T 
 
 
 M 
 
 des 
 
 
 
 
 
 Florie Witlingham Pickard
 
 Florie Willingham Pickard.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH 
 
 BY 
 FLORIE WILLINGHAM PICKARD, 
 
 " Remember March, the ides of March remember." 
 " I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, 
 
 A stage where every man must play a part, 
 
 And mine a sad one." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 
 BROADWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 835 BROADWAY, NEW YORK
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A CLOSER union of our country, the sanctity of life in 
 our American homes, the terribleness of sin, the sor 
 rows resulting from war, are some of the thoughts that 
 form the motive of this hook. 
 
 It is doubtful if this hook would have been written 
 but for the encouragement which I received from my 
 husband, William Lowndes Pickard, author of "Under 
 the War Flags of 18G1," and of many poems and liter 
 ary articles. His love of the beautiful in literature has 
 been my inspiration while writing "The Ides of 
 March." If this book shall help some to have nobler 
 conceptions of life, I shall be repaid for these years of 
 incessant work. THE AUTHOR.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Remember March, the ides of March remember." 
 
 " The baby figure of the giant mass 
 Of the things to come." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 MoTHER-bird chirps her last notes to her fluttering 
 nestlings, busy bees cease their daily toil, little chicks 
 tuck their downy heads beneath soft feathery wings, old 
 tired sun kisses the pink roses into drooping repose, and 
 the heavy odors of jessamine, oleanders, and honey 
 suckles, stealing through the open casement deepens 
 the repose of baby Myrtle, as her little head falls wear 
 ily over the arm of old "Black Mammy." Strange no 
 one knew anything of this little Southern bird. Did 
 God send her in the night or day, in sunshine or in 
 rain? Surely her mother can tell. "No, I remember 
 nothing of the circumstances attending the birth of the 
 child, except that she was born on the "Ides of March," 
 and for that reason I called her Idma, yet her father 
 insisted on calling her Myrtle, for some old sweetheart, 
 I suppose. It has passed from my mind now why the 
 name Myrtle was given her, but then, when you have 
 eight children, you, too, will forget these minor things. 
 - Mrs. Dean had invited a dozen or more ladies and 
 gentlemen, the first of the land, to dine at her home. 
 To have an invitation to Mrs. Dean s was quite an 
 
 2137754
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 honor, and was talked of among the ladies for days 
 previous. It was enough for the world to know Mrs. 
 Dean was the wife of the wealthiest planter in the State 
 of - . This made it certain that any reception given 
 at the mansion would he considered the crowning event 
 of all social occasions. 
 
 The hour for the reception was drawing nigh. Down 
 the long avenue, made picturesque with its overlap 
 ping trees, the long gray moss swinging to and fro by 
 the gentle breeze, and where birds were sweetly sing 
 ing here and there, fitly called, "Lovers Retreat," you 
 could see at the first bend of the road the elegant car 
 riages coming, first one, then another, and another. 
 Now one has stopped in front of the gate. It is Mrs. 
 
 C . The conveyance is not turned by the horses; 
 
 oh no, this might jostle the grand lady ; her two foot 
 men take hold of it, and gently lift it around ; thus her 
 ladyship alights without soiling her silks on the wheels. 
 Leaning on the arm of her husband, who is dressed in 
 
 spotless linen, the fashion of the day, Mrs. C goes 
 
 up the graveled walk to the Dean mansion. A servant 
 in livery stands at the entrance to show her the parlor ; 
 there await Mrs. Dean and her eldest daughter, Cath 
 erine, to receive the guests. If any one knew how to 
 give a dinner, it was Mrs. Dean. 
 
 She was a typical Southern woman ; no, this could 
 not be said, for she was too cold-hearted, and shall it 
 be added? Mrs. Dean was an infidel. However, she 
 was a brilliant conversationalist, dignified, ambitious 
 and refined. 
 
 Sweet, soul-inspiring music filled the house. When 
 this ceased intelligent conversation, spiced with wit 
 and repartee, held genial sway. You would think Mrs. 
 Dean was anxious about her dinner, but no, she knew 
 nothing of what would be on the table until the cosily
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 7 
 
 silver covers were removed, when slie and her p: ; c-sts 
 would be seated at the table. This seems marvelous in 
 this day, but thgse of the South who lived in the old 
 regime know it to be true. There were sixteen servants 
 in the Dean mansion, one to cook the cake, one the 
 meat, another the pastry. Each had his special task. 
 Hence it is no wonder that things went like clock-work. 
 Away, now, into the conservatory to inhale the per 
 fume of opening buds. The soft, sweet music, the 
 chirping of birds in the tall trees near by, and the low 
 murmur of the fountains, all tended to make one feel as 
 if he were in an enchanted spot. But what was that? 
 A feeble sob of an infant catches the ear. 
 
 Well for the nurse Mrs. Dean did not hear that cry, 
 for although she had eight children, go when you would 
 you seldom heard a sound from them. To know how 
 she managed thus, you must understand more of the 
 beautiful yet cold mother. In Mrs. Dean s room, on a 
 spotless white bed, for the mother did not believe in 
 spoiling babies by rocking them in a cradle, lay the 
 little babe, Myrtle Dean. A peep at the precious darl 
 ing shows a tear glistening on her white, chubby cheek. 
 And those eyes ! could you once see and forget? Even 
 through her tears they flashed fire and sweetness, 
 hatred and love. It has been said the eyes are win 
 dows of the soul; it was only too true in this little one s 
 case. The nose was Grecian, the mouth showed refine 
 ment. The complexion was snowy white. The small 
 dimpled hands would have been meet for a model in 
 art. The hair, dark and wavy, was as fine as silken 
 skeins. She was a good-natured baby, but easily 
 frightened. Awakening and hearing unusual sounds, 
 she had given a faint wail. The old black mammy 
 (bless her tle.-ir old soul) hurried io the baby * side, 
 and as she bent over the tiny form, the little one gave
 
 8 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 her a look, trying to find out, in her baby way, if she 
 were friend or foe. When baby saw love in old black 
 mammy s eyes, sweet trust came into hers; it was then 
 the little face turned to say, she could not speak but by 
 looks, "I love you nursy." The little chubby hands 
 went up, the tiny feet kicked against her long, white 
 dress, and she commenced to coo in her sAveet baby 
 voice. Dear Myrtle, even as a babe, how you loved to 
 be loved, ready to meet all more than halfway ! 
 
 Love pure and undefiled is seldom given. Hold it 
 baby, hold it child, hold it man, hold it woman, in 
 whatever guise it comes, hold it fast ! It is thy great 
 est jewel. Bind it about thy neck. Guard it well; 
 rich or poor, high or low, it comes to all some day; 
 but how few of us can say the thief has not come and 
 stolen our treasure in an unguarded moment; and we 
 have wept and wailed in our despair. Love, love, sell 
 it not for gold, for worldly honor, for ambition. 
 
 " Mightier far 
 
 Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway 
 Of magic potent over sun and star 
 Is love, though oft to agony distrest, 
 And though his favorite seat be feeble woman s breast. "
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " How much the wife is dearer than the bride." 
 
 Lord Lyttleton. 
 
 A FEW months previous to Mrs. Dean s dinner party, 
 far off in another State, sat Mrs. Waldo in a low, wil 
 low chair by a large window. In her dainty white 
 hands, was a fine cambric needle. In her lap lay a 
 long, white dress. Each little tuck and each little puff 
 had been made by those same dimpled hands, through 
 many days and nights. On a chair near by were some 
 of the finest-textured fabrics, placed there to have the 
 finishing lace whipped on the little neck and sleeves. 
 All in the room was the perfection of neatness. The 
 spotless white bed was high from the floor. The car 
 pet had been taken up for the summer and a new mat 
 ting took its place. The bright rugs were artistically 
 placed here and there. The quaint mahogany furniture 
 was highly polished. An old lazy cat lay asleep in the 
 sunshine. The curiously wrought clock on the mantel 
 ticked the hours into days. There were pieces of deli 
 cately designed fancy work on dresser, chair and table. 
 Should you have entered the room a glance would have 
 been sufficient to convince you it was the love retreat of 
 some fair creature. As Mrs. Waldo bent over the 
 dainty work she hummed the old song : 
 
 " Come rest in this bosom, my own stricken dear; 
 Though the herd have fled from thoe, thy home is still here; 
 Here still is the sraile that no cloud can o ercast, 
 
 a band all thy QYFP, $9 tljo last,
 
 10 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 Oh ! what was love made for, if it is not the same 
 Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame ? 
 I know not, I ask not, if guilt s in that heart, 
 I but know that I love thee whatever thou art. 
 Thou hast called me thy angel in moments of bliss, 
 And thy angel I ll be mid the horrors of this; 
 Through the furnace unshrinking, thy steps to pursue, 
 And shield thee, and save thee, or perish there too !" 
 
 The birds in the cedars near the window did not sing 
 with more melody nor with half as much soul as Viola 
 sang to-day. The violet-blue eyes, hid by long, droop 
 ing lashes, turned at times toward the window, thence 
 far over the fields of ripening grain. The gentle breeze 
 that wafted the sweet perfumes of the jessamine and 
 magnolia blossoms played about the head of Viola 
 Waldo, blowing the shining ringlets from the fair fore 
 head. The song ceased ; a half sigh came to the ruby, 
 pouting lips. Viola leaned far out the casement as if 
 to catch a glimpse of some loved object. "Oh, why 
 don t my sweetheart come. There! getting up has 
 made me drop my scissors and thread, I wish my dear 
 boy were here to pick them up for me. Oh, can it be a 
 sin to love so much? If so, I am lost, for I know my 
 dear husband is my idol. I wonder what makes me so 
 sad to-day? I have five children that are more than 
 beautiful, and they are so good and sweet ; my every 
 want is supplied, a husband that for twelve years has 
 made each month more of a honeymoon than the one 
 previous. He has but one thought the love and hap 
 piness of wife and children. I know I have the blues 
 now just because I wish to see him. Well, I do not 
 believe I can get out of a big cry." Viola went over 
 to the low couch, with its crimson cushion, and buried 
 her head in its soft folds. The band that bound her 
 hair came loose, and now a shower of gold was over the
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 11 
 
 plump shoulders and white, dimpled arms, that could 
 be easily seen through the fine sheer muslin. 
 "Oh, sweetheart, please come home, why do you ride 
 on that black mare all day? Is it because you look so 
 handsome on her? Have you not enough overseers to 
 look after your business, without staying so long? 
 You say you never leave me over an hour at a time, 
 but it seems more like a year. Oh, sweetheart, if I 
 could have only one wish realized in this w r orld it would 
 be to see you this moment, and have you with me 
 alway." 
 
 "Well, my sweet Viola, already is your wish partly 
 granted," said a deep, manly voice just back of the fair 
 wife. The tear-stained eyes of Viola turned to meet 
 the answering gaze of the large, black, dreamy eyes of 
 her husband. He stood erect, six feet tall, with one 
 hand on the door and the other brushing back the 
 glossy, raven-black hair from his high, broad forehead. 
 His white teeth and firm, chiseled mouth were hid by a 
 thick black mustache. As Ulhugh Waldo stood a 
 moment in the doorway, one of his quaint, humorous 
 smiles made the dreamy eyes sparkle and parted his 
 lips as if to speak love to sweet Viola. 
 
 "Well, little girl, I am waiting for some one to come 
 and meet me. Have those dear feet gotten tired of 
 running to meet sweetheart?" 
 
 At this moment he saw the tears in his darling s 
 eyes ; and in a second he was kneeling by the side of 
 his beautiful wife. "Why, precious, forgive me for 
 teasing you, I did not know these lovely eyes were wet 
 with tears. Let me kiss them away." The husband 
 bent low and showered kisses on the sweet, innocent, 
 childlike face. The lips were kissed, the chin was 
 kissed, the cheeks were kissed, the white neck was 
 kissed and the blue eyes were kissed again and
 
 12 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 but the tears would not stay back. As soon as one 
 dewy pearl was kissed away, another, and another 
 would come, as if they loved to be kissed. 
 
 "Why, angel, what is the matter? Tell me, love." 
 He gently raised her from the couch in his strong arms 
 and pressed her tenderly to his bosom. "Precious, has 
 anything happened that you would keep from your hus 
 band? I thought my little girl told me the secret of 
 her every heart-throb." 
 
 "And so I do, my sweetheart. Never in my life have 
 I kept a single thought from you. Is it best thus? It 
 has been said no woman ever told her husband every 
 thing; nor ever did man tell his wife all in his heart; 
 but people can be mistaken." 
 
 "But, little girl, you are keeping something from me 
 now. 
 
 "No, darling, I am not. I cannot tell you what my 
 trouble is. I wish I could. There is something I can 
 not express in words, which makes me feel that a terri 
 ble time is impending ; it seems we are on the eve of 
 some great calamity. I suppose it is very silly to act 
 as I do, but I cannot help it what is it? My heart is 
 about to break. And a sob shook the frame of the 
 beautiful wife. 
 
 "Darling, I must send for a doctor, my little girl 
 must bo sick." Rap, rap, rap! Mr. Waldo put his wife 
 gently from him and went to see who was at the door. 
 "Marster, I jest come to ban dis note to yer." With 
 a low bow the old man left the room and closing the 
 door he stood outside of it, awaiting his master s orders. 
 Opening the paper that had just been handed to him, 
 Mr. Waldo glanced hurriedly over its contents. It 
 was then his ruddy cheeks turned pale as death; his 
 manly form swayed to and fro; his lips quivered and 
 some inarticulate phrase as, wife, children, country, oh,
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 13 
 
 God ! was half -audible to the wife, as she lay on the 
 couch. Viola felt with a woman s quick intuition that 
 now it was time for her to be brave. Knowing her 
 husband did not lose his self-possession for trifles, she 
 arose from where she lay, went to where he stood, and 
 on tiptoe so as to entwine her arms lovingly about 
 his neck, imprinted an affectionate, wifely kiss on his 
 brow. "Ulhugh, my love, what is it that troubles 
 you?" 
 
 From his hands fell the paper, Viola saw it, picked 
 it up and read it, and found therein our fair Southland 
 had now need of her bravest sons. "Oh, Ulhugh, were 
 you afraid to tell me? Would I have been a wife 
 worthy of you, if I did not encourage and help you in 
 everything that was for your own and your country s 
 good? No, never, never my precious husband, will I 
 stay you in your onward course of nobleness and brav 
 ery. Dare any woman take the marriage vows if she 
 has but her own selfish being to please? Should it not 
 be her greatest joy to have her husband s interest her 
 iirst and sweetest duty? Ulhugh, my darling, go, your 
 country calls you ; do not tarry for the loved ones here 
 at home; you have a wife s blessing and her prayers 
 let me seal it with a kiss." Ulhugh Waldo folded his 
 sweet wife in his strong arms ; she leaned her head 
 trustingly on his breast ; it was then the big tears rolled 
 down his cheeks and fell on Viola s golden hair. 
 
 "My noble wife, I am proud more than ever of my 
 little girl. I knew I had a rare jewel, but as the clouds 
 grow darker you shine brighter. Viola, sweet one, you 
 know me too well to think it was cowardice that 
 blanched my cheeks, or the fear of the cannon s mouth 
 that inado these tears no, darling, gladly would I give 
 u;j lii o were it necessary for the good of my country; 
 but, little on^ I luvft some one better $an m.v
 
 14 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 Need I tell who it is? You know only too well, you, 
 my Viola, first, my darling, above all on earth, and 
 next to you, our sweet children. Hear them now as 
 they play hide-and-seek in the yard with laughter and 
 glee. Come, wife, to the window 7 ; do you see our little 
 darlings? Look, there is our eldest, Edward ! what a 
 good, true boy he is ! " 
 
 "Yes," said Viola, "and his mamma thinks he is 
 handsome and noble just like his papa." 
 
 "And there is sweet Maud, the brightest and smart 
 est little girl in all the country, and poor little 
 Ernest, our second boy, sick ever since he had that 
 dreadful fall; dear little darling, he needs our care 
 more than all our children ; and do look at our manly 
 Raymond, he seems to think it his duty to protect his 
 baby sister. And what shall we say of our sweet, 
 saucy, loving, naughty, mischievous Edith, with her 
 golden curls and big, laughing, wicked, yet divine 
 eyes? Papa s baby pet, how she loves me, and oh, 
 how I love her but, wife, it will tire you to stand 
 so long. Come, darling, let us sit by this cool 
 window, while I tell you something else. Give me 
 your hand, I take as much pleasure in holding it 
 now, love, as when you were my bonnie bride; you 
 would not before that time, even though you knew I 
 was crazy for one little touch of your finger. Bend 
 near, sweet one, and listen to my last words before I 
 leave for the battlefield, to fight for my home and 
 native land. 
 
 "Viola, you think you can read my heart, but for 
 once I am glad you cannot, for I feel it is bleeding at 
 the thought of leaving my precious wife and darling 
 children. When I am gone I fear I shall never see 
 them more. I should banish ibis thought, however, 
 for God holds our destiny in His hands and He doeth 
 all things well but listen I hear some one calling, "
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Theirs not to make reply, 
 Theirs not to reason why, 
 Theirs but to do and die." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 THE battle of Manassas had raged fiercely for many 
 hours; but all had become quiet now, and night 
 had thrown her sable mantle in pity o er that dark and 
 bloody field; and the pale, full moon cast her weird, 
 silvery rays athwart that awful scene. 
 
 Among the wounded was the gallant Waldo. As he 
 was one of the bravest, he was found in the front ranks 
 of the battle, and was now giving his life as a sacrifice 
 for his country. Yes, Ulhugh Waldo had fallen mor 
 tally wounded and was lying on the damp, cold ground 
 in his life blood, that was now slowly ebbing away. 
 Oh! could you read the thoughts of that dying man? 
 A relief it would be to die and rest from pain; but 
 what of darling wife and precious children, and one 
 little babe that has never known a father s kiss, no 
 tossing up and down in papa s strong, manly arms? 
 And let it here be written, a father can love with the 
 same undying devotion as a mother, even if he has 
 never borne this reputation. Does not God compare His 
 love to that of a father s pity for his children? 
 
 "Is it true my poor wife can live but a few days? 
 Sweet it will be to meet her in heaven, but oh ! what 
 will become of the six orphan children? The world 
 was kind to them when they had a father and mother s 
 care; then they needed no other attention, but now in
 
 10 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 their direst distress, when they cry for pity abuse alone 
 will bo their portion." 
 
 The big tears rolled down Mr. Waldo s cheek and 
 mingled Avith the pool of blood that poured from his 
 wound. The brave man groaned, but it was from his 
 sad thoughts of home and not for any physical pain. 
 He took his large handkerchief and placed it to his 
 wound to stanch, if possible, the fast-flowing blood. 
 His thirst becoming almost unbearable he lifted his 
 canteen to his y mouth; there was only a mouthful oi 
 water in it, but this would suffice to cool his parched 
 lips. The dying man was about to drink when he 
 heard a piteous cry: "Oh, sir, will you not give me one 
 drop of water ? I feel my life depends upon it ; water ! 
 water! please sir, or I die." 
 
 Mr. Waldo turned his head to see who the speaker 
 was. A handsome lad in blue uniform lay just within 
 touch. Even in the flickering rays of the pale moon, 
 one could see this was no mean son of the far North. 
 The white brow was broad and full, and every feature 
 of the wounded youth marked him as a son of high and 
 noble birth. 
 
 "My good lad. I am glad you spoke in time. I am 
 older and can stand hardships better than you. Take 
 this water and drink it, my boy. I am thankful I have 
 it to give you." 
 
 The thirsty youth took the canteen and drained it to 
 its last drop. "Oh, thank you sir, I feel better already. 
 If I only had something now to tie about my arm to 
 stop the blood, but I do believe I shall bleed to death 
 before I can get any aid." 
 
 "Let me see your arm. my lad, I am somewhat of a 
 surgeon myself. Yes, it is a painful wound, but noth 
 ing dangerous, if we can stop the bleeding." 
 
 In another moment Mr. Waldo had snatched the
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 17 
 
 handkerchief from his own wound and with the assist 
 ance of the lad bound the cloth tightly about the boy s 
 arm. 
 
 "I think this will answer now, until you can get 
 further help, my boy." 
 
 But the exertion was too great for Mr. Waldo. His 
 wound seemed to open afresh and mother earth re 
 ceived, drop by drop, his life blood. 
 
 "Sir, what can I do to repay you for your kindness? 
 I feel that my life will be saved through what you have 
 done for me." 
 
 "My boy, do not thank me. I did no more than I 
 believe your father would have done for a son of mine. 
 I am dying, but there is one thing, however, I would 
 ask of you." 
 
 "Tell me what it is, sir. I will do anything you 
 request of me if it is in my power." 
 
 "Lad, it is this: I have a baby son, whom I have 
 never seen, born since I came to war; his name is 
 .Ulhugh Waldo. If ever you meet him in life and he 
 needs your aid, will you help him?" 
 
 "I will, sir, indeed I will." 
 
 "My boy, dip your finger in my blood and swear by 
 it, that if ever you can add to the pleasure and happi 
 ness of my baby boy, whom I have never seen, yet love 
 with all a father s pure devotion, swear to me, that you 
 will help him." 
 
 The finger of the lad was dipped in the flowing blood 
 of Ulhugh Waldo, then the dying man held the boy s 
 hand high. Thud! thud! thud! three drops of dark, 
 muddy fluid came down and beat upon the breast of 
 the dying man with a dull, heavy sound. 
 
 "My boy, thy oath is trebly bound. May you take 
 the same sweet joy in coming to my boy s rescue that 
 I did to yours. Go, my lad ; thy brother in blue calls
 
 18 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 for help; but we are all the same now, because of our 
 trouble. We have lived apart here for a short time, 
 but soon in Heaven many of us, the Blue and the 
 Gray will be reunited as loving brothers! Wife, in 
 death I loved you as in life. Children, papa loved you 
 to the last. Lad, I die bend and kiss me for my baby 
 boy." 
 
 Over the manly figure, the "Blue" over the "Gray," 
 stooped the youthful lad, scarcely more than a child in 
 appearance, and reverently imprinted a kiss on the cold, 
 damp brow of the dying soldier. 
 
 "I am ready to go now. Come, Lord Jesus! come 
 quickly! Jesus th-o-u a-r-t h-e-r-e! A-m-e-n! And 
 thus did the soul of Ulhugh Waldo go to meet his 
 God 
 
 " Another s sword has laid him low, 
 Another s and another s; 
 And every hand that dealt the blow, 
 Ah me! It was a brother! "
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 19 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " And let me wring your heart, for so I shall, 
 If it be made of penetrable stuff. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 THH news had come that Mr. Waldo had fallen in 
 battle. But could any one have courage to tell the 
 poor, dying Viola? At last one day after she had slept 
 with an almost deathlike swoon, Viola opened her 
 dark-blue eyes and looked toward the kind physician. 
 
 "Oh! I have had such a fearful dream, I thought I 
 saw my dear husband lying on the battlefield bleeding 
 to death; and because of his suffering I cried and 
 moaned. Oh ! yes, I know my husband has fallen in 
 battle, mortally wounded. I shall never see him more. 
 What a relief it would be to my mind if I knew he was 
 free from his suffering." 
 
 The good doctor thinking this the best time to break 
 the sad news to Mrs. Waldo, bent near her emaciated 
 form and his voice became tender and tremulous. 
 Mrs. Waldo, your noble husband is indeed free from 
 pain and is at rest. You know that he w r as a man pure 
 and righteous, and now that you have an assurance of 
 his happiness in heaven I hope you will try to be calm 
 and bear your troubles as a Christian woman, and as a 
 wife well suited to a godly man." 
 
 Mrs. Waldo gave one long, low moan and held 
 tightly to the bedclothing as if sinking down, down, 
 down. A dreadful darkness seemed to envelop the 
 poor woman but slowly did this pass away and then
 
 20 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 came the big, hot tears from the sunken blue eyes. 
 When Viola used to -\veep her noble husband wiped 
 away the gathering tears, but now she had to bear her 
 grief in silence and alone. Xo, not alone, there is One 
 ever near to catch the faintest sigh. To Him, the 
 great Comforter, she would go and pour out her inmost 
 soul. She prayed, and her prayer, though unspoken, 
 gave her renewed strength. She then thought of her 
 poor, helpless children. 
 
 "Doctor," I wish you to tell me if you think I will 
 ever get M-ell? You know I have been sick for a long 
 time, so tell me candidly if you think there is any hope 
 whatever of my recovery. I have six helpless children 
 and if I am not going to live I should like to make 
 plans for their future welfare. I have no property, the 
 war has made me as poor as it has made all my neigh 
 bors. But if I did have everything, what could six 
 little children do? The eldest is not twelve years old. 
 Doctor, if I am going to die, tell me. I do not fear 
 death, it is only for my darling children I wish to live ; 
 but God s will be done, and if I must die I will have 
 to place my little ones where they can be cared for. I 
 could not die in peace knowing my children had no 
 home." 
 
 "Mrs. Waldo, if you have any plans to make I would 
 advise you to make them." 
 
 "I thank you, doctor, for your candor; I will do so at 
 once. My brothers and sisters have so many children 
 of their own, I doubt if they will take all my darlings, 
 but I have two friends, one an old schoolmate of mine, 
 the other an old college chum of Mr. Waldo. They 
 have no children of their own, and have often wished 
 for one of my darlings. Never did I dream the day 
 would come when I should have to beg them to take 
 one of my little angels. Oh ! my Maker, help me to
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 21 
 
 drink this cup and may I not murmur. These friends, 
 Mr. Felix and Mrs. DeLong, are not in this neighbor 
 hood. Doctor, I wish you would send for them as soon 
 as convenient, and also tell my brothers and sisters I 
 would like to see them." 
 
 The sick woman s request was immediately complied 
 with, and in due time came Mr. Felix and his wife, 
 Mrs. DeLong and husband, and all the brothers and 
 sisters of Mr. and Mrs. Waldo. The sad-hearted Viola 
 sent word for all to come to her room. In a few min 
 utes friends, brothers, and sisters had taken their places 
 around the bedside of the broken-hearted woman. Mrs. 
 Waldo made repeated efforts to speak to those about 
 her, but it seemed almost a deathlike struggle. 
 
