But Audrey talked on, laying all her heart open boforo her. Tears, blig knew, would relieve the sufferer. i "I do not soe how you havo borne it," murmured a smothered voice from her lap, when Audrey had finished her gad story. • "At first 1 bore it only because I could not help it. If I had possessed the power, I would havo made everything give way, that I might rogain my loßt happiness." " But, dear Miss Waldemar, content and peace did come to you after a time ?" " Yoa, dear, but it was only— as I said before— when J laid clown my arms," Audrey answered, almost tearfully. "What do you mean by that? Please tell me." 11 I mean that all my wild grief, my angor, my rebellion and inward battling, were but woapons turned against ono who, for some wiso purpose, had bent my great sorrow upon me; and when I had laid them all down and surrendered my will to Hie, the hand that smote me began to heal me." Grace Campbells face became very thoughtful "I know it is natural to question the wisdom of such a'lllictions, and to rebel against fate," ""continued Audrey; "but there' is a talisman againet all such antagonism— ijb is,p,nly one little word of five letter?. Trust* It is' very poworful, howover, and, if'rightly'used, will conquor all ills. As I look back to tbat sad timo of which 1 have told you I still feel keen pain, and I cannot sco, even no\y, just why I need to have lost sg."much out of my life. But, dear, I 'havo learned to trust the hand thai wounded me, believing •it -wi ( ll never lead wron£. Ido not know what thero may bo boforo me, but be it pain or ioy, weal or wob, I know that our kind Father abevo' never makos a mistake, and that some limp - porhaps on the other sido 1 shall be able to trace out all the pattern of my lifo, which looks^ so .mixed and strange here, and fipd; that it will harmonise porfectly." Grace look th.c hand that was softly, caressing her cheek, and drew ib almost reverontly around to her lips, but stifling o sob by the act". "What a lovely way of reasoning," she said, in a tearful voice. " But did you never fed as if you would not submit— as if you would dp something dreadful rather than bear it V Audrey's face was very grave, and she bent a troublod took upon tho girl. "I am .afraid 1 was vory rebellious at times—weakly/ s^.« But did it nover occur to you that .tve- might not -bo put- hero merely for our, otnn happiness— that there i<* something, nobler A&'nd more enduring to work for? I beliovo if I knew that there is something nobler and more enduring to work for? I bolieve if I knew that there was still much more of sorrow for me, I should be willing to go patiently on to the ond. But," Audrey continued after a pause, " I am afraid I have saddened you with my unhappy story, co lot me give you a motto, which if trouble should ever come to j you, may help you to bear it. " Yes, tell me— l should liko to know it," | Grace said, eagerly. ) Miss Waldemar bent down and looked full into the eyes raised so earnestly to hers, I and her tone was tender and tremulous as she said : "Lay down your arms ; then trust and wait." She kissed the forehead of the beautiful girl as she spoke, and then bogan to talk of something else Sho knew well enough — as well as if Grace had told her — that her heart was almost breaking with the weight of a bitter disappointment.