CHAPTER XIV. CONVALESCENCE.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 177, 18 August 1876, Page 6

CHAPTER XIV. CONVALESCENCE.

Physically, Laura Marten was slowly recovering, but her mind appeared to be still overshadowed with a heavy cloud. From the first ttawu of returning intellect she had mused from her finger the ring of her betrothal ; the loss was like a continual fire eating into her heart, for she had instinctively divined into whose possession it had fallen. She spoke of the loss to no one j within, the thought dwelt continually, and her friends sought, without success, to cheer her spirits ; she did not rally, she showed no interest in anything, but seemed constantly searching for something which she could not find. The first thing that aroused hor in the least, was the letter from Lieutenaut Harl-

land, which the Doctor had forwarded as soon as Eosine had given it to him. It was held back by her father at first, lest it. might excite her too much, but when day after day went by and there was no change, it was resolved to try what effect the letter would have in arousing her from her apathy. Accordingly, one September morning, as Bhe was seated in the invalid's chair, drawn toward the eastern window that she might have the influence of the early sunlight, and the prospect of the lovely scene that nature spread before her, Captain Marten entered with the Lieutenant's letter in his hand. She did not turn her head to greet her father, but continued to gaze down the long avenue of pines, that brought such fearful memories. An intense melancholy pervaded every feature ; twice her name was called ere she gave a look of recognition. The rough old sailor was softened by trouble, and his voice wavered as he said in a tone meant to be jolly, "Laura, ducky, are you ready for a line from the Commodore that is to be, I mean Aleck Eartland ?" There was no cliai^fein the stony expression of her face, and not a spoken word as she held out T her hand for the letter. The Captain was at a loss to know if he' should leave her alone with her treasure, but she settled that matter by a wave of the hand that indicated her wish. As soon as the door closed she kissed the precious missive over and over again, pressed it to her heart, laid it in her lap and wept over it, till after many minutes with trembling fingers she ventured to break the seal and read — "On board the X , off Cadiz, July — . " My Precious One : "A letter from Ned last night exasperated me, and I was so like a madman that I only escaped reprimand from the Captain by pleading illness. Your letter came after it, like healing balm to my spirit. I could not doubt your love ; in spite of Red's malicious hints, I have perfect confidence in you. It would be dastardly in me to wish to deprive you of gentlemen's society during my absence ; I leave my honor in your hands with unwavering trust." At these words Laura uttered a shrill, piercing cry, that soon brought her father, her aunt, and most of the servants to her room ; she struggled for composure, but a fearful paroxysm of hysterics was not to be avoided. She grasped the letter convulsively, and it could not he taken from her wtihout tearing it into fragments. Hours passed brfore the physician could calm her agitation, and weeks passed before she could again sit at the window and gaze down the pine walk. Who can doubt that He that marketh the sparrow's fall, guideth the steps of his dear ones ? Sister Agnes was called at this time on an errand of mercy to a charity child, in the very house where Laura was ill. It was a balmy sunny day, such as the closing hours of September often bring to charm us with a remembrance of the past, when Laura heai d the gentle tones of Sister Agnes' voice, as she interrogated Mrs. Norris with regard to the orphan. "Bring her here," said Laura to the servant in attendance ; "I must see her, I cannot wait, she will help me, bring her here now— I can't wait." Her manner was hasty and imperious. After a short consultation below, the good sister was conducted to the room of the invalid, followed by Captain Marten and Mrs. Norris. " All of you go," said Laura ; " I wish to see Sister Agnes alone, and I don't wish to be interrupted." They obeyed reluctantly, her father whispering to the sister as he went out, " The poor thing is not quite like herself." " Please lock the door, and sit here," said Laura, pointing to a chair beside her own. Sister Agnes did as she was requested, and took Laura's hand affectionately. " I'm sure you don't know how wicked I am, or you would not have come near me," whispered the sick girl. " Our dear Lord did not spurn the chief of sinners, and He will not turn away from us," replied she, pressing the hand she held. " I've been thinking of that," continued Laura, her eyes brightening a little. "He let that poor woman wash His feet, that's what I'd like to do." " My child, if that is your wish, He welcomes you to His arms." " But I can never repair what I have done," she said, relapsing into the dull, care-worn look. " I can never restore lost confidence." "We must leave results with the same Blessed One who loves us and cares for us more than any human being can possibly do." " O, but you don't know all," sighed Laura, and hastily putting out her hand, as if afraid of a temptation to draw back, she took a jewel-box from a drawer near by, and searching in it with trembling lingers, beneath a heavy bracelet, she brought out a slip of paper, and placed it unopened in the hand of her frimd. "Tell me," she said, in a hollow voice, " what you tliink of one who after that, could through vanity and love of admiration, be so unfaithful as to have offered to her the insulting alternative of elopement with another?" For a moment her eyes flashed wildly, and her face flushed-crimson. " Love of admiration ! vanity !" she soliloquized, taking a hiind.glass from the table and looking at herself, " there's nothing to call them forth now." She was indeed changed ; the heavy braids of her long raven hair were gone, her head sha\en and covered with a close cap ; her bright, healthful color replaced by sallow paleness; her eyes, once so lustrous and fascinating, were dull and heavy with disease, the plump, finely rounded figure emaciated, and the quick, brisk manner changed for an inability to move without assistance. Sister Agnes carefully read the paper, while the sick girl made these comments upon herself. There was a look first of surprise and wonder, then of sadness and distress, as she closed the paper, giving it again to Laura without comment. " You agree with me," said the invalid, after waiting for her companion to speak, " one can hardly hope, after such misconduct." " Our dear Father is more merciful than man," replied Sister Agnes, slowly. '• He forgives and restores us to His favor, but He does not assure us of the pardon of our fellow-men, or that we shall escape, the temporal disgrace and suffering we may have brought upon ourselves. A full confession of our faults to those we have injured is necessary to our peace." " Will you help me, guide me, and keep me ?" exclaimed Laura, pitifully, clasping her hands.