 "I have sent for you, but I believe it will kill me to 
 tell you why I called you, yet tell you I must, and may 
 my Father in Heaven help me! Sisters, brothers, 
 friends, the doctor has said I can. at best, live but a few 
 more days. Under these circumstances I deem it my 
 duty to provide homes for my little children. I have 
 no money, but some of you have asked me more than 
 once to give you one of my little ones. The day has 
 come when I can grant the request, which at one time, 
 before I would have thought of such a thing I would 
 have had my body severed in twain. Must I say it? 
 Yes! I have sent for you to know which of you will 
 take my jewels." There was a deathlike silence in 
 the room, only broken by the sobs of Mrs. Waldo, when 
 Mrs, DeLong bent over the sick woman and kissed her 
 hot brow. 
 
 "Viola, do not grieve, as I have ever loved you from 
 a girl, I will love one of your little darlings. Give to 
 me your youngest little girl, Edith, and when I behold 
 those eyes that look so much like yours I will love her 
 for your sake and the happy days gone by. I have no
 
 22 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 children of my own, yet I have always wished to adopt 
 one, but could never find a child that just suited me. 
 I have wealth, even luxury, and every advantage shall 
 be given to your little Edith; and I here solemnly 
 promise, with God as my witness, to do for your child 
 as if she were my own and here is a friend, I believe, 
 of your husband, Mr. Felix, who wishes to see you." 
 
 "Mrs. Waldo, I have never seen this good woman 
 before, but what she has promised to do for your little 
 girl I will endeavor to do likewise toward another child. 
 I wish a little boy that looks most like his father and 
 with your permission, will take the little boy that is 
 just a year and a half older than his little sister Edith. 
 Yes, I would have for my little boy, Raymond, and to 
 see this child is to love him, for he has one of the best 
 faces I ever saw. Mrs. Waldo, do not grieve because 
 of this child you give to me ; to my dying day he shall 
 find in me a father kind and true." 
 
 While the conversation was going on in the sick 
 chamber, the sisters and brothers of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Waldo had retired to another room, and were hotly dis 
 puting about the division of the children. Those that 
 had professed most love for the children when they 
 needed no help, were now the very ones who denounced 
 them and called them spoiled and wished to have noth 
 ing to do with them. Some said they thought it very 
 hard to take other peoples children when they could 
 barely support their own. Each man told why he 
 could not take any of the children to his home, but gave 
 ample reasons (to his mind) why each other brother and 
 sister should take a child, and thus they fussed and 
 fumed and quarreled until some of their angry words 
 came to the ears of the poor, sick woman. At last Mr. 
 Lane having taken a second thought, and turning the 
 matter well over in his mind, decided to take a child
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 23 
 
 who would save him paying servant s hire. "What a 
 fool I have been not to have thought of all this before 
 why a girl that belongs to you can be made to do 
 anything; wash dishes, cook, iron, milk cows, scour, 
 and no telling what she might save me. I will say at 
 once I will take the eldest girl before some one else 
 thinks of the same thing. " So with these thoughts and 
 only his own sordid interest at heart, Mr. Lane arose, 
 and with an air of sanctity said : "I feel it to be a great 
 responsibility to raise another s child, but some one will 
 have to come to the rescue of these dear little children, 
 so I am willing to do my duty, and I will take to my 
 home the eldest girl, Maud. 
 
 Mr. Laman remembered he needed another plow 
 hand. "I will take Edward, the eldest boy." 
 
 But who would care for Ernest, the afflicted child? 
 This dear little fellow had fallen down the steps when 
 quite small, and having thus injured his spine suffered 
 agony at times, and it was known to every one that he 
 would never again be well. Now Mr. Homan thought 
 this a fine chance to make a good bargain. 
 
 "You all know this child is sickly, but if each of you 
 will agree to give me a few dollars per month to defray 
 his expenses I will take him." 
 
 Every one in the room agreed to this proposition, not 
 that they desired to help little Ernest, but they feared 
 being called mean and stingy by the other members of 
 the family. There was one exception to this contract, 
 however: Mr. Deely preferred taking a child rather 
 than pay the few dollars a month. He was getting old 
 and wanted a child to wait on him when he should be 
 come more feeble. It was true he had a boy of his 
 own, but he thought too much of him to let him work. 
 
 "What about the baby boy? It will be quite a diffi 
 cult task to raise so young a child, but some one will
 
 24 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 have to undergo the labor, and it seems the lot has fal 
 len to me, as no one else has offered to take him. Be 
 it so, tho little Ulhugh shall be mine." 
 
 Mr. Felix and Mrs. DeLong came in the room at this 
 moment. 
 
 "We have taken Raymond and Edith." 
 
 The aunts and uncles greatly rejoiced at this good 
 news and for awhile the discussion ceased. Mr. Felix 
 thinking that at some future time the aunts and uncles 
 might wish to claim the little boy he hud chosen, told 
 Mrs. DeLong he intended making the little Raymond 
 his own by law, so as to prevent further trouble. Mrs. 
 DeLong was glad Mr. Felix had thought of availing 
 himself of the law in securing Raymond, and would 
 herself pursue the same course in reference to Edith. 
 All the aunts and uncles thought this wise of Mr. Felix 
 and Mrs. DeLong and intended to follow their example. 
 In this way they could work the children more and no 
 one would dare interfere. An officer of the law was 
 immediately summoned, witnesses were called in, and 
 the almost dying woman was propped up in bed to sign 
 away her six children. God alone could fathom the 
 sorrow and anguish of that poor creature. If she had 
 been called upon to sign the death warrant of her little 
 darlings she could not have grieved more. One by one, 
 each little boy and each little girl was hers no more ; 
 till at last when she came to sign away her little babe, 
 Ulhugh he that bore his father s name the pen fell 
 from her thin hand and sobs shook her form. The quill 
 was soon given back, however, and with an effort that 
 seemed to take her very life away, Viola "Waldo signed 
 the sixth and last paper, and then fell back on her pil 
 low almost senselesf!. 
 
 Mrs. DeLong vrLfliC-d to remain with her dear friend, 
 but her husband had a pressing business engagement
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 25 
 
 in New York, which made it impossible for him to 
 tarry another hour at Mrs. Waldo s home, and as Mr. 
 Felix had to return immediately to Philadelphia to 
 attend to matters of urgency, Edith and Raymond s 
 clothes had to be packed forthwith. 
 
 Old Mammy Finn felt the judgment day must be 
 near at hand. As the dear old soul folded each little 
 dress and each little apron, she moaned and groaned, 
 mumbling some inarticulate phrases to herself, and 
 wiping the big tears from her good, honest eyes. "Oh! 
 my heart, what gwine be de next ting? Is da gwine 
 to tak Misses chillen from her fore she gwine dead? 
 Can t da let her be put under de groun fo da sap rate 
 sister an brodder?" 
 
 But go the children must, and oh, what a pitiful 
 sight ! The darling little Edith did not realize more 
 than that she was going to town to get candy and 
 apples. She went around nodding her little curly head 
 and saying to her brothers and sisters: "Oh, me so 
 happy ! me doin wid de dood lady and she say she doin 
 to det me a heap ub putty tings, and me doin to bing 
 my ittle baby budder turn and all you turn, and nursy 
 turn too, an she doin to det me a dolly too, and when 
 my fete mamma dets well she will dess my dolly so 
 putty so I tan sow it to my dear papa when he turns 
 home but dear papa stays way from his pet Evif so 
 long, me so tired waitin for him to turn home, and lub 
 and tiss his ittle baby." 
 
 Was it strange Mrs. DeLong had to brush the tears 
 from her eyes before she could see to tie on little Edith s 
 cap? Hastening as much as possible their necessary 
 departure, Mrs. DeLong took the little darling in her 
 arms. "Edith dear, let us go and tell mamma good- 
 by, you must be a good little girl and not cry, for 
 mamma is sick and we must be very quiet." Mrs.
 
 26 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 DeLong then opened softly the door of the sick-room. 
 There rested Mrs. Waldo as white as the sheets on 
 which she lay and she seemed now almost rigid in death. 
 Mrs. DeLong not wishing to disturb her friend, whis 
 pered to Edith: "Throw a kiss to mamma, my darling, 
 we will wake her if we go any nearer. The child 
 kissed her chuhby hands again and again to her mother, 
 yet Mrs. Waldo knew of nothing that was going on in 
 this world. The little Edith lisped sweetly, as Mrs. 
 DeLong was closing the door: "My fete mamma, me 
 tumin back to see you to-morrow an me doin to bing 
 you turn putty ibbins to make you nice bows for your 
 bootiful dolden hair, des like mine, so papa tays." 
 Edith then went around telling her brothers and sisters 
 good-by, the two eldest of whom were crying, for they 
 had begun to realize things were going wrong, and 
 then she told her aunts and uncles good-by. These 
 kind relatives did not hurt themselves with tears, for 
 they looked upon the child s departure as a good rid 
 dance. But when Aunt Finn, the kind old black 
 mammy nurse, took little Edith up in her arms and 
 hugged and squeezed her, and then put her down and 
 ran out the back door so that she would not see the little 
 one start off in the carriage, it was then Edith com 
 menced to cry. "Me don t wanter do, tause nursy 
 tyin, she want me to tay wid her. Ou do det te putty 
 tings and me will tay here til ou turns back." 
 
 Almost the same scene transpired at the departure of 
 Raymond, the little boy Mr. Felix had taken. Mrs. 
 DeLong and Mr. Felix having taken their departure, 
 the owners, for no other name is applicable to those 
 who had taken the children, told the little darlings to 
 make haste with their packing, for they ought not to be 
 about their sick mother any longer. Maud, the eldest 
 daughter, begged so hard to stay with her dear mother.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 27 
 
 The doctor says my poor mother can live only a short 
 time, please aunt and uncle do not take me from her." 
 
 But her aunt and uncle had taken council together. 
 "We must show her from the first, our will shall not 
 be disputed. You have got to come now, and we do 
 not wish you to be acting a baby either. It is not 
 essential that you should kiss your mother, you are put 
 ting on entirely too many airs." So poor Maud only 
 looked at her mother from a distance and was leaning 
 her head against the door crying when her uncle caught 
 hold of her arm. "Stop that foolishness and come with 
 me this minute. " When Mr. Laman told Edward to 
 come with him the child went without a word, for he 
 had found words were of no avail, but could you have 
 See the boy s face you would have known his stoicism 
 did not mean submission to the will of a cruel uncle. 
 Then, when the little Ernest, the poor afflicted child, 
 was told that he would have to go, the dear child crept 
 softly into his mother s room and knelt beside her bed 
 and buried his little head in the folds of the covering. 
 
 "Oh! my dear mamma," and his little voice quiv 
 ered. "I know when I leave you I won t have any 
 body to love me. When I am tired and sick, who will 
 ever kiss me and be sorry for me, and pet your little 
 Ernest?" How he longed to throw his arms about 
 his precious mother and kiss her, but he knew he could 
 not do this without disturbing her, so he simply pressed 
 his lips to the pillow on which his dear mother lay. As 
 he did so, he touched the thin hand of the poor, sick wo 
 man, who gave a low moan. Then the dear little fellow 
 with a deep sigh (for one so young) left his mother s 
 room feeling indeed a friendless orphan. Mr. Deely 
 wishing Aunt Finn to take charge of the little Ulhugh 
 until- the child should be large enough to care for him 
 self, endeavored to find a plausible excuse so that the
 
 28 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 nurse might keep the baby. "I think it is a sharao to 
 take the children from my dear sister in this way; we 
 should wait until the end has come before she is bereft 
 of all her loved ones. " Oh, it is hard to believe any one 
 could be so full of hypocrisy. Thus was Ulhugh left 
 with Aunt Finn, to the delight of that good old soul, 
 who had almost lost courage but now that the baby 
 was spared to her she felt she had something to cling 
 to. 
 
 How long did little Ulhugh rest in his black mam 
 my s arms? Did his uncle ever come again for him? 
 What was the end of the little boy? Ah ! shall you 
 know it all 
 
 " Since knowledge is but sorrow s spy, 
 It is not safe to know. "
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 29 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Travellers must be content." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Dean returned from the war he found the 
 lovely homes of his neighbors, together with his own 
 beautiful mansion, burned to ashes, his provisions all 
 taken, and horses and cattle driven away. The good 
 man felt that he too must go, for he had no home now 
 to induce him to remain longer. 
 
 I will go to another part of the country and try and 
 rebuild my fortune. I may have more heart to work 
 among new scenes and new surroundings, for I do not 
 care to stay here where everything reminds me of that 
 happy past, which can never be again. Yes, I had 
 best leave for another State." 
 
 Oh, what a day was that, when the Dean family had 
 to start they knew not where ! Only one wagon and two 
 mules left out of a large number. Yet Mr. Dean hoped 
 these would be sufficient to take his family and two 
 trusty servants, "old Daddy Mike" and "Mammy 
 Rachel," who said they would go with "Mosser" (this 
 dialect, although quaint, is in perfect keeping with the 
 negroes in some sections of the far South) and "Misses" 
 if they had to walk all the way and starve. "No, 
 Mosser, we do stick to unner till de good Lord do 
 call us fum dis here worl of sin and sorrow, we bare 
 do, so help u-5 Jo Lor;l. " 
 
 Was it strango Mr. Dean brushed away a tear.
 
 30 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 From whatever source ;, kindness might come he was 
 always a man to appreciate its worth. 
 
 "Well, Mike, if you insist on going, I will do all I 
 can for you. 
 
 As no time was to be lost, Mr. Dean gave his orders 
 to Daddy Mike to pack and store away in the wagon 
 some of the more necessary things that would be needed 
 in a regular camp life. Each child wished to carry 
 away some little keepsake, ne a chair, one a doll, one 
 a pretty cup, one a book, but baby Myrtle, the child of 
 "The Ides of March," that ill-omened day, took her 
 little kitty in her arms and pressed it closely to her 
 breast, kissing it again and again. When her old nurse 
 saw the cat, her superstition broke forth. 
 
 "De law, baby, unner mustn t tak dat cat, I alway 
 hurd dat it be bad luck for to take cats wid miner Avhen 
 unner lebe a place." 
 
 But baby Myrtle held fast to her kitty, and when 
 Mammy Rachel tried to take it away she screamed so 
 that the kitty gave a piteous mew. 
 
 Mrs. Dean sat weeping and wringing her hands. 
 "Who would ever have thought that I, Mrs. Dean, 
 would come to this the richest woman in the land, 
 to ride through the country in a wagon drawn by mules, 
 and to have to camp out upon the wayside?" 
 
 Mrs. Dean was not the only woman that could be 
 agreeable and affable in prosperity, but become soured 
 in days of adversity. Her husband, however, was good 
 under all circumstances, and tried in every way to com 
 fort his wife. 
 
 "Do not grieve, my dear, the Lord sends affliction 
 that He may purify us and make us better men and 
 women. Let us receive His chastisement with meek 
 ness and submission." 
 
 "Mr. Dean, and the wife s voice was harsh and
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 31 
 
 cold, "leave me, I do not believe in your God and will 
 not listen to your religion." The pious husband turned 
 away with a deep sigh, wondering to himself how it 
 was possible for one so beautiful as his wife to be so 
 ungodly. Their servants remained and performed their 
 accustomed duties until the last moment. Their home 
 spun aprons often going to their eyes to wipe away the 
 honest tears. 
 
 "Jest tink dat Mosser and Misses hab to leabus; 
 what is we gwine ter do, de Lord only knows." Each 
 servant took her favorite among the children in her 
 arms and pressed him warmly to her breast. Lord 
 bless Tinner, honey. Good-by, good-by." 
 
 The children gave the servants that they loved most 
 many little mementoes, and the good old black "mam 
 mies" and "daddies," gave to their favorite pets some 
 token of love, a wooden paddle, a spoon, a tiny piggin, 
 a monkey made out of a peach nut, an alligator tooth, 
 a snail shell, a string of beads, a basket made out of 
 pasteboard and the scrapings of cow horns, and many 
 other quaint articles that highly delighted the children 
 who began to store their gifts away in the wagon, be 
 lieving them to be treasures of great value. Every 
 thing being now ready for the journey, Mr. Dean stood 
 in the wagon and stretched forth his hands for silence. 
 
 "My servants, the time has come for us to part. I 
 say good-by with a heavy heart for I know that I shall 
 never again meet some of you on earth, but I have read 
 the Bible often enough in your midst for you all to 
 know the straight and narrow way, and if we act right 
 nothing will keep us from meeting in heaven." 
 
 When Mr. Dean sat down there was a wail oLsorrow 
 that went up from the heart of every honest, faithful 
 negro. Mr. Dean instructed old Daddy Mike to drive 
 on, for his heart was now full to overflowing. When
 
 C:> THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 the wagon started with its slow, heavy movement, some 
 of the negroes fell to the ground in a swoon, many t- -v> 
 their hair, others moaned and groaned, with tb. . 
 bodies swaying to and fro, while others leaped upon f 10 
 wagon and clung to it as if to stay its progress, utter 
 ing words that sounded like a dirge. 
 
 "De Lord do bless unner Mosser, de Lord do bless 
 unner Misses, and de Lord do bless unner little chillis ; 
 de Lord do please do dis for de sake of us poor black 
 niggers, de Lord grant us dis yer partition, Amen! " 
 
 The wagon was out of the yard by this time, and as 
 it passed out of sight the poor negroes could be se?a 
 wiping their eyes with their big red handkerchiefs and 
 homespun aprons. The children in the wagon cried 
 and would not bo comforted. They waved their little 
 hands and threw kisses to their old black mammies. 
 In fact they did everything to show their love for the 
 good old faithful servants they were leaving behind. 
 A bend in the road separated forever those who had 
 lived so ha.ppily together. Ah, sad day; yes, sad alike 
 to both master and slave. 
 
 Baby Myrtle seeing her mother looking sad, went up 
 to her and laying her little head on her lap said, 
 "Mamma, is oo rick? my dear mamma, me so sorry." 
 
 "No, child, I am not sick; go away. I don t want to 
 be bothered with children now; I have enough to turn 
 me crazy as it is here, nurse, take this child." 
 
 It was not necessary for Mrs. Dean to call Myrtlo y 
 nurse. The child was quick and sensitive, and if the 
 mother had looked at the little one and seen the pain 
 dep cted upon her face and the sad, downcast counte- 
 nane, she would have known this child would not long; 
 bestow her love on one that would not return it. The 
 baby turned to her nurse with tears in her eyes. She 
 did not cry, but her little heart was broken. Oh ! littles
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 33 
 
 Myrtle, this is only the beginning of sorrows. Your 
 mother has never loved you. Before you came into this 
 beautiful world your mother did not want you, and 
 then when you were born it was on the fatal "Ides of 
 March, and your mother received you with a frown 
 that was as dark as that ill-omened day. When your 
 laughing eyes met your mother s as you lay on her lap 
 to be nourished, never did an answering smile greet 
 you. No wonder you cried and no one could tell why, 
 your little soul knew there was something wanting it 
 was love! only love! 
 
 "Chilun," and the little ones crowded about Mammy 
 Rachel, "unner der been good chilun, I is got fresh 
 candy for unner. I make it for unner, case I knowed 
 unner want some on dis here trabbling." 
 
 After the children had eaten their candy Mammy 
 Rachel told them she would be ready in a minute to tell 
 them a ghost story; and "all about dem memaids and 
 jack-may-lanters, and dem hanted houses." Now, did 
 you ever know children to tire of these dreadful tales? 
 What if it did frighten them, as soon as Mammy Rachel 
 finished one story they shouted for another. "I better 
 not tell you no more, case unner will be too scared to 
 sleep to-night ; ax Mike to gib unner a little tune. 
 
 The children now crowded about Daddy Mike, de 
 manding a tune. The old man then put the reins between 
 his knees and throwing his head to one side, placed his 
 mouth-harp to his lips and soon were heard weird, curi 
 ous sounds : 
 
 "Ungle, wangle, single, sangle, mingle, wangle 
 ding: ungle, wangle, fmgle, fangle, dingle, dangle 
 ting: single, sangle, mingle, mangle, ringle, rangle, 
 tingle, tangle ting: mingle, mangle, tingle, tangle, 
 lingle, langle, fingle, fangle fing ! Now if the great 
 Beethoven had heard this discordant medley it is prob-
 
 34 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 able bo would have committed suicide on the spot; but 
 remember there are few that have their souls attuned 
 to sweet concord of sounds. The "jingle" and "tingle" 
 were the very things that delighted the children, and 
 they shouted again and again for more. Old Uncle 
 Mike played another and another tune and thus did the 
 day pass away. Dusk settled o er the earth just as the 
 small band of refugees neared the banks of a beautiful 
 stream. There the weary travelers encamped for the 
 night. Old Daddy Mike gathered np all the light 
 wood knots and built a big fire. Mammy Rachel went 
 to the wagon and got materials for cooking supper. 
 
 The meal being over Mr. Dean called the children 
 and servants about him: "Stir up the fire, Mike, while 
 I go to the wagon and get the Bible." The sacred 
 book was soon brought, and some of the children sat 
 on old logs, while others on the long tongue of the 
 wagon. The servants stood respectfully back of the 
 little ones. What a picture : The large trees festooned 
 in long gray moss; the sighing of the tall pines; the 
 low murmur of the crystal stream, as it rippled o er its 
 white pebbled bed, kissed by the silvery moon the 
 bright fire crackling and blazing, as it cast its flicker 
 ing rays upon the peaceful group. There were the 
 boys, two missing, but those that remained w r ere as 
 handsome as were ever before seen. The girls from 
 budding womanhood to baby Myrtle, would have each 
 made a model sufficiently beautiful for the artistic taste 
 of the great Angelo. Mrs. Dean, haughty and cold as 
 the frost that enveloped the night, sat in her queenly 
 beauty, thinking of her past glory. Mammy Rachel 
 held the little Myrtle in her lap and ever and anon 
 whispered to the child. "Unner must be good baby 
 now, papa gwine to read de Bible." Daddy Mike 
 stood just a little back of his master, holding his hat in
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 35 
 
 his hand and looking intently on the ground. His hair 
 was as white as snow, and trustworthiness was stamped 
 in every line of his good, kind face. Mr. Dean with 
 his black hair and eyes 3 and a face that at times as 
 sumed an expression as gentle as an injured fawn, 
 Avhen she pleads for mercy at the hands of the hunter, 
 sat now with the holy Bible on his knee, turnimg over 
 the leaves of that sacred book. 
 
 "Before reading let us sing that grand old hymn : 
 "How Firm a Foundation." 
 
 With the exception of Mrs. Dean all joined in the 
 sweet song, even to Daddy Mike and Mammy Rachel. 
 Mr. Dean s deep, melodious bass harmonized well with 
 the rich, clear soprano of his eldest daughter, Cathe 
 rine. Baby Myrtle tried as best she could to lisp the 
 words of praise. Did you ever hear an old beloved 
 hymn sung in the midst of a forest with the darkness 
 and stillness of night wrapped about you? If you 
 have, you know that not until death will you forget the 
 feeling of reverence that then took possession of you ; 
 and if you have not no words can possibly convey to 
 you the inspiration of such an hour. 
 
 The song having ceased Mr. Dean turned to the 
 ciii. Psalm commencing: "Bless the Lord, O my soul; 
 and all that is within me, bless His holy name. After 
 reading these comforting words there was a prayer 
 of thanksgiving offered to God. When the prayer was 
 ended, the children went to papa to receive their usual 
 good-night kiss. Then Mammy Rachel took the little 
 ones and tucked them away in the wagon. 
 
 Mr. Dean remained on a large log by the fire, as there 
 was not enough covering for all. Old Daddy Mike 
 also got near the blaze and gave it a poke. He then 
 sat down on some light wood knots and putting his 
 head in his hands, leaned over till his knees met his 
 face, and in this position w r as soon fast asleep.
 
 36 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 An hour later and all in the little band about that 
 camp fire were lost in deep slumbers, except one little 
 one, whom you would have supposed would have been 
 the first to sleep. This was baby Myrtle. Her little 
 eyes were stretched wide open, for the screeching of the 
 owls, the snoring of Daddy Mike, and the weirduess of 
 the shadows that were cast by the flickering firelight, 
 made the little one afraid. "Nursy, me is told, and 
 me do hear dat dedful noise." 
 
 "Yes, hunny, unner is, but mammy is here and she 
 gwine der cubber unner up now and stay by unner so 
 nuthing won t hurt mammy s baby," and then as the 
 old nurse patted the little one to sleep she sang in her 
 quaint way: Go to sleep, mammy s sweet baby, goto 
 sleep, mammy s sweet baby; unner des know mammy 
 lub you, unner des know mammy lub you ; go to sleep, 
 my sweet baby." The little eyelids drooped, the little 
 lips parted into a smile, the old nurse crept by the side 
 of the baby child, and soon the hush of sleep, the 
 silence of the midnight hour, and the ever watchful eyes 
 of our Heavenly Father was upon the weary band of 
 refugees.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 37 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Come in the evening, or coine in the morning; 
 Come when you re looked for or come without warning." 
 
 Thomas 0. Daois. 
 
 IN one of the Northern States, in a home of luxury, 
 ease, culture, and refinement, sat Mrs. Lamont, deeply 
 asborbed in thought. For two hours she had tried to 
 read, but had failed. The book lay unheeded in her 
 lap. A deep sigh escaped from her white lips; her 
 bosom heaved ; her eyes turned ever and anon to the 
 door, as if looking for some one; the September gale 
 whistled through the keyholes and seemed to mock the 
 sad woman. 
 
 Mrs. Lamont could stand it no longer, and arising 
 let the book drop from her lap and paced to and fro in 
 the long room. "Anything, everything! rather than 
 this dreadful suspense ; my heart will break if the strain 
 upon it lasts much longer. " Passing her hand over her 
 forehead she brushed back the soft, once auburn tresses, 
 but now gray from sorrow. Her grief was too intense 
 for tears. At last the poor woman sank upon her knees 
 to commune with her God Oh, Jesus, take care of rny 
 boy. Bring him back to my arms. He is all I have. 
 Master, if it be Thy will, give my precious boy to me 
 again." 
 
 So deep was Mrs. Lament s grief that she did not 
 heed the gentle knock at her door, nor see some one 
 enter and stand a moment at the threshold and then 
 kneel softly by her side. What a beautiful sight to be-
 
 38 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 hold ! The high-born lady kneeling with the firelight 
 casting its lights and shadows upon the sad, yet lovely 
 face. Her neat black dress, with spotless white lace 
 at neck and sleeves, made her to appear almost nun-like 
 in her apparel. One hand was on her heart, while the 
 other pressed her throbbing temples. Her face wore 
 an expression of calm submission to the will of God. 
 It was when the struggle was over and Mrs. Lamont 
 felt that God doeth all things well, that some one had 
 entered the room and gazed for a moment on that lovely 
 countenance that seemed as if it were an angel s face. 
 
 The scene was one of awe everything was sacred 
 and holy. The stranger took his soldier s cap respect 
 fully from his light hair, and ere another moment 
 passed he was kneeling by Mrs. Lament s side. In his 
 hand was a musket and cap ; over his shoulder hung a 
 dry canteen ; his clothes were dusty and worn ; his hair 
 was long yet this did not detract from his youthful face. 
 As these two knelt all nature seemed to have been 
 hushed. The watch-dog had ceased to bark; the winds 
 had been lulled to sleep ; the old cat that lay on the soft 
 rug by the fire thought it too much effort to purr ; the 
 bronze clock on the marble mantel seemed scarcely to 
 tick ; the family portraits in their gilded frames looked 
 solemnly, yet approvingly down, and our Father in 
 heaven saw these two, His children, and loved them. 
 
 The stranger s prayer was one of thanksgiving to 
 God; and when Mrs. Lamont uttered: "Oh, God, take 
 care of my boy; bring him to my arms, he is all I 
 have; Master, if it be Thy will give my darling again 
 tome." Someone whispered in a voice so soft that 
 the good woman thought she was dreaming: 
 
 "My mother, your prayer is answered; your boy 
 awaits a mother s kiss and blessicg." 
 
 Do you wonder that Mrs. Lamont was dazed with
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 39 
 
 surprise, as she turned to clasp her precious boy to her 
 now exultant heart? Mrs. Lament kissed her boy and 
 then held him from her to look into his face, then 
 showered kisses upon him, alternately crying and 
 laughing. Lenfred laughed and blushed deeply as his 
 mother began scrutinizing him, for he knew his apparel 
 would not bear close inspection. The mother knew 
 why the color came to her boy s handsome face, and she 
 kissed him again to put him at ease. Neither mother 
 nor son spoke, and there is no telling how long this 
 pantomime might have continued had not the supper 
 bell rung and made them conscious of their surround 
 ings. 
 
 "Mother, I believe it will take me a week to make 
 myself presentable j I cannot sit at the same table with 
 you, so please prepare something for me and let me 
 eat." 
 
 The good mother did not wait for her son to finish 
 this sentence, but putting her arms about his neck, led 
 him to the cheerful dining room, where was spread on 
 the snowy tablecloth all the dainty viands a king could 
 desire, much less a hungry soldier boy. Leave mother 
 and son to their supreme happiness. Oh ! the joy of 
 that reunion! Oh! the pleasure of that evening! Oh! 
 the rapture of those hearts once severed but now united 
 in almost heavenly love!
 
 40 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " I cannot but remember such things were, 
 That were most precious to me." 
 
 Shakespeare.. 
 
 MRS. WALDO, strange as it may seem, did not die, 
 but still lingered on her sick-bed to the amazement of 
 all her friends. Her many relatives who had seem 
 ingly thought so much of her when in prosperity and 
 wealth, now that she was ill, poverty-stricken, and 
 could be of no service to them, left her for their OAVII 
 homes. Her nearest neighbor was more than a mile 
 away, so it was seldom she saw any one. Mammy 
 Finn tenderly and gently nursed her and supplied her 
 every possible want. The kind physician came day 
 after day, regardless of the fact that he would never 
 get any pay. God be praised for those pure hearts that 
 live feeling that life is not to be spent in hoarding up 
 riches to be devoted to themselves, while the orphan 
 and widow cry for help. Dr. DeSay was one of the 
 many physicians who never thought of self. May God 
 ever bless those men, who, regardless of weather, even 
 when sick themselves, strive to relieve others; those 
 consecrated physicians who while, they administer to the 
 physical wants of their patients, never lose an oppor 
 tunity to encourage and strengthen the souls of those 
 who are sick. 
 
 Oh! physician! what a grand calling you have! 
 w ever he true to your trust \ God shower his
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 41 
 
 richest blessings upon all who are physicians in deed 
 and in truth. 
 
 The day Mr. Waldo left for the war Viola looked as 
 young and pretty as when a bride, but could tbe hus 
 band now see the wife he would not recognize his once 
 beautiful Viola. Mr. Waldo had been a devoted hus 
 band, and the fair hands of his Viola seldom found 
 more service than that of stroking the silken black 
 locks of her handsome husband. Viola often tried to 
 work, but her servants would cry out in holy horror 
 that such a pretty little thing would soil her white, 
 dimpled hands. She would run to her husband when 
 he came home, and tell him how Aunt Jane and 
 Mammy Finn, and in fact all the servants, would not 
 let her do a single thing. "Why, I believe they think 
 I am a doll-baby;" and then she would look at her 
 husband with those big violet eyes, and pout her ruby 
 lips, and then fall in Ulhugh s strong arms that had 
 opened wide to enfold his little wife, saying as he 
 did so : 
 
 "Why, no, my pet, you are no doll-baby, but an 
 angel instead, and from all I can find out angels do not 
 work. Poor little girl. I am sorry you should have so 
 much trouble, but you know the fairest sky must have its 
 clouds. I know, however, my little pet will be brave 
 now that the clouds are coming so thick and fast. I 
 hope my love for my sweet wife yes, the sweetest wife 
 in all the world will enable her to bear up under her 
 many burdens. " Ulhugh kissed many times his pet s 
 dimpled cheeks that were now crimson with blushes. 
 Viola knew her husband was teasing her, but where is 
 the wife that does not love such rapturous vexing? If 
 Mr. Waldo had loved Viola as a sweetheart, he wor 
 shipped her as a wife his gentleness and tenderness to 
 her brought to remembrance the chivalry and
 
 42 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 of ancient knights for their lady loves. Yes, the hus 
 band had more than excelled the lover in all the little 
 courtesies of everyday life. Was it strange that when 
 Viola s husband was called from her, she was none the 
 less lovely than when a sweet, blushing bride? Do not 
 censure and call the Southern women "Poor little de 
 pendent things." The chivalry, gallantry, and man 
 liness of her men have made her women trusting, cling 
 ing tendrils. The Southern gentlemen wished their 
 wives and daughters to be loving, confiding lovers of 
 home ; and to be so attractive and cheerful and accom 
 plished, that when father, brother, husband came from 
 work, home should be the sweetest, happiest, most 
 blessed spot on earth ! Only men, they said, were made 
 to work and toil. A typical Southern gentleman dur 
 ing the old regime would have thought himself more 
 than a brute had he allowed his wife and daughters to 
 cook, wash, or do the least drudgery. There was noth 
 ing too hard for the husband to perform, but for the 
 beautiful wife and fair daughters where did the good 
 man ever find anything he thought easy enough for 
 their white hands? Oh ! you brave, noble men of our 
 fair, sunny South long may you live in history and in 
 song, and may nations rise to copy your true and sturdy 
 manliness, and may God bless you and your sons, even 
 unto your children s children. Viola was herself now 
 only in name. Grief had stolen the roses from her 
 cheeks and strewn many silver threads through her 
 sunny, golden hair. The once fair and rounded neck 
 and arms were now in unison with the thin pinched 
 cheeks, and caused one to turn away and heave a deep 
 sigh. No, death did not come to Mrs. Waldo, but, alas, 
 her illness had left her only a shadow of the once 
 lovely Viola,
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 43 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " The drying of a single tear has more 
 Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 MR. DEAN traveled with his family many days, and 
 inquired of the people of the country so as to decide on 
 some place where he might permanently locate. The 
 children treasured in their minds for years afterward 
 many curious things that happened on that long and 
 tedious journey. Mr. Dean had crossed the border line 
 of his own State, and had gone far south into another, 
 when Mrs. Dean became suddenly ill, and as she was 
 unable to travel further they stopped in a small cabin 
 by the wayside. It was a miserable crumbling log 
 hut, with large cracks filled with daubed earth; a 
 stick-and-mud chimney that looked as if it might fall 
 at any moment; no floor but the dark powdered dirt; 
 no window but a hole cut in the logs ; and no water 
 within a quarter of a mile. 
 
 This for awhile was to be Mrs. Dean s home. What 
 a step ! from a grand mansion to a crumbling hovel ! 
 The small, one-roomed hut was made as habitable as 
 possible. There was erected in one corner a stationary 
 bed, made of old boxes and small pine saplings, two 
 sides of which were nailed into the logs of the cabin to 
 keep it from falling. Upon this unsightly and uncom 
 fortable improvised resting place the proud, queenly 
 Mrs. Dean was only too glad to lay her weary head. 
 Spiders, bugs, lizards, snakes, and even scorpions were
 
 44 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 found in the hut, to the fear and consternation of the 
 children and servants, but all these horrors had to be 
 endured, for Mrs. Dean was now too ill to be removed. 
 Mr. Dean nursed his wife through that long spell of 
 typhoid fever with all the devotion of a true husband ; 
 but had she not possessed a wonderful constitution she 
 could never have endured the privations and vicissi 
 tudes of that trying period. No doctor ever came near 
 the hut, for there was none to be found, but so tender 
 was the care Mrs. Dean received, and so attentive were 
 her husband and Mammy Rachel, that at the end of 
 several weeks she was able to sit up, and in course of 
 time she was herself once more. 
 
 Mr. Dean began to travel again and in due time he 
 came to a country luxuriant in sugar cane, cotton, 
 watermelons, green corn, sweet potatoes, peas, ground 
 nuts, chooffers, clover, hay, oats, and everything 
 needed by man and beast. In the lowlands were long 
 rows of rice, and in the fence corners were blackberry 
 bushes covered with luscious fruit. The woods were 
 full of huckleberries, and earlier in the spring the 
 May-haw had covered the ponds with its red fruit. 
 Peaches, pears, apples, figs, pomegranates and plums 
 were plentiful. Surely this place could satisfy the 
 longings of any planter; and Mr. Dean s heart beat 
 with exultant expectations as he rode on in search of a 
 dwelling which he soon found. 
 
 Several weeks passed, however, before Mr. Dean 
 could make permanent arrangements for the purchase 
 of the land. He was indeed a happy man when he 
 realized that he had once more a home for his family, 
 for they had long been sadly in need of one; yet it took 
 days of laborious work to get the house in a condition 
 to be occupied. 
 
 All in thQ fo roily who were large enough, worked
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 45 
 
 hard, with the exception of Mrs. Dean. She had no 
 intention of ever degrading herself by scrubbing and 
 scouring. When Myrtle saw her older sisters climbing 
 to the top of the large goods boxes, piled one upon the 
 other that they might reach, to wash and wipe the high 
 ceilings, her heart beat, for she expected to see them 
 fall every minute. But laughingly and cheerfully did 
 they do their work, for they had too much of their 
 father s blood in their veins to shirk whatever might be 
 put upon them. Myrtle did her part by handing the 
 rags that would drop to the floor, and the child would 
 go every few minutes and get fresh water for her sis 
 ters, and see that they kept supplied with soap ; but for 
 little Myrtle she seemed apart from everything and 
 everybody; no one understood her, and even her broth 
 ers and sisters misconstrued her purest motives; her 
 mother despised her; and her father, influenced by his 
 wife, heeded her not; so she was left to grope her way 
 as best she could. She was no longer the once beauti 
 ful child with chubby limbs and full-arched eyes, but 
 had grown thin, pale, and almost ghost-like. Her 
 cheeks, once so round and full, were sunken almost to 
 the bone ; her hair, once so beautiful and flowing, was 
 now cut short in order to do away with the trouble of 
 caring for it. But in this wide world of ours God 
 generally gives us one friend even though he comes 
 from a place we least expect. Even now little Myrtle 
 found a friend Cecil Clair. But, who is Cecil Clair? 
 Many years before, Cecil s grandfather came over 
 from England with Mr. Dean s father, and settled in 
 Virginia. They were devoted friends, and in the 
 course of time wooed and won two girls who had been 
 friends from childhood. The friends had a double 
 v. o-ldiug, and for yccrs r.f forward lived side by side in 
 a beautiful Virginia village, Their children grew up
 
 46 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 together, and learned to love each other as brothers and 
 sisters ; this continued as the years went by. But in 
 time Mr. Dean thought it his interest to go far south, 
 and Mr. Clair decided at the same time to move to New 
 York. Each worked to better his condition. In time 
 Mr. Dean became a wealthy Southern planter, and Mr. 
 Clair reached the topmost round in the mercantile 
 world. The families though far separated continued to 
 visit each other the Glairs coming South in winter, 
 and the Deans going North in summer. The boys at 
 tended the same university in Virginia, and roomed to 
 gether, and thus true friendship was handed down from 
 father to son even to the third generation. Then it was 
 the cruel war came on. Could friends fight against 
 friends? Must one wear the "gray" while the other 
 donned the "blue?" But duty demanded it even 
 though the blood should curdle and the heart stop its 
 pulsations at the thought of such a direful necessity. 
 
 Mr. Clair, Cecil s father, answered promptly his 
 country s call, as did also Mr. Dean. Mr. Clair stated 
 in his will that should he fall in battle he desired Mr. 
 Dean, if not slain also, to become his son s sole guar 
 dian, ani that he should live South with his (Mr. 
 Dean s) family until Cecil became of age. Cecil s 
 mother had died previous to this, and thus in accord 
 ance with Mr. Glair s will, the handsome, dashing 
 Cecil came to make his home with the Deans. 
 
 Mrs. Dean received him cordially, and gave him the 
 best room in the house. She knew he was the sole heir 
 to his father s vast estate, and this alone was sufficient 
 to obtain her good will. However pure a person might 
 be in character, should he lack money and a great name, 
 Mrs, Dean would never condescend so much as to 
 speak to him. Another reason for Mrs. Dean s being 
 so agreeable to Cecil was that she had an only sister
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 47 
 
 Leita, whom, for a wonder, she idolized. Leita was as 
 different from Mr*. Dean, as if they had not been re 
 lated. She was gentle, retired, and possessed that 
 great element wanting in Mrs. Dean the religion of 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Mrs. Dean had made up her mind to use her influence 
 in bringing about a marriage between Cecil and Leita, 
 but was careful to guard her thoughts well, not permit 
 ting her husband to know them, for well she knew he 
 would say: "Leave Cecil to marry whom he will. 
 God forbid that I should do anything to my friend s 
 child, save what is right and honest." 
 
 Mr. Dean managed Cecil s property as Mr. Clair 
 would have done; and he dressed Cecil as he was 
 dressed in his father s lifetime; he also sent him to the 
 finest colleges in the land when his own children were 
 not able to go, and treated him far better and allowed 
 him far more privileges than his own children. Well 
 did Mr. Clair know wiien he entrusted his son to Mr. 
 Dean that he would receive a father s care, for he knew 
 him to be a man of deep convictions, with a pure, Chris 
 tian heart, thoroughly business-like, and having just 
 such principles as he would like instilled in his son. He 
 feared, however, that Mr. Dean in his anxiety to do the 
 best for Cecil would be too lenient with him and spoil 
 him. Cecil had visited many times before the home of 
 Mr. Dean, and all had learned to love him, so now that 
 lie was to live with Mr. Dean it gave him joy. Well 
 did he remember the little Myrtle with laughing eyes 
 and fat, chubby cheeks, and now when he gazed on her 
 wan face with her sad eyes and thin, shadowy form he 
 wondered to himself if she were the same little Myrtle. 
 A look of pity came into his eyes as he stooped and 
 printed a kiss on her sweet lips, but Myrtle, unaccus 
 tomed to caresses, ran off crying as if her heart would 
 break. Had she at last found a friend?
 
 48 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " A wrecked soul, bruised with adversity." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 How Mrs. Waldo existed after the war would be 
 hard to tell, for her beautiful home had been destroyed, 
 and there had been left to her only one old blind mule, 
 one cow, several pigs, a few chickens, and a small 
 quantity of fodder. Old Uncle Jack plouwed with 
 the blind mule, and made enough to keep his mistress 
 from starving. Aunt Finn cooked and churned, and 
 did the little that was to be done about the cottage. 
 Mrs. Waldo had never been strong since her illness, 
 and to add to her sickness she grieved so much to see 
 her children that at times she felt she would lose her 
 mind. Had she been well, gladly would she have 
 walked the many weary miles that separated her from 
 them, if only to have kissed them once again in life; but 
 she was a confirmed invalid, and was scarcely ever able 
 to rise from her bed without the assistance of Aunt 
 Finn. 
 
 She wrote to them but what answer did the poor 
 woman receive from her brothers and sisters? "The 
 doctor says you cannot live long, and when your chil 
 dren left you, they thought you dying. You know 
 you do nothing for them any way, so let well enough 
 alone ; they think they have no mother, and this is true 
 in that you are helpless to aid them. We do not let 
 them know you are alive, for we know they would be 
 dissatisfied and want to see you ; and, now if you are a
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 49 
 
 true mother, you will let them alone while they are 
 ! nppy. If you had money to provide for your chil 
 dren, it would be quite different. " 
 
 Ah, were these words such as would make a poor 
 invalid mother well? Mrs. Waldo could not write to 
 ,er friend, Mrs. DeLong, for she had gone to Europe, 
 ui.d no one knew her address. She wrote to Mr. Felix, 
 bat 1. er letters were returned from the dead-letter office. 
 SotLo poor woman was enveloped in perplexity, and 
 fou.!:d darkness everywhere she turned. There was left 
 to 1 er, however, one ray of sunshine little Ulhugh. 
 The child s love for his mother was sweet and touch 
 ing. Oh, could you have seen Ulhugh s big, merry, 
 black eyes; round, rosy, brown cheeks j auburn curls, 
 and the sweet smile that played about the corners of 
 his ruby lips, with the dimples ever and anon playing 
 hide-and-seek over his joyous face, you would have un 
 consciously murmured: "What a pity the child is a 
 boy." Yet you could not mistake Ulhugh for a girl. 
 Every line and curve of his face, every movement and 
 gesture told you he was a boy, and verily the son of a 
 noble father; a child capable of impressing himself on 
 all about him. Look at the little fellow now, with his 
 big Newfoundland pet Vinco. The dog had been 
 accidentally hurt, and the little fellow is trying to tie a 
 string about the injured foot of his pet. But he has 
 not learned the art of tying, and as fast as he wraps the 
 string and turns it loose, it drops off. All the time the 
 little doctor talks encouragingly to his pet. 
 
 "Don t tie Binto, me is sorry ou is hurty, but me 
 will tie ou foot up, me will," and then the child would 
 stop and hug his Vinco. 
 
 The dog seemed to know he had some one to sympa 
 thize with him and stood still, as if to see how his little 
 master would succeed in his new profession. As fast
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 as Ulhugh would twist the string and give it a jerk 
 his way of tying a string the dog would flinch, and 
 the child would stop to pet and soothe his patient ; so 
 at the end of twenty minutes he was no nearer to bind 
 ing his Vinco s foot than when he began. 
 
 "Poor Binto, I tellou what les us do les us do to my 
 dear mamma, she can tie it widdout hurtin ou, tause 
 my mamma tan do eny fing. Why, she tan des tiss it 
 and make it well." With these words Ulhugh caught 
 his dog lovingly around the neck "Turn on now 
 Binto, poor Binto, I is very sorry for ou, but me lubs 
 ou, me do." Vinco, seeming to understand all that 
 was said to him, hopped along as best he could by the 
 side of his fair young master until the little fellow led 
 his pet into the presence of his mother. "Mamma, I is 
 bingin ou Binto. He is hurt his poor footy, and me 
 wants ou to tiss it, and make it well des like on do me 
 wen me dets hurt. Hissed him mamma, but my tisses 
 don t chure him ; but ou sweet tisses will chure him in 
 a minute des like dey do me." 
 
 The child looked inquiringly into his mother s face 
 as she lay propped up in bed darning a little blue ging 
 ham apron for her Ulhugh to wear on the morrow. It 
 was quite evident the little fellow thought his request 
 a simple one, and that it would be granted by his 
 mother, for when had she ever said nay to her idol? 
 
 "Now, mamma, top ou sewin dest a ittle file, it ont 
 take but dest a minute to tiss Binto." Vinco hung his 
 head, as if he knew his little master was making a 
 dreadful mistake, but waited patiently for the outcome 
 of such grievous words. Mrs. Waldo put her sewing 
 from her, and caught her darling in her arms and cov 
 ered him with caresses. 
 
 "Oh, mamma dear, top, me is not hurt, it is Binto is 
 hurt wite here on his foot ; now tiss it twick, so it tan
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 51 
 
 det well," and quick as thought the child sprang from 
 his mother s embrace, and held up Vinco s foot in his 
 little chubby hands. The face that met Mrs. Waldo 
 was one of troubled anxiety, yet full of expectant hope 
 for the relief of his pet. Now Mrs. Waldo had never 
 at any time taken a special delight in dogs, neverthe 
 less, she was a woman who could never see the least 
 thing suffer not even something she disliked. But as 
 she looked at her child there was a touch of merriment 
 in her sad blue eyes. "My boy, a nice, kind doctor you 
 would make and simple, sweet remedies you would use, 
 but, my darling, let me put a little opodeldoc on a rag, 
 and bind it to Vinco s foot, and it will get well sooner 
 than if mamma kissed it;" and the mother began im 
 mediately to bind tenderly Vinco s foot. The poor dog 
 seemed very grateful for the kind act, and tried to show 
 his appreciation as best he could in his mute, dumb 
 way by wagging his tail and rubbing his head against 
 Mrs. Waldo s hands. 
 
 "Tank ou, mamma dear. I is doin to be a dottor 
 when I dets to be a big man, and den I will make ou 
 wel, so ou tan wun a wace wid me. A nice dottor I 
 is doin to be, not a bad one; oh no, a mart one. Good- 
 by, mamma dear, turn on Binto, ou is most rel now 
 ain t ou?" In another moment the bright, sunny face, 
 was gone, and the mother was left to herself to ponder 
 over the words of her baby boy "a nice dottor I is 
 doin to be, not a bad one; oh no, a mart one."
 
 52 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "The sad vicissitude of things." Lawrence Sterne. 
 
 "And thus the heart will break, yet broken live on." Byron. 
 
 MRS. WALDO was sitting in her room busily en 
 gaged in curling the auburn hair of her baby boy when 
 Aunt Finn knocked and entered. "Missis, here is a let 
 ter for you, give to me by one of de neighbors. He 
 said he had jist bin to town, and as hit was not much 
 outen his way, he took pleasure in bringing it to you. 
 I hope the Lord hit ain t no bad news." Mrs. Waldo 
 kissed tenderly her little boy "Go play now my darl 
 ing; mamma has finished your hair, and you look so 
 sweet and pretty. " After hugging his mother, Ulhugh 
 took his nurse by the hand and together they left the 
 room. Mrs. Waldo with fast beating heart, she knew 
 not why, hastily tore open the letter : 
 
 "PINE GROVE, Sept. 1, 18. 
 
 "MY DEAR SISTER: I hear that instead of improv 
 ing you are rapidly declining, and that erelong your 
 course will have been run and your journey ended. 
 Your boy, Ulhugh, is now past seven, and must be 
 badly in need of a father, which office it is my duty to 
 fill; for you will remember he is mine, having been 
 signed to me by you when he was a baby. I hope you 
 will not be chicken-hearted about giving him up, but 
 will do so without any further trouble. 
 
 "I am now fully able to do for him, and as you are 
 sick and not in condition to care for him, and as he will 
 have to come to me sooner or later, I think it is better
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 53 
 
 for me to take him while he is young that I may train 
 him correctly. I will send my servant for him to 
 morrow. Have him ready. 
 
 "Your fond brother, 
 
 "A. D. DEELY." 
 
 The letter fell from the poor woman s hands, and she 
 burst into tears. "Will they take my last hope and 
 comfort? Will my trouble never cease?" Ulhugh, 
 who had come to his mother s room to get his ball, saw 
 her weeping, and running up to her put his arms about 
 her neck. 
 
 "Mamma dear, what is the matter? Have I hurt 
 your feelings?" 
 
 "My darling, you have never hurt my feelings in 
 your life. 
 
 "Well, mamma, what is the matter, won t you tell 
 me? I am the only one you have to tell. " He endeav 
 ored as best he could in his childish way to comfort 
 her; yet his words were like daggers to the poor 
 woman s heart. Yes, he was the "only one" she had, 
 and this was why she wept. Mrs. Waldo threw her 
 arms about her little boy s neck and drew him closer 
 to her almost bleeding heart. 
 
 "Oh, that I could always shield and protect you my 
 darling but not so. 
 
 "Listen to mother, my boy, perhaps I can make you 
 understand, although you are but a child in years: 
 When you were a little baby in long dresses, Ulhugh, 
 your father was called to war and was killed, my boy. 
 Mamma was then taken sick, darling, and the doctors 
 said I had only a few days to live. I then tried to find 
 homes for my dear little children. I sent for my broth 
 ers and sisters and two friends and asked them if they 
 would take care of my children for me. Oh, darling, 
 it made mamma so sorry to give her little jewels away.
 
 54 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 All of your brothers and sisters were taken away that 
 same day, you only, my darling, was left, but to-day I 
 received a letter from your uncle oh, my Father, give 
 me strength to tell my boy all that you would have to 
 leave mamma ; that to-morrow he would send a serv 
 ant for you. Oh, my precious, you know now why 
 mamma is so sad." 
 
 Ulhugh listened in quietude, and when his mother 
 had finished he only drew a deep sigh. Oh ! evil day 
 when children sigh ! Seeing him so silent, the mother 
 drew him closer to her breast. 
 
 "Ulhugh, my darling, speak to mamma; tell her 
 you know it was not her fault ; tell her you know she 
 thought she was going to die and was only trying to 
 find a home for all of you. My darling, mamma can 
 not last long anyway, and if I should and you staj ed 
 with me you would always be poor, but if you go and 
 live with your uncle, you will almost have a father. 
 He will send you to school, and you will be a smart 
 man some day. Speak to mother, my angel boy.." 
 
 The child had made several attempts to speak, but 
 his little heart was too full, and he looked down to the 
 floor with the agony of first sorrow depicted on his 
 countenance. At last his sweet little quivering voice 
 whispered: "Whatever mamma does is right; cause 
 my dear, sweet mamma couldn t do anything wrong." 
 
 "Oh, thank you, my precious boy, mother wouldn t 
 take anything for those words, my darling. I will 
 write to you every week, my jewel, when you are gone, 
 and will knit pretty socks, and when you wear them 
 you will think of mamma won t you, my boy? 
 Mamma will pray for her little boy each day, and I 
 know your uncle will let you come to see me sometimes, 
 my darling." 
 
 "Yes, my sweet mamma, I hope. Let me go now,
 
 THE IDES OF. MARCH. 55 
 
 dear mamma and tell my poor doggy Vinco; he will 
 be so sorry." 
 
 The child wished to get by himself and cry, as he 
 knew if his mother saw him weep, it would only make 
 her worse. So he ran to Vinco who was lying at the 
 foot of the steps. "Come, Vinco, come." Then child 
 and dog went to the playhouse, and Ulhugh told Vinco 
 all of his troubles, and putting his head on his pet, sobbed 
 himself to sleep. The poor dog moaned in sympathy 
 for his little master, and seemed glad when he fell 
 asleep. Mrs. Waldo busied herself with packing her 
 darling s trunk. Oh, mother, God grant that you may 
 never have this task to perform. It was like getting 
 her little boy s shroud. The little trunk was slowly 
 but surely packed, and not a garment was folded that 
 did not contain a mother s tear. Some homemade 
 candy, tea cakes, his favorite playthings, and whatever 
 would be appreciated by a little boy were packed away, 
 until at last the sad task was completed. God alone 
 gave this bereaved mother strength to finish it. It was 
 now dusk, and Mrs. Waldo called her darling boy to 
 prepare him for bed. After the little fellow had put on 
 his night robe, he knelt at his mother s knees, and with 
 her hands resting gently on his head said his little 
 evening prayer. 
 
 "Now kiss me good-night, my sweet mamma, and 
 come and lie down and sing me to sleep as you always 
 do; please mamma. " 
 
 "Sing?" thought the mother. "Sing? when rny 
 heart is breaking? But yes, I can do even this, as it 
 may be his last request." 
 
 "What shall I sing, my angel?" 
 
 "Sing Good -by to My Dear Old Southern Home, 
 and Mother Kissed Me in My Dreams, sing, please, 
 my sweet mamma." The songs were sung with a
 
 56 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 bursting heart, yet with ,the melody of a mother s 
 evening song. The child was soon wrapped in slum 
 bers, and his mother turned and truly kissed him in 
 his dreams. Ulhugh rested quietly that night, but 
 what of the mother? It is useless to say she did not 
 sleep, but kept watch all night long over the slumber 
 ing form of her was he hers? no he was hers no longer 
 baby boy. O God. look in mercy and bring comfort 
 to a poor lonely mother and fatherless boy. 
 
 The next morning, sure enough, a servant from Mr. 
 Deely s came for Ulhugh. It is too sad to dwell on the 
 parting of Mrs. Waldo and her son. The mother, tak 
 ing the hand of her little darling, led him into her 
 room, closed and locked the door. Too sacred is this 
 moment; we will not enter, but leave them with their 
 God. 
 
 After a few minutes Ulhugh came out alone, his 
 face sad and to all appearances three years older than 
 yesterday, but not one tear did he shed. His heart was 
 too crushed for tears. He then went back to his 
 mother, who was still kneeling, and imprinted a kiss on 
 her white lips. "My sweet mamma, be happy. I 
 won t forget you, and will love you when I am gone 
 and can t see you." Kissing his mother, the darling 
 boy went to the door, yet he came back again. "Oh, 
 my darling, precious mamma, how can I leave you ! but 
 the man is calling me, and I must go. Good-by, good- 
 by for the last time my sweet, sweet mamma" an 
 other long, loving kiss, and the mother s darling angel 
 was gone.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 57 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, 
 Where oxlips and nodding violet grows 
 Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, 
 With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 CECIL CLAIR was as brave as a lion, yet gentle as a 
 woman; widely read, easy in his bearing, refined, 
 polished, and having just such characteristics as would 
 cause the girls to fall in love with him and vie with 
 each other in trying to entrap him. It was unnecessary 
 that Mrs. Dean should worry about a marriage between 
 Cecil and her sister, for Leita was just the girl for him 
 sweet and trusting. Cecil had gone the rounds of 
 society and had drunk the cup of pleasure so long that 
 he was only too glad to plunge into the new and un 
 tried; hence he was not long in wooing Leita s love. 
 The day of marriage was fixed and preparations for a 
 grand wedding were in progress ; the usual bustle and 
 stir made the days go quickly by to all in the house ex 
 cept Myrtle. It was a grand thing for her that Mrs. 
 Dean was so occupied in her efforts to make the event 
 one of splendor and elegance, for by this means she was 
 neglected, and did not get so many whippings. She 
 spent her time amusing herself as she pleased. Eating 
 her breakfast in the morning she would take from the 
 table a biscuit, put it in her pocket, go to the cistern 
 shed, kiss her kitties good-by, get her bonnet, and go 
 no one cared where. She first went to the peach orchard
 
 58 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 and filled her bonnet full of fruit, and then over the 
 fence picking blackberries from the corners. Thence 
 she followed a footpath which led her to an old lime 
 sink. Picture to yourself a small lake, with banks 
 sloping gently to the clear blue water s edge, slippery 
 with the pine-needles, blown from tall, waving trees a 
 mirrowed basin sunk deep in the midst of the forest, 
 filled with crystal tears, which no sunny rays could kiss 
 aw T ay. Then hear the "Bob-white" of the partridge, 
 the bleating of the sheep, and the far-off tingling of the 
 cow-bell, and you have a faint idea of the sweet retreat 
 to which Myrtle was in the habit of going in her ram 
 bles through the woods. By and by, she got her fish 
 ing line from its hiding place; secured some worms 
 from a decaying log and began trying her luck fishing. 
 First one perch, then another, and so on until she had 
 caught quite a string of them. Very gently did she 
 take the hook from their mouths, giving words of com 
 fort to her aquatic friends. Becoming tired of this 
 sport, she at last put down her line, and lying on the 
 grass looked up through the trees to the far-away skies. 
 "I wonder if that white cloud is God, the next biggest 
 one Jesus, and all those little ones his angels. I won 
 der if I will ever get to heaven. Oh ! to be where Jesus 
 is ! to be where some one will love me ! I know they 
 say Jesus loves me, but I want to be right where he is. 
 so I can put my head on his breast and feel his hands 
 on my head, and to hear him say: Myrtle, poor little 
 child, you have never had any one to love you, but you 
 have come now to where everything is love, and I love 
 you ! Oh, it seems to me that if I had somebody to 
 love me, I would be so happy." Then Myrtle heard 
 the birds in the treetops singing to their mates; she 
 listened a moment and then she too chimed with the 
 birds.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 59 
 
 " Sing, sweet bird, and chase my sorrow, 
 Let me listen to thy strain, 
 From thy warblings I can borrow 
 That which bids me hope again. 
 
 " Sing, sweet bird, sing, sweet bird, 
 Let me listen to thy strain. 
 Ah ! sing, sweet bird, 
 Let me listen to thy strain." 
 
 Cecil Glair, who was riding through the woods at 
 this time on his fine black horse, heard the sweet, melo 
 dious voice, and stopping wondered what it could 
 mean. 
 
 "I must be dreaming. Has an angel taken up its 
 abode on earth? Is it human? Yes, and it sounds like a 
 child s voice, but what child can sing with so much soul 
 and with such sweetness?" Jumping lightly from his 
 horse, and tying him to an overhanging bough, Cecil 
 crept softly in the direction of the sweet music, and 
 there he saw Myrtle lying on the bank. She did not 
 see him as he was completely hid by the boughs of 
 the underbrush. The song had been finished, and 
 Myrtle was softly humming. Intently her large eyes 
 peered into the distance as if two anxious souls were 
 looking and awaiting for something they knew they 
 would never possess. One of the large boughs cracked 
 under Cecil s foot, and frightened the child so as to 
 cause her to jump up and scream. "Don t be fright 
 ened, little one, your friend is near you." In a mo 
 ment, Cecil was by Myrtle s side. She gave him one 
 of those shy, honest looks, but said nothing. 
 
 "Come and sit by me, Myrtle. I want to talk to you. 
 I heard you singing just now, and do you know, you 
 have a voice like an angel. Whore did you hear that 
 song?" Myrtle looked around to see if any one was
 
 60 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 near, and then clasping her little hands together, she 
 fell at his feet and begged him not to tell on her. 
 "Tell what, my child?" 
 
 "Why, that you heard me sing. Oh! brother Cecil, 
 promise me that you will never tell anyone; will you?" 
 
 "Yes, provided you will come out here in the woods 
 and sing to me whenever I ask you ; and further listen 
 child, that when I am come to die, you will sing me 
 into my eternal sleep. What do you think of that, 
 little shy one?" She looked up into his face and met 
 his eager gaze, but quickly did he close his eyes to con 
 ceal the innermost thoughts of his soul. Myrtle s face 
 wore a troubled look. Cecil knew she was timid, but 
 he would hear that voice again, by what means he 
 knew not. "Don t look that way, my child; brighten 
 up, and tell me where you heard that song." 
 
 "Brother Cecil, is that a song? I would come out 
 here in the woods and hear the little birds sing, and I 
 would ask them to sing to me. At first they would fly 
 away, but now they do not mind me, and we just sing 
 together until I get tired and go to sleep. I dream, oh 
 such pretty dreams. I wish I could always live here 
 with the birds and fishes; I would be so happy." 
 
 "Oh, that she was older," thought Cecil. I wish I 
 were not going to be married next month, but she is 
 only a baby yet. 
 
 "What would I do for a little girl, if you were to 
 live here all the time?" 
 
 Her eyes sought his in a questioning gaze, and a dark 
 frown came over her face. Wheeling as if to go, her 
 feet slipped on the pine-needles, and in another moment 
 poor little Myrtle was struggling in the old lime sink.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 61 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, 
 Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn." 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 ULHUGH on leaving home seemed to carry with him 
 all the little remaining strength his mother possessed, 
 for the sick woman sank heavily to the floor, and Aunt 
 Finn came in hastily and prepared her for bed, where 
 she lay unconscious many hours. At length she grew 
 better, and some days would sit in her armchair by the 
 fire, but it always made her worse, and she was com 
 pelled to take her bed the next day. Aunt Finn was 
 ever faithful to her mistress, and seemed to anticipate 
 and supply her wants. At times, the neighbors would 
 drop in to see the sick woman, but very seldom, as they 
 had their own duties to perform. And it was best that 
 it was so, for Mrs. Waldo was too weak to talk, and 
 furthermore, she shrank from seeing any one. The 
 neighbors soon found this out, and Mrs. Waldo was 
 left almost alone. She busied herself, however, in 
 writing to, and knitting socks for Ulhugh. She had 
 tasked herself to do a certain amount of knitting per 
 day, and it was this task alone that kept her from los 
 ing her mind. 
 
 But what of little Ulhugh and the other children? 
 Three years have passed since Ulhugh bade his mother 
 good-by. The child was put to the plow when he 
 could scarcely reach the handles, and was compelled to 
 be up and in the fields by the time it was light; and
 
 62 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 when his day s task was finished, and after feeding his 
 mule, often did he sink to sleep from pure exhaustion 
 in the hay loft and did not wake until morning. In 
 winter he was cold and suffered from frost-bitten feet 
 and hands; in summer he barely escaped sunstrokes. 
 One morning as he came down from his attic Mr. 
 Deely met him in the hall: "Ulhugh, go and catch that 
 mule down in the pasture." 
 
 Ulhugh, knowing how vicious the mule was, hesi 
 tated a moment. "Uncle, I am afraid he will kick 
 me." 
 
 "Go and catch that mule," roared Mr. Deely, stamp 
 ing his foot in rage; "who cares if he does kick you?" 
 
 "Oh," thought Ulhugh, "you are a father indeed! 
 Well are you keeping your promise." And without 
 further delay the boy went to the pasture just beyond 
 the lot, and tried to carry out his uncle s instructions. 
 He gave the mule a good chase, and by and by the 
 mule allowed him to approach nearer. Ulhugh, exult 
 ant over his success, was about to grab him by the ear, 
 when the mule wheeled suddenly and kicked him, 
 knocking him senseless to the ground. 
 
 Mr. Deely, sitting near a window, saw the whole pro 
 cedure, and when the field hands ran and picked up the 
 unconscious boy and brought him to the house, Mr. 
 Deely grew very uneasy. 
 
 "What if the child should die? I would lose a 
 splendid investment, for he is smart, and saves mo con 
 siderable expense: then again, I might be arrested for 
 ill-treatment." No word of sympathy did he utter, 
 and his excitement was caused by fear of losing a good 
 hand, and of being arrested. During Ulhugh s illness 
 in his delirious state he often spoke of his mother, 
 consequently the doctor thought it best to send for Mrs. 
 Waldo, and held a consultation to that effect.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 63 
 
 While the doctors were waiting Ulhugh s mother at 
 Mr. Deely s, a bride and groom were asking permission 
 to remain over night at Mrs. Waldo s. The preacher 
 had been necessarily detained, which made it too late 
 for the 3 T oung couple to arrive at their destination that 
 night. The modest child-bride came into Mrs. Waldo s 
 room. She sat with her head down. The groom went 
 to look after his horse, and Mrs. Waldo and her daugh 
 ter for it was no other than sweet Maud were left 
 alone. As soon as the girl spoke, Mrs. Waldo knew it 
 was her child, but should she make herself known? 
 Had not the girl thought her dead for years? Should 
 she cloud her daughter s bridal day? No, she could 
 not. She would live but a few more days at best, so 
 why tear open the healed wound? She knew how to 
 suffer, but her darling daughter, let her be happy. 
 
 "My dear, are you not quite young to marry?" 
 
 "Yes, ma am, I am young, but it could not be helped. 
 Things could not be worse than they have been. I 
 once had a happy home, but it has been so long that I 
 have almost forgotten. (Maud had not asked where she 
 w^as, and the groom was so thankful for having even a 
 humble cottage for his bride to rest in that he was- too 
 happy to quiz any one.) "My dear father was killed in 
 the war, and my mother, I am told, signed away her 
 children on her dying bed, thinking they would be well 
 cared for. While she was dying we were carried off, 
 and I know not even the spot where she lies buried. 
 Oh, that I might kiss the sod and moisten her grave 
 with my tears." 
 
 The young girl brushed away the fast-gathering tears 
 from her eyes. "Thank God, mother is at rest, and 
 knows not of the hardships through which her children 
 are passing. My eldest brother Edward fled from the 
 cruelty of his uncle and went to sea. 1 have one sister
 
 Hi THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 in Europe and one brother in Philadelphia; but I do not 
 know the address of either. I had a dear little afflicted 
 brother Ernest who suffered, oh, so much. How ten 
 derly my dear mother must have watched him ; yet, 
 he too was torn from her, and though sick and frail he 
 was made to work as if hale and hardy. Last week he 
 died, and never shall I forget his last dying words: 
 Mother, dear mother, are you waiting for your poor 
 sick boy, to rest his tired little head on your sweet 
 breast just as I used to do. Mother, I am so tired, but 
 I soon shall rest. Mother he tried to say more, but 
 he was dead, yes, gone to be with mother and father. 
 Thank God there is rest for the weary. I also had a 
 little baby brother, but I guess he is dead too, for I 
 have never heard anything of him. Forgive me, kind 
 lady, that I should have told you these things, but 
 sometimes my mind gets burdened and it is all I can 
 do to restrain myself. Will you not kiss me to-night 
 and give me a mother s blessing? Oh! for a mother s 
 hand to be upon my head to-night and could I hear 
 once more her voice, which I am told was so sweet, 
 whispering My darling. May I not kneel at your 
 bedside and receive your benediction? Can you not 
 imagine you are my mother and I your child? I am 
 so sad to-night, when I should be so happy. 
 
 The sweet voice was hushed; the head was bowed, 
 and the poor sick woman placed her hands on the golden 
 locks of the child-bride. The mother s pathetic voice 
 grew tender: "Oh, Father, wilt thou not bless this 
 dear, sweet girl? May she never know what it is to 
 suffer as did her dear mother. May she be a blessing 
 to the world, bringing sunshine and happiness to all 
 about her; make her a true, loving wife; and above all, 
 dear Father, consecrate her to Thy service; take her as 
 Thy child, and may she love thee more and more until
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 65 
 
 father, mother, sisters and brothers shall meet with 
 Thee in one unbroken circle in Thy beautiful home 
 above; and Thine shall be the glory Amen." The 
 mother then imprinted a fervent kiss upon the child s 
 fair brow. 
 
 "Thank you, kind lady, I hear my husband calling 
 me good-night ; I will not disturb you in the morning, 
 as we leave at daybreak for my husband s home."
 
 66 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "All went merry as a marriage bell." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 AFTER rescuing Myrtle from a watery grave, imag 
 ine if you can the horrible feelings that came over Cecil 
 as she lay there upon the bank to all appearances dead. 
 As he bent to kiss her pale face, a sigh escaped her lips, 
 her eyes opened, and Cecil s heart bounded for joy. 
 Never before had he been so happy. 
 
 "Myrtle, darling, I am so glad you have recovered. 
 Do you know, little one, I could never have lived had 
 you been taken from me. Will you not love mo just a 
 little now that I have saved you? Are you not glad?" 
 
 "I thank you, brother Cecil, for your kindness, but 
 oh, that you had left me to remain where I was. My 
 life is so sad that I would rather die than live." 
 
 "Do not be troubled, little one. I am to marry next 
 month and I shall ask your mother to give you to me, 
 and we shall live in the same house, and you shall not 
 get any more whippings then. How would you like 
 that, my pet? I am rich, and would make you so 
 happy." 
 
 "To be rich would not make me happy, brother 
 Cecil." 
 
 "What then would bring you joy, if not wealth?" 
 
 "My mother s and father s love." 
 
 "Why would not my love make you happy, my little 
 one? Do you not know that I love you better than 
 anything in the world?" He took the child in his
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 67 
 
 arms as he spoke, and showered kisses upon her white 
 face. 
 
 "Oh, brother Cecil " the child was becoming 
 frightened, "don t, please don t. " 
 
 "Don t what, my little one? I only kissed you. 
 You said you wished for love, and you will always have 
 love from Cecil, my darling. 
 
 The Gth of May, 18 , was the date fixed for Cecil s 
 marriage, and guests from afar had been invited to 
 come and celebrate the occasion. Mrs. Dean thought it 
 unnecessary to have Myrtle seen, although her sister 
 (one year older) was to be dressed in the finest silk and 
 laces. Before the occasion Mrs. Dean said to Myrtle : 
 "Myrtle, if you dare let any of my guests see you, I 
 will whip you for a week. You have no dress to wear, 
 and I am glad of it. If I had my way about it you 
 should never have any. 
 
 "Yes, mother, I will mind you," said the poor little 
 forsaken child. 
 
 "Oh, I know you will. I would only be too glad if 
 you would not, so I could have an excuse to punish 
 you." The haughty woman looked at the poor little 
 thing with hatred and disgust; Myrtle only hung her 
 head and left the room. At the appointed time the 
 Dean mansion was beautifully decorated with palms 
 and ferns and the sweet perfume rising from the rose, 
 lily, and jessamine filled the air, and caused one to 
 think of a paradise. Japanese lanterns hung around 
 the broad veranda and in the walks ; a string band fur 
 nished music for the occasion, stopping only as the 
 minister performed the ceremony which made Cecil 
 Clair and Leita Lane man and wife. The gayest of the 
 gay were there, and truly everything went "as merry 
 as a marriage bell." The guests promenaded, laughed, 
 talked love, for who could resist Cupid as everything 
 bespoke love.
 
 68 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 But where was little Myrtle while every one was en 
 joying the festivities of the occasion? Far away from 
 the light of the lanterns, under the starlit sky. Where 
 none could see her, she had stolen to where she had her 
 self planted a little garden. Her rose bush was covered 
 with white blossoms for it was the bridal rose that 
 was in full bloom. "Mamma will not give me a dress, 
 but God is good to me and has given me these beautiful 
 flowers, and I shall make me a dress of roses and jessa 
 mines, and God and his angels will see it and think it 
 a pretty one; and that big oak with a hollow in it shall 
 be my home, and I will have pretty vines running all 
 over it and pretty flowers around it." Then the child 
 hung the vines about her shoulders and placed some 
 white roses in her hair making a striking contrast to 
 her dark tresses. "Well, I am fixed to go to my little 
 home. I am so tired, I want to lie down and rest. " 
 The little darling went over to her house, and was soon 
 wrapt in slumber. 
 
 " Here recline you, gentle maid, 
 Sweet in this embowering shade ; 
 Sweet the young, the modest tree, 
 Ruffled by the kissing breeze ; 
 Sweet the little founts that weep, 
 Lulling soft the maid to sleep. 
 
 Cecil Clair had introduced his fair bride to some of 
 his chums, so leaving them to entertain her he w r ent 
 out in the cool yard. He walked on, not caring where 
 he went, till presently he was standing in front of the 
 old tree in which Myrtle rested. As the child slept, 
 the moon shone directly on her fair calm face. One 
 hand was filled with jessamines and the other pressed a 
 pure white rose to her heart. As he gazed at the sleep 
 ing beauty, Cecil murmured: "Oh, that I had the 
 child s picture, oh, for a Raphael to
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 69 
 
 " Paint her pretty ringlets playing; 
 Silky locks, like tendrils straying; 
 And, if painting hath the skill 
 To make the spicy balm distill, 
 Let every little lock exhale 
 A sigh of perfume on the gale 
 "Where her tresses curly flow, 
 Sparkles o er the brow of snow. 
 Let her forehead beam the light, 
 Burnished as the ivory bright. 
 Let the eyebrows smoothly rise, 
 In jetty arches o er her eyes, 
 Each a crescent gently gliding, 
 Just commingling, just dividing." 
 
 " She seems like an angel; yet, it is my sweet 
 little Myrtle, and what have we here sweet jessamines 
 and white roses bridal roses too? What can the poor 
 little thing mean. Cecil could he tell why? then sat 
 down by the sleeping form; and what passes through 
 his mind we will let pass. At last he stooped and 
 kissed the child. She was startled and would have 
 screamed had she not then heard that low musical voice 
 so familiar to her. Myrtle, little one, do not be 
 alarmed; it is Cecil. Why are you here?" She only 
 hung her head, and Cecil continued: "Will you not 
 speak, my child? will you never allow me to be your 
 friend? But I know why. It is some of your mother s 
 plans. Poor woman, I never saw any one who could 
 think of as many mean things. But do not cry, my pet, 
 I am almost selfish enough to say I am glad, for nevei 
 have I seen such a sweet picture before. " As he spokes 
 the little head was drawn close to his bosom ; he stroked 
 her hair gently, and as he did so a thorn in the bridal 
 rose in her hair pricked his hand. Was it an ill omen? 
 
 Cecil had forgotten he had been married but a few 
 hours ago. "What brought this child across my path
 
 70 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 to-night? Strange, passing strange, she fascinates me; 
 yes, more than I like. I am glad she is a child be 
 cause because I am am married. " 
 
 For the first time Cecil thought of his wife, and then 
 
 , be hurriedl} r kissed the child. "Go into the house, little 
 
 one, you will catch cold out here. Be happy, I love 
 
 you." In another moment, Cecil was with his wife. 
 
 The child of the "Ides" was left alone and forsaken.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 71 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Never morning wore to evening, 
 But some heart did break." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 SOON after the brido had left Mrs. Waldo s room a 
 message was received from Mr. Deely. The doctors 
 had decided to send for Ulhuglrs mother, and Mr. 
 Deely carrying out their instructions, hastened his serv 
 ant with a note to Mrs. Waldo. "Your son is very 
 sick, but if you come immediately his life may yet be 
 saved. I send my carriage for you, and as the nights 
 are very pleasant, you had better come at once. Prove 
 your love for your child by making an effort to respond 
 at once." 
 
 Such a message would cause a mother to go though 
 dying. Although Mrs. Waldo had been confined to 
 her bed for months, she felt new life come to her when 
 she realized she could see her baby boy. 
 "What if it should kill me; it would only be a few 
 days sooner entering upon my eternal rest? Aunt 
 Finn, dress me immediately, for I am going to see my 
 baby boy, who, I am afraid, is dying. Oh! I would 
 willingly die could I see him once more." 
 
 "Lor, Misses, you ain t able to go. Please stay at 
 home." 
 
 "No, Aunt Finn, dress me. I must go, and you 
 must go with me, You have always been norr rpe, 
 
 <JQ without ym< I was w
 
 72 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 were not here this evening. I will tell you all another 
 time." 
 
 Aunt Finn had gotten a negro girl to do her work 
 around the house that day and had gone to town on 
 business for Mrs. Waldo ; consequently did not know of 
 the bride s arrival. "Aunt Finn, when you die God 
 will certainly give you a crown of glory. All of these 
 long years since my poor husband died you have nursed 
 and cared for me. I will only be here a short while 
 now, and as I might never have another opportunity to 
 thank you, I do so now. God has all of the good you 
 have done for me written in His book. He is generous 
 in his rewards. How thankful I am that there is a 
 God who gives justice to all. You have never forgot 
 ten me ; neither will God forget you, and may the bless 
 ings of a poor sick woman ever go with you." 
 
 "Don t speak of it, Misses. I only thank the good 
 Lord dat I is ben able to repay you a little for the good 
 you and Mosser has done me all of my life." By this 
 time Mrs. Waldo was dressed, and after pillows had 
 been put in the carriage to make it as comfortable as 
 possible, she walked with the assistance of Aunt Finn 
 to the carriage. As Aunt Finn and Mrs. Waldo started 
 off, Vinco Ulhugh s pet began to whine. This at 
 once aroused Aunt Finn s superstition. "For de Lord s 
 sake, dog, do stop dat. I se neber heard you do dat way 
 sepin trouble wus a-comin ." 
 
 Mrs. Waldo smiled sadly upon the old nurse. "Oh! 
 do not say that, Aunt Finn, but let us hope for the 
 best." After traveling some miles, Mrs. Waldo 
 became tired, and asked the driver to stop at the next 
 dwelling and let her get some water. The driver did 
 as requested, and Mrs. Waldo spoke to a boy who 
 was leaning on the gate: "My little boy ? will you not 
 bring me a dipper of water?"
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 73 
 
 "With pleasure, ma am." Running into the house, 
 he got a dipper of cool water, returned, took off his hat 
 politely and handed it to Mrs. Waldo. A large torch 
 was burning in the yard so as to attract the mosquitoes 
 and candle-flies and thus draw them from the house; 
 by the light of this the sick woman was enabled to see 
 plainly the face of the child. She looked at him search- 
 ingly, and when she had finished drinking she handed 
 him the dipper : 
 
 "I thank you, my child. Excuse me, but why are 
 you up so late to-night?" 
 
 "Well, ma am, we are just from Philadelphia; my 
 father is not well, and I am staying up to give him 
 medicine. We just came down on a little business; 
 mother did not come. So I am acting nurse." 
 
 "What is your name, my lad?" 
 
 "Raymond Felix, ma am, but please excuse me, I hear 
 father s bell." 
 
 "Certainly, my child; a widow s blessing and love 
 be with you." 
 
 He tipped his hat, and was gone the carriage rolled 
 on. 
 
 My boy ! My boy ! You will never see mother again. 
 God bless and keep you happy. Once I was happy 
 too, but it has been so long ago that I sometimes think 
 I must have been dreaming. But soon yes, very soon, 
 my troubles will cease. Oh, my God, help me to wait ; 
 be patient and submissive." She was so fatigued that 
 she felt she would be compelled to lie down for a few 
 moments, so the driver was told to stop at the next 
 house, where Mrs. Waldo was received graciously, and 
 no time was lost in making her as comfortable as possi 
 ble. In the room to which she was shown were two 
 beds, one being occupied by a beautiful little girl. 
 Though twas midnight the child was awake and very
 
 74 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 talkative. "Oh! I thought you were my dear mamma. 
 Mamma said she was going to see a dear friend of hers 
 Mrs. Waldo whom she thought had died many 
 years ago. But we heard over in Europe that she was 
 alive, and mamma would not be satisfied until father 
 brought her to America to see her. Then mamma said : 
 Edith, if it be true that Mrs. Waldo still lives, she 
 will love you and you will love her so much that you 
 will want to leave me and live with her, and it would 
 almost kill me to give you up; then she cried and 
 hugged and kissed me until I was almost smothered. 
 Father does not kiss me much, but I know he loves me 
 for he gives me everything I wish. Oh ! I have such 
 funny dreams about kissing, and I don t know what to 
 make of it. I often dream that I have another father 
 who loves to kiss me, and he is oh, so handsome ; and I 
 dream I have a poor beautiful sick mother, from whom 
 I was taken ; and also a poor little invalid brother ; and 
 other brothers and sisters. When I wake I find it all 
 a dream ; but I dream the same thing over and over, 
 and I can t understand it. I tell mother and she cries 
 so hard that I have to stop for fear it will make her 
 sick. Oh, dear, I wish mamma would come home so 
 I could go to sleep." 
 
 "Come and kiss me, my child; and if you do not 
 object, I will sing you to sleep." 
 
 "Oh, I would love to kiss you. You have such a 
 sweet face, but it looks so sad that I feel sorry for 
 you." 
 
 The child kissed Mrs. Waldo, and returned to her 
 bed. "Sing me a song you used to sing to your little 
 girl if you ever had one." 
 
 Mrs. Waldo, brushing the tears from her eyes, sang 
 softly a s.weet, plaintive lullaby---
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 75 
 
 " Birds in the night that softly call, 
 "Winds in the night that strangely sigh, 
 Come to me, help me one and all, 
 
 And murmur, murmur, murmur, murmur baby s lullaby 
 Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby. 
 While the hours run, 
 Fair may the day be, 
 When night is done, 
 Life may be sad for us that wake ; 
 Sleep little bird and dream not why, 
 Soon is the sleep, but God can break. 
 When Angels whisper, whisper, 
 Angels whisper lullaby, 
 
 Lullaby, lullaby, lul-la lul-la lulla lulla lullaby 
 Lullaby baby, still the hours run. 
 Fair may the day be, when the night is done. 
 Lullaby, baby, while the hours run, 
 Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby, lullaby." 
 
 It was the first lullaby Viola had sung since that last 
 night with her baby boy. When she had finished, 
 Edith opened wide her blue eyes. "Oh! isn t it 
 strange ! That is the very song I hear my mother sing 
 when I am dreaming. Oh, it is so sweet. Please sing 
 it over again, and I will go to sleep." 
 
 The mother repeated the lullaby, but ere she had 
 ended the first verse the child s dark lashes fell over her 
 deep blue eyes, and little Edith was fast asleep. 
 Mrs. Waldo sank beside the child s bed and prayed : 
 "Master, strength, strength it will soon be over." 
 She arose, kissed the child, then once again for her 
 father up in heaven who loved her so much. This was 
 his little pet and mischief-maker. The child smiled in 
 her sleep, and Mrs. Waldo turned to go. Oh, how 
 often do parents suffer and bear burdens while the chil 
 dren are light-hearted. But, Gracious Father, let the 
 little ou9i3 b happy wl^le they can, for soon-~$h ? tgg
 
 76 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 soon, will sorrow come to their young hearts. After 
 returning to the carriage, the poor sick woman pon 
 dered in her mind : "What does it all mean? Surely 
 there is some special providence connected with the 
 happenings of to-night." 
 
 The carriage rumbled on and on, but Mrs. Waldo s 
 thoughts were of the past. It was a beautiful night. 
 The moon was full and shone brightly. At a turn of 
 the road, her attention was drawn to an old church 
 yard. She glanced hurriedly from one tombstone to an 
 other until her eyes rested on a newly made grave. 
 "Oh! there is where my poor little afflicted child lies. 
 No one has told me, but I just feel it. Stop, stop, I 
 cannot pass my Ernest s grave. Yet he needed me 
 most in life. In death he needs me not. Driver go on 
 a piece, and then come back for me in a few minutes. 
 God alone must see my sorrow." 
 
 The poor woman went over to the newly made grave, 
 and as she approached a fresh white rose which had 
 just been placed there caught her eye. "Thank God 
 for one feeling heart. My God ! My God ! is this my 
 Gethsemane? Pity me, Father. Has my poor afflicted 
 Ernest suffered all these years without one kiss from 
 his mother? and now that I would press him to my 
 bosom this cold clay hides him from my embrace. Oh, 
 grave ! give me back my precious child, and let him 
 know once more a mother s love. Come, my child ! 
 Mother will have you even in death ; and the poor fren 
 zied woman began digging the cold clay with her 
 hands. So great was her grief that she seemed for a 
 moment to have lost her mind, and did not notice a tall 
 youth, who was standing by her side. She started to 
 her feet, but he spoke in a voice calculated to calm the 
 grief -stricken woman : 
 
 "My dear lady, you are mistaken, this is not your
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 77 
 
 child. His mother died many years ago and I am his 
 eldest brother. I had hoped to relieve his suffering, 
 but alas ! too late ! too late ! I found only his little 
 mound! I could not sleep to-night, so I came here 
 and placed this white rose on his grave. It is a very 
 small thing, but it is enough to show a brother s love. 
 I am heart-broken, and I go, I know not where. Since 
 the cruel war, in which my father, Ulhugh Waldo, fell 
 in battle, and my dear mother s death, I have felt that 
 life was not worth the living." 
 
 "Am I indeed speaking to my first born my Ed 
 ward? Oh, my God, it is indeed," and the poor mother 
 threw her arms tightly about her Edward s neck. "I 
 did not die, my child, as you thought; no, I have waited 
 all these years to see once more the faces of my 
 darling children. I wrote to you often, but you never 
 received my letters." And then Mrs. Waldo continued 
 to talk freely with her son, who wept bitterly as he 
 listened to his mother s conversation. 
 
 "Dear, dear mother, to think of you having been 
 alive all these long years and I knew it not. But 
 thank God I have found you at last. You shall once 
 more know what it is to have home, love, and comfort." 
 
 Edward drew his arms more tightly about his 
 mother s neck and kissed her tenderly, yet the poor 
 woman sighed. "It is too late my boy too late." 
 
 "What do you mean, dear mother? It will never be 
 too late for me to prove my love for you. My father s 
 blood is in my veins, and I would willingly lay down 
 my life for you." 
 
 "My son, a mother s love and blessing be ever upon 
 you. Forgive me for making myself known, yet I hope 
 it is all for the best. I go to-night to see your baby 
 brother, Ulhugh, whom I have reason to believe has 
 cruelly treated by his uncle, Now listen, my boy,
 
 78 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 as soon as your brother gets well, I want you to go for 
 him, and take him where his uncle will never see him 
 again. I know you will treat him kindly. Take this," 
 and she pulled from her finger a beautiful diamond 
 ring and handed it to him. "Your father placed it on 
 my hand on my betrothal day, and it has never been 
 removed for a moment. I go to my child, but I am 
 afraid he will be too sick to know me. When ho gets 
 well, I may be sleeping hero by the side of your little 
 brother. Give my baby boy this ring when he is 
 grown, and tell him to read a mother s love in each 
 sparkling jewel. Tell him I wrote to him each day 
 after he left me and knitted pretty socks, and sent them 
 to him. Tell him how I have longed to see him as 
 well as all my precious children. May God forgive 
 those who have wronged me and my children. Do not 
 forget Aunt Finn. Remember she helped me when all 
 else deserted me, and may God bless her abundantly. 
 Take courage, my boy, and remember I intrust your 
 baby brother to your care. Good-by, my noble Edward. 
 I hear the carriage coming ; I must go. Conceal your 
 self so that your uncle s driver will not see you. Give 
 me one fond embrace ere I go, my Edward;" and the 
 mother clasped her son to her bosom and murmured a 
 blessing, then stooped and kissed the little mound and 
 was gone. 
 
 After they had started on their journey, Mrs. Waldo 
 said to the old nurse: "Aunt Finn, I have seen all of 
 my children now, except my baby, and I shall soon see 
 him. God has been good to me, and has allowed me to 
 see them all before I die." 
 
 "Misses," and Aunt Finn sighed deeply, "you are 
 sick. It is too bad, You ain t seed none of your 
 chillun." 
 
 "Yes, Aunt Finn, I have, I am too sick tc tell you 
 all now, b\*t yoii will find out tlmt< what I say is
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 79 
 
 "Poor thing," thought Annt Finn, "Let her have 
 her own way she is so sick and don t know what she 
 Bays." 
 
 Mrs. Waldo felt as if she would never live to see her 
 baby boy, and she prayed that God would spare her. 
 So devoutly was she praying that she was oblivious of 
 all her surroundings. Later on, looking out of the win 
 dow, she saw that she would have only half a mile 
 more to travel before she would be with her boy. Her 
 heart beat loud and fast, and she pictured to herself her 
 darling boy running down the big road to meet her, 
 with his bright face, his beaming eyes, his pretty 
 auburn curls floating about his pure lovely face ; how 
 he would hug and kiss and squeeze her around the neck 
 as he cried for joy. Oh! my sweet mamma, have you 
 come at last? I am so glad to see my sweet, sweet mam 
 ma Mrs. Waldo s meditations were interrupted by the 
 carriage stopping ; on looking from the window the sick 
 woman saw she was in front of Mr. Deely s house. 
 "Aunt Finn, please help me to get out." A light was 
 burning dim on the first floor. As Mrs. Waldo went 
 up the steps, she was met by one of the doctors. "This 
 is the little boy s mother, I presume. I am glad, 
 madam, you have come ; we are trying to hope for the 
 best. Walk in this way, but please calm yourself, and 
 <> not give way to your feelings, for you will make 
 
 > little boy worse." 
 
 Thank you, doctor, I will not disturb my darling. 
 
 only ask to see my precious boy once more in life. 
 .Jany years have I studied endurance, doctor, fortitude 
 will not fail me now when it is most needed." 
 
 The doctor led the way to the sick chamber, followed 
 by Mrs. Waldo and Aunt Finn. The room was fur 
 nished with plain mahogany furniture. In one of the 
 large armchairs sat Mr. Deely fast asleep.
 
 80 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 Sitting around in groups were some neighbors, who 
 had come to sit up with the child, hut were busy gos 
 siping; and had you listened carefully you might have 
 caught their conversation even if it was spoken in a 
 whisper: "It will go hard with Deely if the child 
 should die. It is strange his mother should have given 
 him up. Catch me giving up my children for other 
 folks to beat and cuff around." 
 
 Mrs. Waldo came in about this time, heard the gos 
 siping women, yet so intent ws she on seeing her baby 
 boy she seemed not to observe them. The mother drew 
 near the bed, and by the light of the dimly burning 
 candle saw her precious child. His dear little face was 
 twice its natural size ; and as Mrs. Waldo gazed on the 
 sleeping form, her face twitched, and she asked herself 
 "surely is this my beautiful little boy who was carried 
 away from his mamma? and could you have seen that 
 poor mother s face, with the anguish of former years 
 and present grief painted upon it, the sight would have 
 caused you to grow sick at heart. But gradually the 
 cloud passed away and a radiance settled upon the 
 mother s sweet face, causing all in the room to arise to 
 their feet and stand still as if struck with awe. The 
 mother stooped and imprinted a kiss upon the bandaged 
 forehead of her little boy, and as she did so the little 
 fellow moved, and in his delirium sang sweetly one 
 line of the last song his mother had sung to him 
 "Mother Kissed Me in My Dreams." 
 
 Mrs. Waldo knelt beside the bed of her precious boy, 
 and took his dear little hand in hers. The mother then 
 bowed her head as if in prayer. The room was deathly 
 silent and naught could be heard save the ticking of 
 the old clock on the mantel. The candle flickered for a 
 moment, then went out Viola Waldo was dead.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 81 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Ah, Christ that it was possible, 
 For one short hour to see 
 The souls we love, that they might tell us 
 What and where they be." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 MRS. WALDO was buried beside the little grave she 
 had wept over so bitterly a few nights since. All of 
 her children, excepting her youngest boy, were present 
 at her funeral, but only one of them knew a mother 
 was being laid to rest. Edward, the eldest son a tall, 
 handsome youth, stood apart from the sad crowd. His 
 hat was pulled down over his face, as if to shade it 
 from the evening sun, but in reality he wished to con 
 ceal his features from those about him. "Merciful 
 Father, to think I might have been with my precious 
 mother for all these years, and yet did not know she 
 lived ! How she must have longed to see her children. 
 She has indeed died of grief. Yet if it be too late to 
 help my dear mother, I will carry out her dying request 
 to take care of little brother Ulhugh." 
 
 Shovel after shovel of damp clay fell with a sicken 
 ing thud upon the coffin of the dead woman. The 
 bridal couple that had spent the eight at Mrs. Waldo s 
 were now taking a drive for pleasure and pastime, but 
 they were prevented from going on their way by the 
 vehicles of the funeral procession. As the bride waited, 
 she saw an old negro standing near by. "Old man, 
 will you please tell me who it is that is dead?"
 
 82 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "I am sorry Missis, but I can t call do name. Sho 
 don t lib here. I hear .say she bin sick a long time, and 
 dat she wus a mighty good woman de Lord be praised, 
 her soul is gone to glory." 
 
 "Thank you, old man." 
 
 Then the young bride turned to her husband. Can t 
 we possibly get by; every one is staring at me this 
 bright dress and gay plumes are not very appropriate 
 for a funeral. And thus sweet Maud passed by her 
 mother s grave. Ah, facts, stern, sad facts, how often 
 in this life of ours they become stranger than idle fic 
 tion! 
 
 The grave having been filled with the damp earth, 
 was now shaped into a low mound, and a wooden slab 
 marked the head of the peaceful sleeper. 
 
 "Mamma," whispered Edith DeLong, "I feel so sorry 
 for this poor woman, may I put these flowers on her 
 grave?" 
 
 "Yes, my darling, it will more than please me, for 
 this sweet woman was the best friend I had when 1 was 
 a little girl at school." 
 
 "My boy," said Mr. Felix to Raj^mond, "take these 
 flowers and go and place them on the grave of one of 
 the best women that ever lived in this sorrowful world. 
 Strange and sad, Raymond Felix and Edith DeLong 
 bent and scattered flowers over the dark sod, but knew 
 not it was their mother s grave. Unconsciously the 
 two gazed at each other. It was only for a second 
 yet ever after would the handsome boy remember the 
 dark violet orbs of that sweet little girl. What made 
 Edith and Raymond sigh deeply when they both turned 
 to leave the newly made grave? "Oh, those beautiful 
 children," murmured several in the crowd, "I wonder 
 who they can he, they look like brother and sister." 
 The sun was dipping low in the west, and all who
 
 THE IDES OP MARCH. 83 
 
 attended the funeral had returned to their several 
 homes save one true soul. Old "Aunt Finn with the 
 tears streaming from her honest eyes stood by the 
 grave of her mistress. "Oh, Misses, is you gone 
 and lef me, but I would not call you back to dis 
 world of sin and trouble, but me do thank de Lord 
 dat you is gone to rest in de bosom of de Lord for 
 oh, Missis, you do needs rest, rest. I loves you Misses 
 and dats why I want to see you happy. ,It did most 
 kill me to see you suffer, but it is all ended now 
 oh, thank de Lord you is in glory. No more 
 pain can come to you, thank de Lord. You is in glory, 
 and I se gwine to strive to meet you dar, thank de Lord 
 you is in glory." The old woman repeated these words 
 with a monotonous moan, turning her head from side 
 to side to keep time with the melancholy dirge, and 
 ever and anon her checked homespun apron went to 
 her eyes to wipe away the big tears that coursed down 
 her furrowed face. 
 
 "My good old woman," and Edward Waldo drew 
 near to Aunt Finn, "I know who you are, mother told 
 me here a few nights ago how kind you had been to 
 her. I thank you for all you have done, and God will 
 abundantly bless you. Do you not know me, Aunt 
 Finn? I am Edward, your mistress eldest son." 
 
 "Is you Marse Edward?" and the old woman gazed 
 intently into the lad s face. "De Lord be praised, I 
 surely tink you is. 
 
 "Aunt Finn, listen to what I have to say," continued 
 Edward. "My poor mother is dead! At last she rests 
 in peace. Had I known she lived, I would gladly have 
 given my life for her happiness, but alas, she does not 
 need my aid now. If, however, I cannot work for 
 mother, I will help one whom she wished me to pro 
 tect. I speak of my baby brother, Ulhugh. To you,
 
 84 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 Aunt Finn, am I looking for help in gaining possession 
 of my little brother. The child knows you, and loves 
 you, and will do what you request of him. My 
 mother s last words were to take and protect my brother 
 from the man who so falsely broke his oath. 
 
 "I do see, Marse Edward, you shall hab dat child 
 soon as he is well enough. Over Misses grave, I] do 
 tell you I se gwine to do all I can for ebery child of 
 hers; bless her pure soul." 
 
 "I trust you, Aunt Finn. To-morrow meet me at 
 the big tree where the roads cross, and let me know 
 more of my little brother. 
 
 It was growing late, the stars were coming out one 
 by one, flecking the heavens with their beauteous glorj T . 
 Yet the old woman and lad lingered about the lonely 
 grave. "I must pray, Marse Edward. When I se 
 burdened, I does pray." And in another moment the 
 dear old soul sank on her knees beside her mistress 
 grave. Never in after years did Edward Waldo forget 
 Aunt Finn s prayer. It is impossible to repeat it here, 
 for who could paint those broken sobs that did accom 
 pany each word so full of pathos and sorrow. 
 
 "I can go now, Marse Edward, de Lord will sustain 
 me. I called upon Him in my distress, and He heard 
 me. " 
 
 "Yes, Aunt Finn, your prayer has helped me also. 
 The Lord that has ever been with you, the Lord that my 
 mother trusted, her son will also trust, and as the old 
 woman and youth talked thej~ walked slowly and sadly 
 away from that lonely grave.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 85 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "A Heaven on earth." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 IT is not necessary to speak of the difficulties that 
 seemed to beset Edward Waldo as he tried to gain 
 possession of his little brother Ulhugh. Through much 
 perseverance and with the help of faithful Aunt Finn, 
 Ulhugh was eventually enfolded in his big brother s 
 arms. Very tenderly did the older brother tell the 
 younger of dear mother s death. 
 
 "It is very sad, little brother, but as sweet mother 
 suffered so much on earth, let us be glad that she can 
 rest in heaven where there is no more pain nor sick 
 ness. I will be good and kind to you, little brother, 
 and never shall you want for anything while I live." 
 Edward bent and kissed the child, who had already 
 begun to love his big brother. What of that last sad 
 visit to mother s grave what feelings came to the 
 mind of the eldest and youngest child? But let it pass 
 let it pass ; life is so full of sadness will there never 
 be some gladness? must our hearts be ever crushed? 
 ah, let it pass let it pass. Soon the day will cast out 
 darkness let it pass, let it pass." 
 
 The two brothers went to the old home to see it once 
 more, and there they told their faithful old nurse good- 
 by. Edward divided the scanty contents of his purse 
 with Aunt Finn, but it was with great difficulty that 
 he succeeded in getting the old soul to accept a penny
 
 86 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 from his hands. * We are going to Florida, nurse and 
 just as soon as I make money enough to buy us a little 
 home, we shall come back and take you if you will go 
 with us. Would you not like to cook for us. Come 
 cheer up, nursey, what say you?" 
 
 The good old nurse brushed away the big tears as she 
 in a choking voice tried to answer her young master. 
 "Lar, Marse Edward, I would follow you and dat baby 
 dar to de end ob de world. Go, honey, and git settled, 
 and den come back for old black mammy, and de Lord 
 be wid yer, and take care ob yer ; and trust Him, my 
 chilun, for He is yer best friend. It was very hard 
 for the two brothers to leave the good old nurse, but 
 they must be turning their eyes toward the land of 
 flowers. 
 
 As soon as Edward arrived in Florida, ho rented a 
 small room which had been used for packing oranges. 
 "It is a poor home I bring you to, little brother, but it 
 is rich in love, and if you will be patient I will have a 
 big home for you some day." Edward now felt he had 
 something to live for, and his warm heart overflowed 
 with tender sympathy for his lonely brother. How 
 often he would catch the child in his strong arms, 
 throw him on his back and ride him all around the 
 room, at the same time whistling a merry tune to his 
 little charge. Ulhugh tried to prove his happiness to 
 his brother, for his joy was indeed great, yet the child 
 knew not how to be demonstrative; but could you have 
 seen the love in his earnest eyes, you would have read 
 the deep gratitude of the little fellow s soul. 
 
 "Why do you look so serious, little brother, are you 
 sorry I stole you from uncle?" 
 
 "Oh, no, dear brother, I was only thinking if I could 
 tell you in words how kind you are to me." 
 
 "Well, if that is all, little brother, do not try to tell
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 8? 
 
 me. But while we talk let us go and look at this lovely 
 orange grove. Now this grove is about twenty- 
 years old; the trees are seedlings and are much more 
 beautiful than those that are budded. Look, brother ! 
 oh, look ! as far as your eyes can see, turn them where 
 you will from one beauteous avenue to another, still 
 they behold surpassing loveliness; and the leaves of the 
 many trees so closely caress each other as they are 
 thrown lightly together by the gentle zephyr that you 
 mistake them for the children of one mother trunk. 
 The golden fruit hangs here, and there, and every 
 where, as if to say, eat little brother, and be happy; 
 and as the sunlight comes and steals kisses from the 
 oranges they seem to blush beneath his fervent touch 
 and would fain cover their burnished faces under sweet 
 scented blossoms and verdant leaves. See, little 
 brother, the gorgeous butterfly, and hear the low hum 
 of the busy bee, as she flies from flower to flow r er to sip 
 her favorite sweet. And here is a lake, and there is 
 one, and over yonder is another look where you will, 
 you find a crystal basin mirroring upon its surface the 
 cerulean sky. Facing us is the high bluff, and below 
 in the far distance is the blue lake, where children play 
 upon its shores in the white sand, and ever and anon 
 dip their little brown feet in the silvery waves, or 
 amuse themselves by building frog houses, catching 
 minnows, and making merry all the day long. And 
 now steals upon us the cooling zephyrs, wafting to our 
 senses the sweet perfume of orange blossoms. Little 
 brother, where are we? I feel we must be in Eden, for 
 I am so happy. Oh, that my pent-up soul might burst 
 forth into poetic song ! This must be the land of love, 
 for I could hate no one here; all that have done me 
 harm, I freely forgive." 
 
 Edward and Ulhugh had talked long; the evening
 
 88 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 shadows were deepening about them ; the blazing sim 
 seemed to have found a resting place at the other end 
 of the lake ; the gloaming deepens by far the sweetest 
 time of all the day, but it passes as all things else mubt 
 pass ; and the stars begin to peep one by one, until the 
 heaven is flecked with their radiant glory ; the silvery 
 moon rises slowly, until high . in the heavens its shim 
 mering light is thrown o er placid lake and sweet 
 orange-scented groves. Hush ! hark, little brother, I 
 hear a party of lads and lassies singing, keeping time 
 with the dipping oars. 
 
 " TIS ilOONLIGHT ON THE LAKE." 
 
 
 
 " Come away, come away, 
 Oh ! come where the silv ry waves break, 
 Oh ! come, oh ! come. 
 There s moonlight on the lake, 
 There s moonlight on the lake, 
 The sun has gone to rest, 
 The birds have call d their lov d ; 
 Have call d their lov d ones to rest." 
 
 "Oh, how rapturous the sound as by gentle winds 
 the sweet strains are wafted to us o er the rippling 
 waves. But, my little brother, it is time you were in 
 your cozy bed dreaming; let us away from this en 
 chanted spot." Soon the two brothers had gained their 
 sweet retreat. "Ulhugh, my boy, give me the sacred 
 Bible that mother loved. Her God shall be our God. 
 Let us read the twenty- third Psalm; now give me 
 your hand, little brother, while we kneel and give 
 thanks to the Lord for all His loving kindness and ten 
 der mercies. And now good-night, little brother, holy 
 angels guard thy bed." 
 
 As the moon beamed through the window of the 
 small room that night, little Ulhugh s head rested 
 peacefully on his big brother s arm. Oh, the love
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 89 
 
 that dwelleth in the heart of brothers is great indeed, 
 or it would not have been said, "There is one that 
 sticketh closer than a brother." 
 
 Oh, Florida, Florida, what of thee? Land of flow 
 ers ; land of poetry ; land of sweet dreams long may 
 you gladden the hearts of the many thousands who 
 come to thee for rest, sweet rest. Thy children come 
 to thee for labor ended. Tired brains, poring over 
 books, find forgetf ulness in thee. The sick and afflicted, 
 chilled and frozen by Northern climes find in thee a 
 sunny smile. Still modest thou art and retiring; yet 
 many there are who shall rise up and call thee blessed, 
 oh, thou Florida, peaceful land of loveliness ! 
 
 " If God hath made the world so fair, 
 
 Where sin and death abound, 
 How beautiful beyond compare, 
 Will paradise be found."
 
 90 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER XVil. 
 
 " Affliction s sons are brothers in distress 
 A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss." 
 
 Burns. 
 
 EDWARD was preparing the morning meal, for he 
 had learned to do everything necessary for the comfort 
 of his small household. The little room appeared clean 
 and bright. One glance was sufficient to take in its 
 meager furnishings a plain pine bed, several wooden 
 chairs, and a small stove that was used for both heat 
 ing and cooking. The floor had no carpet on it, yet it 
 was spotless. How it could be kept so clean used as a 
 cooking room was indeed a mystery. A small shelf 
 held the most sacred treasure in the room "Mother s 
 Bible." On the widow-sill was a box filled with beau 
 tiful bright geraniums, planted and tended by Ullmgh. 
 
 Where was the little lad this morning? He had gone 
 to fill a tin can with water brother Edward not being 
 able to buy a water bucket. Coming in a few minutes 
 later with his little face all aglow he exclaimed ex 
 citedly: "Oh, brother Edward, I have some news; guess 
 quick what it is." 
 
 "Well, little brother, as soon as I turn over these 
 nice brown batter-cakes, I will try to think what news 
 you have. It must be something very good, for you 
 look very happy. Well, well, our little village is not 
 much given to gossip, every person seems to go on with 
 his work harming no one, and wishing good to all ; let 
 me see what, what can it be?"
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 91 
 
 "Oh, brother Edward, you take too long to guess, I 
 cannot keep it any longer why it is this, some big, 
 rich man from another state, I believe his name is Cecil 
 Clair, has bought that beautiful mansion which you 
 know has been closed so long, and has hired servants 
 to clean it up. I hear they have been busy for days, 
 and I do not see why we did not find it out before and 
 what is more, the big, rich man is coming to-day with 
 his pretty young wife and little sister, and it is most 
 time for the train. Let us eat our breakfast in a hurry 
 and go to the train and see if they are coming sure 
 enough, for I want to get a peep at them." 
 
 "Why, little brother, are you excited? These people 
 are like every one else. Why do you wish to see them? 
 Surely not because they are rich; wealth is a great 
 tiling, it is true, but better far is a good name backed 
 by honesty, integrity, sobriety, and a spotless character. 
 Yes, these in life are better than money. But if my 
 little brother wishes to go to the train, he shall go, and 
 I believe you have gotten my curiosity aroused so that 
 I too wish to see these persons in whom you are taking 
 so much interest." 
 
 Edward took his little brother and held him high 
 above his head, as was customary when he wished to 
 show special demonstrations of love, but the latter 
 caught his big brother about the neck and was not 
 ashamed to almost smother him with kisses. Oh, joy, 
 ous day; oh, blissful day. The two brothers hastily 
 ate their scanty meal, and then put the little room in 
 order. "We shall have ample time, if we walk some 
 what briskly," and the brothers went on their way mer 
 rily chatting together, until they came to the station. 
 The train was a few minutes late, but this was well, 
 for the two were quite ready to rest a little after 
 their hurried walk. As they waited, they sat on an
 
 92 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 old goods box, Edward sitting close to his little brother 
 holding his hand. The train blew-shrilly in the dis 
 tance. Ulhugh unconsciously straightened himself and 
 passing his hand through his wavy locks smoothed 
 them over his fine brow. Edward noticed Ulhugh s 
 movements and smiled. In a moment the train stopped, 
 and as the poeple crowded forth, Ulhugh leaned for 
 ward that he might see better, for he felt he had not as 
 yet caught sight of the right persons. At this moment 
 Cecil stepped from the coach accompanied by his beau 
 tiful wife and little Myrtle. Cecil saw the two broth 
 ers as he hastily passed by he generally took in every 
 thing; Leita observed nothing, she only followed her 
 husband. Strange as it may appear, Myrtle looked up 
 just as she came in front of Edward and Ulhugh, and 
 the child seemed to stop unconsciously as she cast her 
 dark, sad eyes upon U.lhugh of course, it was only a 
 coincidence, and lasted not a second, but it was enough 
 to make Ulhugh catch hold of his brother as he drew a 
 deep breath. Yes 
 
 " Young eyes will meet young eyes, 
 Young hearts will greet young hearts." 
 
 A short time intervened, and all was quiet at the lit 
 tle way station. Only the brothers had remained; 
 neither had spoken for a long time, each seemed 
 wrapped in his own meditations. At last, Ullnigh 
 broke the silence "I say, brother, what do you think 
 of them?" 
 
 "Well, I do not like to say, little brother, but my 
 opinion of that man is that being exceedingly hand 
 some and immensely wealthy he has been greatly 
 petted and spoiled. He is impulsive, and might some 
 day do that which he would regret all the days of his life. 
 I believe he is good at heart, but if he ever siiouiu ];}
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 93 
 
 tempted to sin, it would be hard for him to resist. The 
 only thing that would save him would be some one of 
 a stronger character to show him the error of his way ; 
 and while his wife is sweet and beautiful, she is not the 
 woman to make a man such as he is happy. But } T ou 
 are a little fellow, I should not talk to you in this way, 
 and I did wrong to form my opinion before becoming 
 personally acquainted with the gentleman, because 
 hasty conclusions are a sin of which we are all more 
 or less guilty. 
 
 "Oh, brother Edward, do not, until you have told me 
 about the the little little girl. " 
 
 "W h e w! little brother, what do you want to 
 know about her? How do I know, child, I am no 
 fortune-teller. Yet it seems to me you could have 
 looked into her eyes and read all you wished to know." 
 
 I did look at them brother, and they frightened me. 
 
 "Frightened you? what was in that sweet face to 
 make you afraid?" 
 
 "Brother Edward, her eyes were so pretty; I do not 
 see how they could be natural. I was looking for them 
 to fall out and break, and what a pity that would be. I 
 do not see how such a thin, pale, little girl could have 
 such pretty eyes ; and she looked sad too, just like she 
 thought they were going to break." 
 
 Edward leaned back and laughed himself almost 
 sick. "My child, those beautiful eyes will never break, 
 but rather some boy s heart will break some day be 
 cause of their loveliness. 
 
 "I say, brother Edward, do you not wish that little 
 girl was our sister; we would make her happy; I won 
 der if she can laugh? Oh, I would give anything to 
 hear her talk; I do hope she is not dumb." 
 
 "Little brother, I am going to get right jealous," 
 and Edward smiled to himself to see how the little
 
 94 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 girl s one glance had so impressed the boy, who had 
 never been known before to be enthusiastic over any 
 person. 
 
 "Little brother, let us go home now, I want to finish 
 teaching you that piece on the violin ; and as you are 
 well and strong once more, books will take the place of 
 toys. How would you like the idea of going to school 
 mow, little brother? 
 
 "I would like to go, brother Edward ; I think I would 
 love to study." 
 
 Hence not many days from this time, Ulhugh went 
 regularly to school. He learned fast and was a gen 
 eral favorite with teacher and pupils. Edward worked 
 hard, for his one ambition was to educate his little 
 brother. Toil is sweet when seasoned with love, and 
 Edward looked forward with joy to the evenings when 
 his work was over and Ulhugh s lessons learned. The 
 two brothers would sit together and talk of father 
 whom Ulhugh had never seen and sweet mamma 
 gone home to rest. Then they would speak of the 
 future how the young revel in "castles in the air!" 
 Oh, let them enjoy this simple pastime. Who would 
 mar the happiness the young find in a \vorld so full of 
 sadness? 
 
 The two brothers had learned to sing and play to 
 gether. The love that each had for the other was the 
 talk of the village. On Sunday Ulhugh and Edward 
 could be seen going to church hand in hand, and sitting 
 together on the high benches as they listened with 
 reverence to the word of God, the tall handsome brother 
 ever taking tender care of the little Ulhugh. Myrtle 
 and many others watched the brothers with intense in 
 terest. She had often seen Ulhugh going to school; 
 met him face to face, but never had the children spoken. 
 That same pensive look was ever on Myrtle s face, and
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 95 
 
 Ulhugh seemed to think her a creature too pure aud 
 good for him to approach. Yet it never entered Myrtle s 
 head that any one should give her a thought. Poor child ! 
 she was anything but happy. In Cecil s many deeds 
 of kindness there seemed to lurk something which was 
 wholly incomprehensible to her childish mind. Should 
 she not love him very dearly ; had he not been the only 
 one in the wide, wide world that had ever given her a 
 kind word? Myrtle knew Cecil had a right to kiss her 
 it was only brother Cecil, and oh, sweet it was to 
 have some one love her. "Mother will not love me, so 
 I will just let brother Cecil love me. Ah, mothers, it 
 does not take much to steal your daughter s affection, 
 even when you are devoted to them. What must be 
 the consequence when you take no interest in their wel 
 fare, and withhold your love from them? When the 
 time came round for Cecil to return home, he had not 
 become acquainted with many persons, as he had never 
 cared to mingle with mankind, but he liked Florida 
 and w r ould come back year after year. He would al 
 ways bring Myrtle, as she made things more pleasant, 
 and then Leita must have company. The old mansion 
 was closed ; the doors locked, and its inmates departed 
 for home. Ulhugh was sorry for he no longer saw the 
 little sad-eyed girl, but was made glad when he heard 
 that she would return each winter with her brother and 
 sister. Oh, how he longed to make her happy. Al 
 ways when Ulhugh spoke to his brother of Myrtle, he 
 called her the little "sad-eyed girl, for he did not 
 know Myrtle s name, having never heard it called by 
 any one. Edward encouraged Ulhugh in speaking of 
 Mj-rtle, for he greatly fancied the little one. 
 
 "Little brother, do you not think when you get to be 
 a man you will then win a smile from her? ah, I know 
 you will."
 
 96 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 The two brothers grew into each other s affection until 
 their love had become boundless. Oh, the joy and 
 bliss of those peaceful days. 
 
 " Go not, happy day, yet a moment stay, 
 Brief has been thy measure. 
 Tarry but a moment in thy flight, 
 Ere the dusky night comes o er."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 97 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " O, call my brother back to me ! 
 I can not play alone ; 
 The summer comes with flower and bee, 
 Where is my brother gone ?" 
 
 Hemans. 
 
 THE days were slipping by, in the meanwhile Ed 
 ward was working hard that he might make money to 
 buy a home for his little brother, and also to have 
 something laid by in store for a rainy day ; then too, he 
 knew erelong more money would be needed to enable 
 Ulhugh to leave home for better school advantages. 
 How he could be separated from this little brother, he 
 did not know, but "love endureth all things, " and Ed 
 ward felt Ulhugh would be a great man some day, and 
 that God had placed the child in his hands and would 
 hold him accountable for his future destiny. So great 
 did Edward feel this responsibility that he scarcely 
 took time for rest. Day in and day out he worked 
 hard; how tired he would get, but who knew it? He 
 was ever the same loving, kind, cheerful brother. If 
 he had to lean his head against his hands for support, 
 when he heard Ulhugh coming he would look up and 
 greet him with a smile. He had felt badly for several 
 weeks so tired! so tired! no appetite, no energy, no 
 buoyancy. "It is only this spring weather," he would 
 say. "I have a fine constitution; I will be all right in 
 a few days; no time now for sickness. If I stop, on 
 what have we to live? I must go to my work!
 
 98 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 Littlo brother must not know I am not feeling well, 
 for it will only worry him, poor child, he suffered 
 enough before he ever came to me. God grant I may 
 be able to make him happy the remainder of his life." 
 
 When the day was done, Edward with difficult) 1 - 
 finished the evening prayer ; however, he told Ulhugh 
 nothing of his indisposition. That night he tossed and 
 tumbled upon his bed and no sleep came to his eyes. 
 Next morning, he tried to arise and go to his work, but 
 suddenly all became dark before him, and he fell back 
 exhausted upon his pillow. Ulhugh was greatly 
 alarmed. "My dear, dear brother, what is the mat 
 ter? Let me go for a doctor. 
 
 "No, no, little brother, I am just somewhat dizzy, I 
 will be all right if I lie down a few minutes." 
 
 All that day Edward grew worse, the fever had 
 taken a strong hold upon his system, still he hoped all 
 would be right in a few days. Oh, this hope within us 
 that will not die as long as breath lasts blessed solace, 
 blessed comfort, ever would it lead us on to happier 
 days, shielding us from the bitter and giving us only 
 the sweet but alas ! sunny Hope has a dusky sister 
 Despair, who waits to crush and destroy us. 
 
 Edward had now become delirious. Ulhugh rushed 
 for a doctor. On his way he thought he saw Myrtle, 
 although he had not heard of their arrival. The physi 
 cian was not long in coming, and when he arrived and 
 gazed upon the face of his patient, he became troubled 
 and slowly shook his head. Not long after this, when 
 the brothers had been left alone, Edward rallied for a 
 few minutes "Little brother, come near me, and let me 
 put my arms about you and kiss you." A second later 
 the sick brother went into a deep slumber, and as he 
 slept Ulhugh heard a gentle tap. Opening the door 
 cautiously, he saw little Myrtle slowly wending her
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 99 
 
 way through the long avenue of orange trees. On the 
 doorstep was a beautiful bouquet of flowers, to which 
 a card was attached 
 
 "For the sick young man. I am very sorry! 
 
 "MYRTLE DEAN." 
 
 When Edward awoke, his brother showed him the 
 lovely ilowers. The sick man smiled: "Little brother, 
 I knew she had a kind heart. Each day Myrtle con 
 tinued to bring fresh flowers and leave them on the 
 step of that lonely room ; and although she had never 
 spoken a word to either of the brothers, her heart was 
 filled with sympathy for Ulhugh in his distress. She 
 wished she was a boy so that she might go and help 
 nuise Edward. Ulhugh had never known how sick 
 his brother was. which made it doubly sad, when Ed 
 ward called him to his bedside one day, and in a low 
 voice whispered: "Brother, you did not know I was 
 very sick; still I am, my child, although I have just 
 realised the fact myself." 
 
 "Oh, brother Edward, brother Edward," sobbed 
 Ulhugh, "what can I do to make you well?" 
 
 "Come, little brother, do not weep; let me hold your 
 hand ; soon I will lose my grasp, but you will love me 
 still, I know you will. I have only a few short mo 
 ments to be with you, my boy. Oh, little brother, how 
 svveet life has been since I have had you to live for and 
 love. I was trying to get us a little home, and, also to 
 lay aside some money for your education but God 
 knows best ; I must go to a faraway land. Heaven is 
 indeed sweet, but must I leave my little brother? Must 
 I say good- by? Come let tt^> tell you quickly what I 
 have to say. Here is the Ting that dear mother left 
 you. Keep it until you pl^ce it upon the hand of a 
 pure and fail* virgin. Striv^ hard to educate yourself;
 
 100 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 it is the only thing that cannot be taken from you. 
 Above all things love the Lord with all your heart, 
 soul and mind. Be noted for your honesty, faithful 
 ness, integrity, and as for kindness and politeness, I 
 know you will never fail in these minor though import 
 ant characteristics. Father bequeathed to you a good 
 name ; cherish it, bind it as a precious jewel about thy 
 neck. Remember few sons ever possessed such a noble 
 father. I have a little money laid aside ; you know 
 where I keep it. Buy me a plain pine coffin. I wish 
 the money saved as much as possible for your educa 
 tion. Bury me in this sweet flower-land, and forget 
 not sometimes to come and sit by thy brother s lonel} 1 " 
 grave; and as the long gray moss trails o er my cold 
 dust, and the old trees drop their autumn leaves above 
 my head, remember still your brother Edward; child, 
 I loved you to the end. It is getting dark ; draw the 
 curtains aside. Who is it passing by? It is our little 
 flower girl. Ask her in, little brother, I would like to 
 see her." 
 
 With tears streaming down his cheeks, Ulhugh went 
 to the door just as Myrtle was placing some flowers on 
 the step. He paused a moment before he said : "Little 
 sad -eyes " (this w r as the only name he could then think 
 of) "my brother is dying, and wishes to see you. Will 
 you not come in?" 
 
 Myrtle felt it was no time now for mock propriety, so 
 straight to the bedside of the sufferer she went, her sad 
 eyes meeting those of the dying man. "Little girl, I 
 am going away. You do not know me, neither am I 
 acquainted with you, but something tells me as I lie 
 here dying, that you are kind and true. I leave my 
 little brother with no one to love him ; will you be a 
 friend to him?" 
 
 Myrtle thought : "Surely, does any one wish my
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 101 
 
 friendship?" and she timidly glanced at Ulhugh who 
 sj.it wringing his hands a picture of deepest despair. 
 "Will the little girl refuse my dying request?" Myrtle 
 hesitated no longer: 
 
 "In peace I would have you die, sir. If your brother 
 over craves my friendship, I will not withhold my 
 my-1 r" 
 
 "Thank you, thank you, little girl. Little brother, 
 are you near me? I had a beautiful, sweet sister once, 
 but I have not seen her since the cruel war little girl 
 will you forgive me, if I kiss your hand for her sake?" 
 
 Myrtle put her thin, white hand to the lips of the 
 dying man, who kissed it reverently. 
 
 "Little brother, it is getting cold. Oh, I know what 
 it means; I have only a short time now; will some one 
 sing to me sweet music let me hear." 
 
 Ulhugh looked beseechingly toward Myrtle, as if to 
 say, "Please sing, I cannot, my heart is broken." 
 Myrtle had never sung for any one but Cecil, but she 
 was determined to sing now, whatever the effort might 
 cost her. She silently asked help of God, and in a 
 voice tremulous with sad emotion yet sweetly angelic, 
 began singing 
 
 " Jesus lover of my soul, 
 Let me to thy bosom fly." 
 
 The dying man gasped "Sweet sweet little girl 
 Little brother I hear the angels singing 
 Heaven 
 
 There was a radiance upon Edward s face, as if 
 kissed by the sunlight of God. The right hand of the 
 dying man was placed in Myrtle s palm ; the left was 
 clasped tightly by the weeping little brother. When 
 Edward ceased to speak, Ulhugh cried pitiously: 
 "Brother, dear brother, oh, comeback to me I cannot
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 without you. Dear brother you were so good and 
 kind to me brother, brother, will you leave rno all 
 alone? Come back and tell me you love me still ; speak 
 only one word oh, you are gone gone gone!" 
 
 My i tie tenderly closed the eyes of Edward Waldo, 
 and then bent over his lifeless body and gently kissed 
 his cold, damp brow. Ulhugh though deeply grief 
 stricken noticed this kind act of the little girl, and 
 loved her for it. Myrtle, after folding Edward s hands 
 and placing in them some of the white buds she had 
 brought, felt she could do no more ; for could she com 
 fort the living God alone could do this. As the young 
 girl pondered, not knowing her duty under the circum 
 stances, Cecil came in and stood beside her. He had 
 heard Myrtle singing while passing by, and stopping to 
 listen had hastened into the room on hearing Ulhugh s 
 sobs. At one glance Cecil saw Edward s lifeless body, 
 the sorrowing brother, and the anxious, sj-mpatnetic 
 look upon Myrtle s sweet face. Going to the little girl 
 he touched her gentlj*: "Child, do you try to do good 
 everywhere? Yet this is no place for a little girl, 
 Myrtle. Go, leave all to me. I will see that everj r - 
 thing is done aright." 
 
 Myrtle knew well how kind-hearted Cecil was, and 
 felt assured that he would now be true to his word. 
 Going near to Ulhugh she softly whispered, "I am 
 very sorry for you, indeed I am, but look to Jesus, 
 He will help you. I will pray for you," and then 
 noiselessly turning away, left the room. When Myrtle 
 had gone. Cecil pondered long on the lovely character 
 of this little sister. 
 
 "An angel of mercy is that sweet child; what 
 brought her here? Where sickness, sorrow, and suffer 
 ing dwells, there abides my little Myrtle."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 103 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, 
 Is always the first to be touched by the thorn." 
 
 Moore. 
 
 " Cords that vibrate sweetest pleasure, 
 Thrill the deepest notes of woe." 
 
 Burns. 
 
 IT does not take loDg for little girls to become young 
 ladies. Edith DeLong had long since put away her 
 dolls, yet her life continued to be full of sunshine and 
 happiness. After finding Mrs. Waldo was dead, Mrs. 
 DeLong thought it unnecessary to tell Edith who her 
 true mother was. "I love the child with a mother s 
 devotion, and the child loves me why make her un 
 happy? I see no good in telling her I am not her 
 mother. 
 
 And thus the years passed on Edith ever believing 
 Mrs. DeLong her real mother. Money had been spent 
 lavishly in giving Edith every advantage in the finest 
 schools North, consequently she sang, played, painted, 
 recited and possessed all the many accomplishments 
 necessary for perfect ease in refined society. 
 
 Edith was now a sweet girl graduate, and as she was 
 very young she knew all the joyous merriment that 
 comes to a maiden in her "teens." Her musical laugh 
 ter could be heard floating through the house and she 
 was so full of fun that she teased her mother every day 
 yet in a lovely and respectful manner. Edith was rich, 
 beautiful, liigVly educated, and fascinating. Do you 
 wonder that the meu sought her companionship? Had
 
 104 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 she possessed only one of these qualities, she woulu 
 have been popular, but having the combined graces, 
 she became all the more a favorite in society. Each 
 day the mail carrier would bring a number of love let 
 ters, which she would read, then throw laughingly 
 aside as she tossed her pretty head. "I wonder if these 
 boys think I am goose enough to believe all their non 
 sense? I would not give a nickel for all their protesta 
 tions of love." To-day there was onlj one letter in 
 closed in a small, dainty envelope. Edith hastily broke 
 the seal, for she knew it was from Genevieve Greyon, 
 her old chum and schoolmate. As young girls love to 
 read their letters to some one else, Edith will give you 
 the contents of hers. 
 
 "WASHINGTON, D. C., May 1. 18. 
 
 "DARLING OLD EDITH: I have just time to say I 
 want you to come on the next train to see me. If you 
 dare say you can t, I will murder you. 
 
 "Mother says she is dying to see you she did not 
 use these words, she knew, of course, her daughter 
 would put it in emphatic language for her. I have a big 
 secret to tell you. There is a handsome fellow here 
 from Philadelphia who has been to see me several 
 times, but I am ashamed to say I can t catch him 
 I am not pretty enough for him. 
 
 "All the girls are breaking their necks over him, and 
 trying to take him from me, but if I can t have him, I 
 am determined that no one here shall take him away 
 from me. So, I have just made up my mind that this 
 over-fastidious young gentleman shall have his heart 
 drawn to a. focus ; and you, my fair lady, shall come at 
 once to handle the len^. I want him to know that there 
 is one girl in the world before whom he is compelled to 
 fall down and worship. I asked him one day why he 
 did not fall in love, and he answered that he was al 
 ready in love, that when he was a little boy he met a 
 beautiful girl with sunny hair aud deep blue eyes that 
 their eyes only met for one short moment, but he had
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 105 
 
 never forgotten that little girl. He says he feels he 
 will meet her again some day, and then she will have 
 to say yes, or no ; like any girl would be goose enough 
 to say no to him ! 
 
 " We talk just like we were sister and brother. I 
 try my best to make him flirt, but there is no flirt in 
 him he is too noble and grand. His dark eyes look 
 down on me when he thinks me flirting, as if he could 
 wither me. I have told him I know a girl just as 
 pretty as the one he described, and for aught I know, 
 you may be that same girl. Wouldn t it be funny; but, 
 if you are not, he will never think of any one else after 
 he has seen you. I will not tell you his name ; wait 
 and It is quite strange that he has a smile that al 
 ways reminds me of you. I suppose this is why I like 
 him so much, although he is himself divine. But I 
 will not tell you more of this Adonis come and see 
 for yourself. Don t wait to have anything made, you 
 have enough dresses now, and if you dress too fine I 
 will be ashamed of my old clothes. Won t we have a 
 picnic? 
 
 "I can t wait to hear from you. Mind, I will take 
 no denial you must come. Telegraph me you will 
 be here on the next train. I am just dying to see you. 
 Till I meet you, old, sweet love, love, love, and a mil 
 lion kisses. Your own, 
 
 "GEN. 
 
 "P. S. Tell your mother if she does not let you 
 come, my heart will just burst with grief and disap 
 pointment ! G. 
 
 Edith, carrying the letter to her mother and reading 
 it from beginning to end, said, "Mother, what must I 
 do?" 
 
 "What do you wish to do, my child, you know I am 
 always willing for you to have any innocent pleasure?" 
 
 Mrs. DeLong felt sure Edith would accept the invita 
 tion, for she had never known a girl in her life who 
 after graduating and spending a few weeks at home, 
 was not ready to go somewhere else. While at school,
 
 106 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 girls long and sigh for home, sweet home, then when 
 they get home they pine for something else. But tho 
 poor creatures have been caged so many years in school 
 that they become restless and wish to fly from place to 
 place as if to stretch their pent wings. 
 
 Mrs. DeLong had once been a girl, so was not sur 
 prised when Edith said, "Mamma, if |you have no ob 
 jection, I will telegraph Genevieve to expect me one 
 week from to-day. 
 
 "Do as you like, my child it is well, but of course 
 I will miss you." 
 
 "I will be back in a few short weeks mother." 
 
 "I hope you will bring your heart with you, my 
 child remember I cannot give you to another for a 
 long time yet ; if ever and then I have never met any 
 man whom I thought was the half worthy of my darl 
 ing." 
 
 Edith threw her arms lovingly about Mrs. DeLong 
 "Do not fear, dear mother, that I shall lose my heart; 
 look at the boys who have tried already to steal it away 
 and have not succeeded. I will come back to you as I 
 leave heart whole and fancy free. 
 
 "Well, my child, as you have fully decided to go, 
 I will take you downtown and purchase your clothes, 
 and give them at once to the dressmaker. You will 
 have no time to lose. 
 
 Consequently, Edith and her mother were exceedingly 
 busy, and by the end of the week two large Saratoga 
 trunks had been packed to almost bursting, and sent to 
 the depot. Edith shortly afterward followed her bag 
 gage, and bidding her father and mother an affection 
 ate, tearful adieu, the young girl was an hour later fly 
 ing over ground between Baltimore and Washington. 
 The maiden s heart beat quick as she thought of the 
 pleasure in store, for she had never seen Washington, 
 and now longed to gaze upon its many wonders.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 107 
 
 "I am impatient to see our nation s capitol, and and 
 I wonder who that young man can be of whom Gen 
 wrote? Oh, but he is just like all the young men I 
 know tiresome to death. What a nuisance to bo 
 obliged to sit and talk for hours to a stupid boy ; well, 
 well, I have to endure this and be bored to death, as is 
 the fate of all young ladies." 
 
 Edith looked out of the window awhile, and then to 
 vary the dreary monotony read herself to sleep, and 
 did not awake until she heard the loud cry of the con 
 ductor: "Washington, all out for Washington." Be 
 coming suddenly conscious that she had been lost in 
 slumber, Edith looked inquiringly about her, a second 
 later, she exclaimed with the impulse of a schoolgirl, 
 "There is dear old Gen ," and the two girls rushed 
 into each others arms and hugged and kissed with so 
 much demonstration that the old ladies smiled as it 
 made them think of their joyous youth. 
 
 Mrs. Greyon s elegant carriage awaited Edith, and 
 as the two girls rode over the clean wide streets, you 
 could never have repeated their conversation it was 
 buzz, buzz, neither maiden ever finishing a sentence, 
 being always interrupted by her enthusiastic chum. 
 Edith and Genevieve were supremely happy. It would 
 have been hard to tell which heart possessed more joy. 
 "Edith, here we are at home, and there is clear mam 
 mathe best mother in the world. Mother, look at 
 Edith. Is she not perfectly beautiful?" 
 
 But before Mrs. Greyon could make reply to her 
 daughter s remark Genevieve had caught Edith about 
 the waist and was leading her up the long stairway. 
 
 "Edith, you will have to be in a hurry I thought 
 you would have been here yesterday and by this time 
 entirely rested, so 1 made an engagement for your 
 especial benefit with tluit young man, You remember
 
 108 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 I wrote you about him. I had no way of informing 
 him that you did not arrive yesterday, hence am ex 
 pecting him certainly this evening. Just wash your 
 hands and somewhat straighten your hair, and we will 
 go down to supper; and then you must come and put 
 on your very finest. I want you to look prettier than 
 you ever did in all your life. I am simply dying to 
 see that boy worship you, for that is just what he is 
 going to do. Oh, how jealous all the girls will be 
 but here, you look all right. Come on down to supper. 
 We have no time to eat very much now, but after the 
 boys leave to-night, we will make up for lost time, and 
 w r e will eat and talk until after midnight. 
 
 After this conversation it is not surprising the two 
 girls should have excused themselves from the tea table 
 before Mr. and Mrs. Greyon half -finished their evening 
 meal. 
 
 "Now, Edith," quizzed Genevieve, "what are you 
 going to put on?" 
 
 "Wait and see, Miss Gen. Your curiosity is run 
 ning too high; yet I will tell you this much I am 
 going to put on the simplest dress I have." Gene 
 vieve left her friend for a few minutes and gathering 
 some flowers sent them by the servant for Edith to 
 wear ; the young hostess then went into the parlor to see 
 that everything was tastily arranged. She thought she 
 remained only a short time, hence was astonished on 
 returning to her room at finding her chum leisurely 
 reading one of Longfellow s poems having already 
 adorned herself for the evening. The light shone 
 softly on the golden hair, which was caught in a shin 
 ing coil just above the plump, dimpled neck, and in the 
 wavy tresses were twined single white hyacinths, thus 
 enhancing the loveliness of the sunny silken meshes. 
 The simple, girlish dress of pale blue mull fell in soft
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 109 
 
 folds about the faultless form. The fine lace at her 
 nock was too sheer to hide the swan-like neck. The 
 sleeves were short, which made Genevieve wish to kiss 
 the round pink chiseled arms. Edith was the very 
 image of her mother; not lovelier, for no one could 
 have been more beautiful than Mrs. Waldo as a young 
 maiden. 
 
 Genevieve stood entranced, looking upon the sweet 
 girlish figure before her ; and as she did so, the door 
 bell rang. Edith heard the sound, and at that moment 
 a dart seemed to have been suddenly thrust into her 
 heart. She hastily viewed herself in the large mirror 
 Will he think me pretty? and then she abruptly 
 turned away. "I am ashamed of myself; of course he 
 will not," 
 
 "Edith DeLong, I am satisfied you will conquer 
 him, for I never saw a more beautiful creature in all 
 my life. Come old sweet, I am impatient to see the 
 fun." 
 
 Edith could not understand why her heart beat so 
 loudly ; she had met many young men what was it 
 now that made her lose her usual composure of manner? 
 Before she had scarcely become aware of her surround 
 ings, Genevieve had led her into the parlor and was in 
 troducing her. "Miss DeLong, allow me to present 
 my friend, Mr. Felix." 
 
 Raymond Felix bowed low, and then raising his 
 head caught a glimpse of Edith s deep violet eyes. 
 The sweet, girlish face at once became suffused with 
 blushes, thus deepening the pink roses in her dimpled 
 cheeks. How angry she was with herself for showing 
 her emotion. Raymond s heart gave a sudden bound of 
 joy. "I have found her at last; she is the same little 
 ;ilrl of whom I have droamed so many years. I was a 
 Uoy then; I am a man now. I will never lose hor
 
 110 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 again." Edith studied Raymond s face was he hand 
 some? Yes, exceedingly; yet nobility and benignity 
 stamped the open countenance rather than good looks. 
 His bearing was easy and graceful, and he possessed 
 every element of the true gentleman; being almost 
 punctilious to those about him in his polish and ele 
 gance. Consequently, he won the affection of both old 
 and young, but especially did he steal sweet maiden s 
 hearts, hence it is no wonder the evening passed most 
 pleasantly for Edith and Genevieve while in such genial 
 companionship. The city clock tolled eleven. Ray 
 mond rose immediately, astonished at the lateness of 
 the hour. "Miss Genevieve 
 
 Too late I stayed forgive the crime, 
 
 Unheeded flew the hours ; 
 How noiseless falls the foot of time, 
 That only treads on flowers. "
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " He that wants money, means and content is 
 Without thee good friend." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 MANY were the weary days for Ulhugh after Ed 
 ward s death. Everywhere the sorrowing boy turned 
 reminded him of his absent brother. "Oh, if I could 
 only die, but no, I am left here Oh, Maker, for what? 
 But brother would not have me question God. I must 
 love God and the little sad-eyed girl said I must look 
 to Jesus and he would help me ; but what does this 
 little girl know of trouble? She is rich and has many 
 friends and relatives. And I do not suppose she ever 
 had a care or sorrow in her life even if she does look 
 sad." 
 
 Ulhugh often met Myrtle now, and had learned to 
 talk to her. The two friends for such they had be 
 come sat many times under the old oak tree near Ed 
 ward s grave conversing for hours at a time. One day 
 Ulhugh said: "I wish I had a friend who would lend 
 ; ne money for a few years, so that I might go to col- 
 lege, I could pay after finishing school work and with big 
 interest. I could make money when educated so much 
 better than now. An ignorant man has a hard time." 
 
 Myrtle s face brightened as she listened to Ulhugh. 
 "lam so glad to hear you speak as you do. I know 
 you will succeed in life. God always helps those who 
 try to help themselves. Have you ever asked any one 
 to lend you money?"
 
 112 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "No, it would be useless; who would lend a poor boy 
 money? I will never be humiliated by asking favors 
 of men only to be refused." 
 
 It was evident from Myrtle s face that she was think 
 ing of something very important. "I cannot help be 
 lieving, Ulhugh, that you will be educated." 
 
 "Nor I, for I am saving every dollar I make for this 
 purpose ; yet the money seems to come slowly, and the 
 days are flying swiftly in which I should be going to 
 school. I see your brother coming ; I must be going. 
 By the way, he seems to love you very much, he must 
 make it pleasant for you?" Ulhugh did not see the 
 flush that came over Myrtle s face; he was looking 
 toward his brother s grave. "Strange, sighed the lad, 
 "you have so many to love you while I had only one. 
 and he is gone. Good-by, I will see you again soon. 
 
 Oh, how little we know of the secret chambers in an 
 other s heart. Envy not the lot of thy fellow-being, for 
 you do not see the anguish pent up in his soul s dark 
 recesses, hid forever from your impenetrable view! 
 Cecil had drawn near to w r here Myrtle was sitting. 
 "Little one, I have searched everywhere for you; what 
 are you doing with this lad? I do not like you being 
 with him so much ; he is not socially your equal, and 
 if he was, some one else wishes your company can 
 you guess who?" 
 
 Myrtle- did not seem to hear Cecil s last remark, and 
 with childlike trust looked into Cecil s face: "Brother 
 Cecil, I believe you are mistaken in Ulhugh ; I think 
 he is of high birth but however lowly his parents may 
 have been, he is certainly a noble, true boy. I am in 
 deed sorry for him, for he is anxious for an education 
 and has no money. 
 
 "Well, little pet, are you going to take upon you the 
 sorrows of the world? if so, I have been grieving a long
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 113 
 
 time for a kiss from your sweet lips," and as Cecil spoke, 
 he drew Myrtle toward him, although ho saw it would 
 be with great reluctance that the innocent girl would 
 kiss him. "Ah, will she never love me?" he thought. 
 
 "I wish to ask a favor of you Cecil," never dream 
 ing of the nature of his sister s request, he replied : 
 
 "It shall be granted, my pet, to the half of my king 
 dom." 
 
 " Not so fast, brother Cecil, my request is large 
 listen: Ulhugh wishes to go to school, yet has not 
 sufficient means. Will you lend him money with in 
 terest until after he has finished college? He can then 
 easily make the money and return it to you." 
 
 "Why, my little pet, this is truly a great request; do 
 you realize that i+ would take a large sum of money? 
 I know nothing of this boy, and every cent I might 
 give him might be the same as throwing it away. 
 
 "Brother Cecil, Ulhugh will return the money. 
 You say you love me, now prove it by granting my 
 request." 
 
 "Ah, Myrtle, my sweet pet, if you doubt my love 
 after years of tenderness and kindness, will granting 
 this favor prove my deep affection? If so, I am glad 
 you put me to the test. My love, little one, is equal to 
 a greater crucible I would sacrifice anything for my 
 little sister, yet she seems unconscious of the fact," and 
 Cecil pressed Myrtle to his throbbing bosom and kissed 
 her ardently. Your wish is granted, my sweet little 
 pet." 
 
 "Oh, thank you, thank you, brother Cecil. I am 
 so glad you have decided to do such a good deed. God 
 will bless you for it." 
 
 "My child, God will not bless me in this, for what I 
 have done was only to prove my love for my pet." 
 Poor, innocent Myrtle thought it was a brother s love,
 
 114 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 and as such tried to show sisterly appreciation. Even 
 Cecil tried to imagine "If I had a sister, I would love 
 hor as I do this child." Ah, ever would Satan cheat 
 us clothing the blackest sin in the whitest robes. 
 
 "Come, Cecil, it is getting late, sister Leita will be 
 waiting for us. You know how she longs to have you 
 in her presence. I think she is the most devoted Avife 
 I ever saw. You should be the proudest man in the 
 world to possess such a jewel; but there is no use tell 
 ing you this fact. I suppose every man thinks his wife 
 the sweetest and best woman in the universe. 
 
 As the brother and sister walked home together. 
 Cecil had little to say Myrtle did most of the talking. 
 "Oh, I am so happy, brother Cecil; I hope it will not 
 be long ere I can prove to you my love and appreciation 
 of the favor shown me to-day." 
 
 "My pet, may the day never come in which you will 
 have to sacrifice any pleasure for me. To be in your 
 presence, little one, is all that I desire." 
 
 When Cecil and Myrtle had neared the front gate. 
 Leita saw them coining, and throwing a book aside 
 which she was reading, ran with haste to meet her hus 
 band. 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad you have come, my darling; I 
 have been very lonesome without you." and the sweet 
 wife tenderly kissed her husband. Cecil received the 
 caress as a natural right due him. Leita had long 
 since thought men had been given on earth to be loved, 
 and woman s duty was to shower upon her lord every 
 affection. As Myrtle went into the house, she did not 
 know when she had ever been so happy. To bestow a 
 kindness upon another was her greatest joy. 
 
 A few days later she took her accustomed stroll in 
 fbe woods, and sat near Edward s grave. As php 
 rested, she wished for Ulhugh that she might learn if he
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 115 
 
 had received any money from Cecil. Myrtle s wish was 
 soon gratified, for Ulhugh had see her leave home, and 
 had followed her. After the usual greeting and a few 
 remarks, Ulhugh said: "I am so happy I cannot keep 
 ^Y joy to myself. What do you think? Some one 
 has been kind enough to lend me money until I finish 
 school. I have puzzled my brain to know who it can 
 be. I have many kind (acquaintances, but did not 
 know I possessed a friend so generous." 
 
 Myrtle fearing she might betray herself, tried to 
 think of something to say. 
 
 "lam so glad for you; but what are you going to 
 do?" 
 
 "Why, I am going to school just as soon as I can 
 get ready. I have a check for several hundred dollars. 
 The bank that issued it wrote me a note telling me to 
 draw on them whenever I needed money. Although I 
 do not know who it is that is so kind to me, I feel that 
 if there is one person in the world taking so much in 
 terest in me, I should begin in earnest to make a man of 
 myself. May God help me never to shake the confi 
 dence of that person who has so fully trusted me." 
 
 "I am glad to hear you say this Ulhugh, and I do not 
 believe you ever will. I have noticed you often, and 
 have yet to see you do that which is wrong. 
 
 Thank you, nothing does me so much good as en 
 couragement. I must now say good-by; I have a little 
 business to attend to a few miles from here, and will 
 leave to-night. I may not return to this place for sev 
 eral months good-by. 
 
 Ulhugh took Myrtle s proffered hand and shook it 
 was that all? Myrtle s tender dark eyes sought Ul 
 hugh s honest face; neither spoke why should they? 
 Both were timid and shy ; he only a sturdy lad ; she 
 was yet a sweet lassie. As Ulhugh walked away, he
 
 116 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 wished to turn and see Myrtle s sad eyes once more ; 
 but no, this would not do. "I must not be so impolite 
 as to look back. 
 
 After Ulhugh s departure. Myrtle sat for some time 
 wrapped in deep meditation.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 117 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 " Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 As Myrtle grew older, Cecil was more marked in his 
 attention to her. Strange to say, no one, not even 
 Leita, noticed his misdemeanor. The wife s eyes were 
 closed as usual to everything evil in her husband. 
 Years had slipped by since Myrtle was a little cooing 
 baby. She was no longer a poor, puny child, but had 
 developed into a maiden of surpassing beauty. Who 
 ever thought a child so homely would become a beauti 
 ful woman? Yet Myrtle s features had always been 
 perfect, and her eyes even in babyhood were divine. 
 Her mother had dressed her, as a child, most unbecom 
 ingly, but now Myrtle was old enough to make her 
 own dresses, and to arrange her long, dark hair into 
 graceful coils about her queenly head. She seemed 
 transformed into another being her complexion was 
 an unusual whiteness beside her large, lustrous, glow 
 ing, dark eyes, her pretty ears resembled tiny pink sea 
 shells, and her small, even teeth were white and glisten 
 ing. There was something about the pretty mouth 
 that bespoke decision of character but where were 
 Myrtle s dimples. Idma Dean had no dimples they 
 would not have been in keeping with her calm queenly 
 face. When you see dimples, you naturally expect to 
 see fun, merriment, and laughing darlings. You 
 would never think of these things when you gazed
 
 118 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 upon Idma Dean. Could you have seen her as she 
 stood erect with faultless form, you would have whis 
 pered "What a beautiful queen she is, yet haughty." 
 
 Not so fast hear her gentle, tender voice, with its 
 musical accent; see the sweet smile that lights the 
 dreamy eyes and pensive face, and you will feel ashamed 
 of yourself for having given the young girl a single 
 wicked thought. Myrtle had no peace at home, for 
 Mrs. Dean made it her special duty to find fault with 
 her from morning till night. Myrtle thought she 
 could not endure her mother s harsh treatment, yet the 
 young girl was obliged to submit to her lot for she could 
 not leave home where could she have gone? She 
 thought of the high name her father and mother l>ore, 
 yet had her parents been more lowly born, her keen 
 sense of propriety would have kept her from telling her. 
 troubles abroad. Myrtle felt that she should have gone 
 to a boarding school long ere this, but Mrs. Dean, 
 knowing her desire to attend college, thwarted the 
 child s wishes. 
 
 Myrtle, however, was very fond of reading, and as 
 she never selected any but the best authors, the child 
 gained much knowledge notwithstanding she was 
 debarred from school. Yet woe if Mrs. Dean ever saw 
 her with a book. It meant some new drudgery added 
 to the girl s life. Myrtle performed the duties in her 
 mother s house as one in a treadmill. To all of Mrs. 
 Dean s cruel words she never made reply, nor showed 
 in any way her deeply wounded heart ; only sometimes 
 a dark flush would suffuse her sad face. When her 
 mother began scolding her: "Myrtle, I have no more 
 use for you than I have for the waifs on the streets." 
 
 Myrtle would think: "She is my mother; let her say 
 to me what she will; do to me what she will; I will 
 stand by the Bible, which teaches me to honor my 
 parents."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 119 
 
 The time bad been when Myrtle felt she could lay 
 her tired head on Cecil s loving breast and weep away 
 her many sorrows, but she was too large now, and there 
 was another and greater reason that made Myrtle avoid 
 Cecil, an incomprehensible fear came over her when 
 ever she was in his presence. "Call his love a brother s 
 if you will, yet I would rather endure a mother s harshest 
 abuses than to accept his words of affection," she 
 thought. * I wonder if sorrow has taught me to be 
 suspicious and cold? And yet what avails my fears? 
 What can I do? He lives in the same house with me; 
 I see him w r herever I go if for a walk, he is sure to 
 meet me before I return home; true, he does nothing I 
 can openly question, but at times he acts so strangely. 
 
 Often he will begin and say Oh, Myrtle, my 
 
 and then bite his lips his face becoming suddenly 
 flushed, then he will jump up and leave me without 
 another word, not even looking back. Is every one 
 bind? Is his wife blind? Is mother blind? Is father 
 blind? Who sees my distress? Where shall I turn for 
 comfort? Yet if I had some one to whom I might pour 
 out my woes what would I have to tell? nothing 
 nothing definite ! Oh, my poor heart, am I becoming 
 crazed?" 
 
 This was the state of affairs when the time came for 
 Cecil, Leita, and Myrtle to take their usual trip to 
 Florida. The day had been when Myrtle s heart leaped 
 for joy at the thought of traveling anywhere, every 
 where, rather than receive her mother s abuse, but this 
 time she shrank from going with Cecil. "I will beg 
 mother to let me remain at home. Poor child, she did 
 not realize this was the worst thing she could do. 
 Summoning all her courage, she went to Mrs. Dean 
 "Mother, please let me stay at home, I think perhaps it 
 is best that I should ; and mother, if you knew my feel-
 
 120 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 ings, you would gladly let mo remain here. I do not 
 care how much work you make me do, if I can but stay 
 at home. Mother, I beg and beseech you to grant my 
 request. I cannot go; oh mother, I must not go." 
 
 It was not so much the words that Myrtle used, but 
 her imploring accent that should have touched the 
 hardest heart ; yet strange, the mother s heart was not 
 touched. Instead an exultant sneer came into her face 
 as she looked down upon Myrtle: "You think it best 
 you should remain at home? As if your opinion would 
 weigh one second with mo. Oh, how delighted I am 
 to know you do not wish to go. I will now take the 
 greatest pleasure in sending you. I have thought all 
 these years you wanted to go. I then would have kept 
 you at home, but I sent you merely to gratify Cecil 
 and Leita s pleasure. If you were to stand and beg me 
 until your head was as white as cotton, I would make 
 you go just to see you miserable leave me, Idma 
 Idma yes, that is your hateful name go from my 
 sight." 
 
 Mrs. Dean never permitted herself to gaze long upon 
 Myrtle, for the girl s calm dignity seemed to unnerve 
 her. Myrtle turned away with a deep sigh: "Oh, 
 what must I do? shall I go to my father?" 
 
 When Mr. Dean returned home that day, Myrtle 
 went to him and asked if she might stay at home. 
 "You will have to consult your mother, my daughter 
 whatever she says will be perfectly agreeable to me." 
 
 "I have been to her, father, and she said I must go." 
 
 "Well, her word should have been sufficient, my 
 child ; I am surprised and grieved that you should have 
 come to me once for all, my daughter, never ask of me 
 anything your mother Las refused you. She is always 
 with you, and knows best what is for 3 7 our good. Re- 
 member, my child, what I now tell you."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 121 
 
 Myitle turned away sadly: "My doom is sealed, I 
 am compelled to go to Florida. Mother, father, do 
 you not see I am in trouble where shall I go for sym 
 pathy and love? My Maker, I call upon Thee have 
 mercy upon thy heart-sick child." 
 
 A few weeks later Myrtle was in Florida. She did 
 all she could to keep away from Cecil, yet it was of 
 little avail, for he seemed to divine her meaning and 
 sought her companionship more than ever, trying to win 
 again her trust and confidence. Once he had cried out 
 in despair: "Myrtle, my pet, what have I done to make 
 you shun me as you do? You cannot deny this state 
 ment, for you are too conscientious to tell me an un 
 truth." 
 
 Brother Cecil, if I have not been a devoted sister, 
 forgive me. I hope never to be ungrateful to you for 
 all your goodness to me. I know you are the only 
 being on earth who ever gave me a kind word, yet 
 brother " 
 
 The words Myrtle tried to utter died upon her lips as 
 Leita drew near. 
 
 "Cecil, I know of a lady who lives about two miles 
 from here who is very ill; her husband has just sent a 
 message to me, and begs that I come and help nurse his 
 wife. Of course, I cannot refuse the poor man. 
 Myrtle, I will leave the keys with you, as I do not 
 know how long I may be absent. Good-by, husband," 
 Cecil kissed his loving, devoted wife, and helped her 
 into the buggy that awaited her at the front gate. Was 
 the husband glad the wife was gone? Myrtle s heart 
 beat quick and fast, and she trembled with fear on see 
 ing Leita driven from home. 
 
 It was some time after tea; the servants had finished 
 their evening work about the house, and had hastened 
 to their respective homes, which were some distance 
 from the village of E .
 
 122 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 One by one the passers had wended their homeward 
 way, it seemed as if all the inmates of the world had 
 suddenly ceased to exist, and a stillness that might al 
 most be felt rested on the old mansion. 
 
 Myrtle walked into the flower garden ; took her seat 
 under an old rustic bower thickly overgrown with 
 honeysuckles and evening-glories. In a half-dreamy 
 mood the young girl caught some of the pure blossoms, 
 and twirling them in her pretty hands, twined them 
 with seeming unconsciousness in her wavy dark hair, 
 and then in the same thoughtless fashion threw care 
 lessly about her bare, rose-tinted shoulders a long grace 
 ful vine, thus trimming the white simple dress she 
 wore in sylvan beauty. The moon peeped here and 
 there through the leafy bower, and casting her silver 
 rays upon the young girl made her appear even more 
 wondrously beautiful. Was ever " Cleopatra, star- 
 eyed Egyptian, glorious Sorceress of the Nile" more 
 bewitching in her loveliness? With slender, tapering 
 fingers, Myrtle put the vines aside in her rustic bower, 
 making a leafy window through which she might look 
 far-away to the star-flecked heavens ; gazing with eyes 
 that seemed not of earth, for they were glowing with 
 dreamy, angelic luster. Verily she looked a vestal 
 virgin in her maidenly purity. 
 
 " Chaste as the icicle, 
 
 That s curdled by the the frost from purest snow, 
 And hangs on Diana s temple." 
 
 "Ah," the young girl murmured, "I had forgotten 
 to day is my birthday yes, it is the fated Ides of 
 March. " Idma drew a deep sigh. 
 
 Cecil stood unobserved by Myrtle at the entrance of 
 the bower. He knew the sweet girl s fair brow would
 
 THE IDEB OF MARCH. 123 
 
 be closed if he drew near, yet felt he must speak to 
 her: "Myrtle, my pet " 
 
 The young girl was startled. "Cecil, Cecil, how 
 you frightened me!" 
 
 "I frighten you, little one? I who have loved you all 
 these years ; I who would live for you ; I who would 
 die for you? Yes, Myrtle, my darling, you are dearer 
 to me than all the world beside. 
 
 "Hush, Cecil! hush! you know not what you are 
 saying!" 
 
 Heeding not the girl s words, Cecil fell on his knees 
 at Myrtle s feet, and grasping her tiny white hands, 
 showered upon them ardent kisses. Myrtle shuddered 
 and trembled as if she had been a frightened fawn pur 
 sued by wicked hunters. "Ah, you fear me; child I 
 will not harm you. Love me, Myrtle, and let me love 
 you. There is no sin in love my darling, you are too 
 prudent, too prudish; pity me Myrtle. For years I 
 have worshipped you. When your own mother de 
 spised you, I bsfriended and shielded you. I have 
 tried so hard to subdue my love, yet Myrtle, your love 
 liness is more than I can resist. To possess you fair 
 one, I fain would lose my soul. Oh, Myrtle, my darl 
 ing, you do not know the days, months, and even years I 
 have suffered in trying to keep this love within my own 
 breast ; many times have I walked the floor at night 
 and almost committed suicide rather than to tell you of 
 my love but you heeded not my sufferings. You 
 shun me, for when have you bestowed upon me the 
 sweet and loving caresses you were wont to shower 
 upon me in your childhood days? Yet, darling I will 
 forgive all your past cruelties, if you will now, my pet, 
 love me. Oh, will you not, my sweet one?" and Cecil 
 pressed Myrtle s white hands to his throbbing bosom, 
 as he exclaimed wildly: "Myrtle, my love, my all,
 
 124 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 speak to me. Why do you turn from me do not 
 scorn me. Know you not I am the only one on earth 
 who loves you?" 
 
 "Ah, Cecil, Cecil, would to God I had died before 
 this day this fated Ides had ever dawned upon me. 
 Oh, man you are crazed, and know not what you say. 
 An evil spirit possesses you. For shame, Cecil, you 
 have forgotten J T OU are married to the best woman yi 
 the world, who is too pure herself to even suspect her 
 husband of loving another. Cecil, I was a child when 
 I came into this bower, but my distress has made mo a 
 woman. You say for years you have loved me while 
 all others despised me, and now what do you ask in 
 return for your love? A love, Cecil Clair, that before I 
 would listen to it I would fain sleep the sleep of death 
 and hide myself beneath the cold dark waves in yonder 
 lake." 
 
 Myrtle s calm sweet voice had almost subdued the 
 demon in Cecil s breast and he was about to enfold his 
 sister in his brotherly arms and ask her forgiveness when 
 the young girl mistook his meaning, and with lifted 
 arms which seemed moulded into perfect beauty, waved 
 him away. As she did so her hair by some chance be 
 came uncoiled and flowed about her white chiselled 
 shoulders, in dark, abundant wavelets kissing the 
 evening glories at her feet. In her loveliness she 
 looked fairer than the fairest young Amazon, as with 
 queenly dignity and eyes flashing with wounded rage, 
 she seemed to scorch the poor wretch who lay at her 
 feet. In accent so cold and icy that it seemed it would 
 have chilled her own poor soul Idma cried : 
 
 "Back. Cecil, back; touch me not. Is this your 
 boasted love; your brother s love? Did you try to 
 charm me all these years, Cecil, yet for what? Lo : 
 your aswer be before the judgment bar of God. As an
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 126 
 
 child you petted me; I trusted you and loved you, but 
 oh, my poor heart, how have you requited the love of a 
 true sister? Cecil Clair, begone from my sight. The 
 love I bore you is turned to direst hatred. There is a 
 wide, deep gulf between us that shall separate us 
 through all eternity. Go, I despise you, I loath you." 
 
 "Woman, trample not the worm under foot, lest it 
 turn and sting thee! 
 
 "You say you hate me, but I shall make you love 
 me, sweet one," and Cecil drew near as if to clasp 
 Myrtle to his throbbing breast. 
 
 The young girl was too quick, for with supernatural 
 fleetness she flew by Cecil, leaving him stamping his 
 foot upon the ground and grinding his teeth with furi 
 ous rage. Myrtle ran to her room and tried to lock her 
 door, but remembered the key was broken. What shall 
 I do? Oh, if Leita were here. But must I tell a wife 
 of her husband s perfidy and forever make her misera- 
 Ibe? oSTo, I could not blight her happiness. What is 
 left me? Love him? No! Oh, my Father, never, 
 never, a thousand times, never!" and the poor girl 
 walked the floor and tore her hair in wild despair. 
 
 She tried to pray, but knew not how to frame her 
 sentences; she went to the window and there saw near 
 by the broad, placid lake. As she stood with beating 
 heart, looking to the faraway sky there gradually 
 came over her beautiful face a calm, peaceful smile. 
 A moment later she went to her writing desk, and tak 
 ing up pen wrote a hasty note. Then she w r ent to her 
 bureau drawer and drew forth a spotless white robe, 
 with neck and sleeves of finest lace. This she hurriedly 
 put on, after which she combed her soft tangled tresses. 
 
 "Oh, here are \vhito himy," and tlie young girl took 
 the fresh roses and entwined them in her long silken 
 hair and then pinning some flowers on her bosom, rm;r-
 
 126 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 mured : There, this will do, I will meet my Saviour 
 adorned in spotless white but ah, me the soul is what 
 he wants pure, and she knelt reverently by the side of 
 her bed. Not one word did she speak ; only the fair 
 lips moved; the sweet face was turned heavenward; 
 the small tapering fingers were clasped over her white 
 bosom ; and the lamplight with its deep orange shade 
 cast a mellow glow about the fair angelic form. There 
 was at that moment only a faint zephyr, yet it was 
 sufficient to turn the shutters of the blind next to the 
 front garden. At the same time some one passed by 
 the window and stopped. Myrtle knew it not, for she 
 seemed to have forgotten the sad past as she held sweet 
 communion with her God. When she rose, she took her 
 Bible and kissed it. As she did so her form was reflect 
 ed in the long beveled mirror, and the young girl smiled 
 at sight of her pale face which seemed more akin to 
 tears than gladness. She then passed from her room, 
 leaving her door ajar. 
 
 But where was Cecil. After Myrtle left him, he was 
 for a time a raging lion, not knowing what he did, 
 and caring less for what he might do. He looked here, 
 there, and everywhere for Myrtle, but found her not. 
 
 "Where could she have gone? but I will find her. 
 How dare she scorn me? Ah, it shall not be!" 
 
 He searched the yard over many times, and had al 
 most despaired of finding his treasure, when he happened 
 at this moment to hear the shutters to Myrtle s blinds 
 as they turned, when with one quick glance Cecil saw 
 Myrtle s kneeling form which seemed in its maidenly 
 loveliness more than an angel s. 
 
 It was enough the demon suddenly left the crazed 
 man when he saw Myrtle praying. "My God! My 
 God ! forgive me. I shall go at once and kneel by her 
 side but no, I would frighten her. And she could not
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 12? 
 
 believe I had so soon repented. I will remain out here, 
 and maybe she will soon sleep and forget her troubles. 
 Cecil walked about the garden for some time, and 
 wondered what it was best for him to do. 
 
 "I said she would sleep no, no; Myrtle will not 
 sleep to-night I know too well her sensitive nature. 
 Cursed dog that I am, what shall I do? what course 
 shall I pursue? Nothing remains for me to do but go 
 and implore her forgiveness. I will delay no longer." 
 With light, cautious steps Cecil went to Myrtle s door 
 and knocked gently, receiving no answer he knocked 
 again still no answer. 
 
 "Myrtle, forgive me, child, do not fear to answer me." 
 Awaiting a few seconds, he called again "Myrtle, 
 Myrtle." Can it be possible she is not in her room? 
 "Myrtle, please answer me; I am coming in if you do 
 not. I am your brother again, child ; your brother for 
 ever, sister," and Cecil pushed open the door. One 
 glance was sufficient to show him Myrtle was gone. 
 Cecil was about to leave the room when his eyes acci 
 dentally fell upon a note lying on the table addressed to 
 him. With trembling hands he broke the seal : 
 
 "DEAR BROTHER CECIL: You saved my life once, 
 I save yours now ; may you yet live to be noble and 
 true. I lay down my life gladly that others may abide 
 in happiness and peace. Good-by where will your 
 little sister be when you read this? God be with you, 
 and bless and forgive you, as I do. 
 
 "MYRTLE." 
 
 As Cecil read the note, each word seemed a coal of 
 fire burning his innermost soul. Rushing from the 
 room he cried : Fool, villain that I am. What have 
 I done? Oh, that some one would shoot me in my 
 tracks. Myrtle, Myrtle," and the echo resounded her
 
 128 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 name, as if to mock and taunt him: "Where shall I 
 find her? Ah, to the lake she must have gone, for did 
 she not say something about sleeping beneath its blue 
 waves rather than love me? Thither I will fly to her 
 rescue." 
 
 Myrtle, after leaving her room, had walked down the 
 back steps, and wended her way to the water s edge. 
 "I must get heavy weights and tie them to my body so 
 that I shall never rise, for I do not wish any one to gaze 
 upon my face in death. I will take a boat and row to 
 the deepest place and then the plunge of death death, 
 did I say? My Father, what am I about to do? Is it 
 wrong to die but as thou shouldst call us? I care not 
 to live; life is a weary burden. My Creator, my 
 Maker, teach me my duty. Death is nothing, it is the 
 hereafter. Can I, oh God, stand in thy sight blame 
 less if I die by my own hands?" 
 
 Myrtle looked beyond the wide, deep lake and then 
 gazed upward at the cold, gray sky. A cloud seemed 
 to hide the pale moon from the young girl s eyes, as 
 she cried: "Oh, mother, you were right, Idma, 
 Idma , is the name I should bear, for my life is indeed 
 one dark night; surely I am the child of the fated Ides! 
 My Father, hide not thy face from me lest I die what! 
 I cannot breathe, I am suffocating, and why this sudden 
 horrible pain at my heart?" She tore the dainty robe 
 from her, thus disclosing her white chiselled shoulders. 
 The flowers she wore fell at her feet, and were bathed in 
 the cold limpid lake. The night winds caught her 
 long dark tresses, and blew them about her faultless 
 form in wild dishevelment. Her tiny slippers were 
 filled with the sand and pebbles of the lake, but she 
 felt it not. On, on, she M T ent, muttering to herself: 
 "Father, pity, pity, oh pity." Her bands were blue 
 from being clinched so tightly, and sinking down upon
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 129 
 
 the white sand she prayed "My God, my Maker, 
 show me what to do? My Redeemer, my Saviour- 
 hush ! hark ! I hear a sound. No, it is but the wild 
 beating of rny throbbing heart. 
 
 "Myrtle, Myrtle!" 
 
 "My Maker, it is he! " The young girl tried to 
 scream, but could not utter a sound ; tried to move, but 
 was rooted to the ground. 
 
 Suddenly everything became dark as night, and a 
 fearful dizziness came over her. "Myrtle, Myrtle, my 
 sweet one," and then ardent kisses were showered upon 
 her cold, white forehead. With a low moan Myrtle 
 reeled and felt herself clasped in Cecil Glair s strong 
 arms. The poor girl struggled, yet it was of little 
 avail; her head fell back and she knew no more. A 
 deathlike swoon had come upon the ill-fated girl, and 
 Idma, the child of the Ides lay cold and unconscious 
 in Cecil s embrace!
 
 130 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Come wander with me for the moonbeams are bright, 
 On river and forest, o er mountain and lea." 
 
 Jeffreys. 
 
 THE 6th of June, the day Genevieve had appointed 
 for the picnic at Mount Vernon, in Edith s honor, 
 dawned bright and clear. Promptly at 7 o clock Ray 
 mond rang Mrs. Greyon s door-bell, having come to 
 escort Edith and Genevieve on this joyous occasion. 
 The young folks did not dwell on serious thoughts, but 
 seemed to sip the sweet nectar and enjoyment of buoy 
 ant youth, and as the day wore away happiness in 
 creased with each hour, yet as pleasure does not abate 
 the appetite, but rather increases the desire for food, all 
 soon become so hungry that it was with difficulty that 
 the artist prevailed upon the party to group themselves 
 for a picture. This task having been completed, the 
 chaperons spread the white tablecloth on the green 
 grass to receive the many good things nice fried 
 spring chicken; deviled ham; hard-boiled eggs, bar 
 becued pig; deviled crabs; boiled ham; sweet peach 
 pickles; bread of every description; salads of every 
 variety; cakes, custards, and pies to suit the appetite of 
 the most fastidious epicure; ice-cold lemonade; rasp 
 berries ; ice cream ; candies. It was just such a lunch 
 as would have made a hungry schoolboy leap for joy, 
 and wish for a picnic every day in the } T ear.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 131 
 
 Raymond was very attentive to Edith, and continu 
 ally handed her things which he thought she would 
 relish; yet he himself appeared to have lost his appe 
 tite. Edith s quick eye observing this, she commenced 
 to tease him: "You must be in love Mr. Felix? It is 
 said people in love do not eat much, if this be true, I 
 am certainly not in love, for I never was so hungry as 
 now, and as she spoke she turned her sweet, blue eyes 
 upon Raymond with bewitching sauciness. "Ha! 
 ha! in love Mr. Felix, in love!" 
 
 Raymond s dark eyes searched and pierced Edith s 
 heart as he looked into her face. "Be it so, Miss De- 
 Long, but as you are so wise it is strange your wisdom 
 has not taught you whom I love." Edith s face be 
 came suffused with blushes. She tried in vain to hide 
 her countenance from Raymond s earnest gaze, and it 
 w r as with some effort that she continued to eat her lunch, 
 which was now being partaken of in a subdued, quiet 
 way. 
 
 "Ah," thought Raymond, "I knew she could be 
 sober notwithstanding her merriment and fun ; for there 
 is an undercurrent of thoughtfulness about her that 
 makes her the jewel she is." 
 
 Luncheon being over, Raymond filled an old-fash 
 ioned gourd with cool water, and poured it upon Edith s 
 white hands, giving her at the same time his large silk 
 handkerchief that she might dry them. "Come, Miss 
 Edith, you have yet to see the spot where Washington 
 rests. Suppose we go now to where his body first lay 
 entombed." As it was but a short walk, the young 
 couple soon stood before a cavity that appeared to have 
 been dug in the mountain side. It was a small vault 
 bricked under and above the ground, fast filling with 
 leaves and earth. "Miss Edith, there is nothing to be 
 seen here, let us walk to the hero s present vault."
 
 132 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "I will be ready as soon as I pick up one of these 
 leaves from our great general s tomb." 
 
 "I will get it for you?" said Raymond. 
 
 "No, I thank you, I prefer getting it myself, for I 
 wish to say Edith DeLong picked up the leaf, and not 
 that Raymond Felix did," and quick as thought, Edith 
 stooped and picked a large green leaf, which she en 
 twined with some of the long verdant grasses that 
 waved at her feet. "Now I am ready to go, Mr.. 
 Felix." The young people walked until they came in 
 front of a large vault, which was closed by a massive 
 iron gate, and looking through the grating, they could 
 see two sarcophagi containing the ashes of George and 
 Martha Washington. Raymond took his hat from his 
 head, and stood reverently before the vault, for he felt 
 he was in the presence of one who although dead, yet 
 lives through the good he did, and would live through 
 all eternity. Each day in the years to come would sons 
 of America stand where he now stood, and as they 
 thought of the pure life of their great commander, 
 would themselves determine to live better lives; for 
 they must feel that this present existence is not all of 
 life, but that righteousness and purity of character shall 
 live in the memory of mankind long after we lay cold 
 in death. 
 
 Edith stood near Raymond. She too was thinking, 
 but such thoughts as were more in keeping with a 
 woman s emotions. "This is his wife who now sleeps 
 by his side, and I have no doubt but that she loved and 
 esteemed him so highly that no task was a burden to 
 her when performed for him. I do not suppose she 
 ever had a thought of self, for it was ever her desire to 
 please and make her husband happy. When he be 
 came disheartened, her words of love and encourage 
 ment spurred him on to greater deeds of victory."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 133 
 
 Neither of the young people had spoken for several 
 minutes at last Raymond broke the silence: "Miss 
 Edith, I suppose you know that the sarcophagi rest on 
 electric wires extending to the house, to which are at 
 tached bells that give the alarm to inmates in the house, 
 should robbers ever try to desecrate the tomb? The 
 gate is locked, and I am told the key is thrown in the 
 Potomac River. But come with me, Miss Edith, I 
 know you are tired ; you have not stopped one minute 
 to-day. The lovers then strolled here and there over 
 the green mountain side, trying to find a suitable place 
 to rest. At last, from the gaze of any one, they sat 
 beneath an old oak tree, whose drooping branches 
 waved just above the long grassy turf. 
 
 Edith wore a simple lawn which was cool and picnic- 
 like, and her large white leghorn hat was trimmed in 
 dainty primroses. Her hair had not been arranged 
 since early morn, and as she took her hat in her hands, 
 little golden ringlets stole here and there over her pretty 
 head, making her even more betwitchingly picturesque 
 than was her usual wont. And her ruby, pouting lips, 
 dark violet eyes, and dimpled face made her to look 
 almost childlike. Yet Edith was a woman who com 
 bined with her gentle nature a saucy piquancy, which 
 irresistable charm added much to her already fascinat 
 ing qualities ; hence she was easily the pet in all ele 
 gant society. As Raymond sat near Edith and looked 
 into her sweet, girlish face, he felt he would give the 
 world if he could possess her as his own. "But, dare 
 I tell her of my love?" and his handsome face suddenly 
 became saddened. Edith perceived his changed expres 
 sion: "Why, Mr. Felix, what is the matter? Lately 
 every time I have been with you, your face has become 
 so long and woebegone that I have about decided to 
 cut your acquaintance ; for I do not care to be such a
 
 184 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 dreadful bore. I believe I will leave you this minute 
 to your own meditations What say you? Will you 
 be happy then?" and she gave her head a pretty toss, 
 and a twinkle of merriment came into her mischievous 
 blue eyes. 
 
 \ "Tell me quickly, am I the cause of your discomfi 
 ture? Mother says I am her sunshine, but I must be 
 your cloud of darkness ; unless perhaps you have heard 
 sad news from home? but excuse me, I did not wish to 
 be rude." For Edith saw Raymond s face grow darker 
 and more sad the longer she spoke. She determined 
 not to say another word, and await the young man s 
 answer. 
 
 "Hear me, Miss Edith," and Raymond s voice grew 
 tender and low. Many years ago my father took me to 
 a little village in the far South, what his mission was 
 I never knew, but while there a good lad}" died who 
 had been the wife of his best friend. I was taken to 
 the funeral, and after the poor woman had been buried, 
 father requested me to put some flowers that he had 
 brought on her grave. I obeyed my father s com 
 mands, and as I did so a little girl with dark blue eyes 
 and golden curls came also and scattered white roses 
 about the newly made mound. I saw her only for a 
 moment, yet it was sufficient time to impress her kr>, e- 
 liness indelibly on my mind, for I have seen her face 
 ever afterward in my dreams. I endeavored to forget 
 her, yet perceiving this to be impossible tried to find 
 her. But as the years passed by, I despaired of seeing 
 my sweet treasure, and hope failing me, I grew weary 
 of life and fell sick. It was then that father sent me 
 to this place, thinking a change would help me. 
 Gradually I became worse until one day all unexpectedly 
 I found my blue-eyed angel a child no longer, but a 
 woman beautiful and fair; and although sweet and
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 135 
 
 pure yet in one thing, she was cruel she laughed her 
 lovers to scorn, and in her glee and fun saw not at her 
 feet a heart bleeding and torn. Ah, fair creature, won 
 der not I am tortured. Mercy, mercy, sweet Edith, ere 
 I die!" 
 
 The merriment in Edith s sweet girlish face changed 
 to a crimson blush. Tear hiding beneath the long 
 silken lashes, stealing by roses and dimples in the 
 round baby-like cheek, fell in dewy pearls upon 
 her soft white hands. Raymond observing the young 
 girl s emotion, exclaimed: "God be praised, Edith, my 
 darling, my all ! you sympathize with me, and pity is 
 akin to love. Ah, my angel, with your love, I will 
 never more be sad, but will be happy ever, even as you 
 are." 
 
 As he spoke, he took the little dimpled hand in his, 
 and if Edith thought this a sin, she just let herself sin. 
 She knew Raymond loved her, and felt assured it was 
 impossible for Raymond Felix to be a flirt. Yes, she 
 knew furthermore, she loved him, and oh, how happy 
 she was she could never, never tell. 
 
 "He loves me!" 
 
 The old boat blew shrilly, for it w r as now time for 
 the picnic party to return home. Edith and Raymond 
 had forgotten they lived on earth, and now to come 
 back to the w T orld and mix and mingle with common 
 humanity was just a little more than they could pa 
 tiently endure ; and then she, sweet girl, imagined every 
 one was gazing upon her, and knew every word that 
 Raymond had said to her. Seeing Genevieve was but to 
 make the blushes come thick and fast in Edith s cheeks. 
 Genevieve glanced significantly first at Edith and then 
 at Raymond. She said nothing, but smiled and looked 
 exceedingly wir.y, "No one need tell me he has made 
 love to her, their shy tender glances are sufficient tell-
 
 136 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 tales," and Genevieve appeared to bo as happy as the 
 two lovers ; yet her joy was a different happiness. But 
 why tell you, reader, you remember only too well the 
 rapturous bliss you felt when first the pure bud of love 
 bloomed in your breast, blinding your eyes with sweet 
 roseate hues; making you to feel, when slain by Cupid s 
 arrows, if this be death how sweet a thing it is to .die! 
 As Edith walked into the boat that evening, she 
 thought, "Good-by, dear old Mount Vernon, this has 
 been the happiest day of all my life ; when I am old 
 and forget everything else, this day shall be ever fresh 
 in my memory."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Which way shall I fly, 
 Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? 
 Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; 
 And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep, 
 Still threatening to drown me, opens wide, 
 To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 CECIL taking Myrtle in his strong arms as if she 
 were a tiny babe carried her to her own room, and laid 
 her on her bed. "Oh, how mean and degraded I feel. 
 Cursed be the day on which I was born. What evil 
 demon for a moment possessed me to wish to harm her 
 who is as lovely as the angels of heaven? To first gain 
 her trusting love and then evermore to experience her 
 scorn, for I know she will despise me all the remainder 
 of my life. Myrtle, Myrtle, my child, forgive me. 
 Open your sad eyes once more and let me declare to 
 you by all that is pure and holy that I will live a life 
 that even you will say is worthily spent." 
 
 As he spoke the frenzied man bathed the white face 
 and hands of the unconscious girl, but it seemed to do 
 no good, for Myrtle continued to murmur in her de 
 lirium 
 
 "Shall I- die? Shall I live? Oh, Cecil Cecil 
 my brother brother! Good brother; no no 
 no--!" 
 
 And the poor girl gave a heartrending sliriek. 
 Cecil felt that he could not endure to hear Myrtle s sad
 
 138 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 reproaches longer, so kneeling beside her bed, he 
 buried his face in his hands and moaned in despair : 
 
 "Oh, Myrtle, Myrtle, kill me, murder me, do any 
 thing you will, only open your e} T es once more so that 
 I may tell you the truth." 
 
 It was far into the next day; Cecil wished to go for 
 a doctor, yet there was no one with whom he could 
 leave Myrtle it so happening the servant was sick 
 that morning, and Leita had not yet returned home. 
 "If I leave her, consciousness may return, and she 
 might end her life ere I come back, so I will stay near 
 by her, God helping me." 
 
 Patiently Cecil watched by the fair creature s bed 
 side, and the anguish he experienced was no more than 
 he felt he justly deserved. Later on in the day, Myrtle 
 slept more peacefully, and a few moments after, she 
 opened her sad, dark eyes. Cecil could not meet her 
 gaze, try as he would. The poor girl sat up in bed and 
 looked wildly about her, forgetting where she was or 
 what had happened ; then suddenly the horrors of the 
 past night flashed vividly across her mind with a low 
 moan she sank again on her pillow, and incoherent 
 words mingled with heartrending sobs came to Cecil s 
 ear: "Ah my Maker, my Creator. " 
 
 "Myrtle, Myrtle, my child, rest easy I know you hate 
 me you have a right to do so, but believe me for your 
 own sake when I say you are the same sweet Myrtle you 
 have ever boen. Oh, Myrtle, forgiA e. forgive me, if 
 you can, and forget the words I uttered last night kill 
 me, dog that I am, but my child, I now humbly plead 
 and implore your forgiveness!" 
 
 Myitle wept and sobbed in her anguish. Cecil AVI pod 
 her fast flowing tears, but he did not kiss or call her 
 endearing names for fear she would misconstrue his 
 meaning j he only wished to convince her that he had
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 159 
 
 deeply repented his misdemeanor, and would never 
 again speak as he had once spoken. Yet how he would 
 ever make her believe in him again he did not know. 
 
 "Brother Cecil, please leave me, I wish to be alone." 
 
 "Myrtle, my child, I know you think I am an in 
 truder, but I am here to watch you that you do nothing 
 rash. If you promise me not to harm yourself, I will 
 go as you have commanded." 
 
 "Cecil, do not fear that I will do myself injury, for 
 had I not felt that it was wrong in the sight of God to 
 commit suicide, I, would have been dead ere this day 
 dawned upon my luckless head. Go, leave me, I en 
 treat you!" 
 
 Cecil felt words were useless now; that it would 
 take many years to prove to Myrtle his deep contrition ; 
 the sad man then arose and left her room. Myrtle on 
 being left alone, gave vent to a fresh flood of grief. 
 My Maker, the fearful dream I had! Where shall I 
 flee? There is not one person in the wide, wide world 
 to whom I might go and find comfort my mother, the 
 one who should have protected me, sent me here, and 
 she would scorn and hate me ; and how shall I ever 
 know Cecil told me the truth? I have only his word, 
 and how can I believe him? Oh, my Saviour, my Re 
 deemer, I have tried so hard all my life to do that 
 which was right in Thy sight ; why must I endure tor 
 ture, while others go free. Father, let me die, let me 
 die!" 
 
 The poor girl fell on her knees, and poured out her 
 soul to Him who alone can heal the broken-hearted ; and 
 then with a sigh that was more akin to a moan, she 
 arose and dressed herself. 
 
 As she v.-ont before the large mirror to arrange her 
 beautiful hair, she started back -"Is this Myrtle? no- 
 no Itima, Idirui i% my name I yet why did not my
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 Brutus slay me, and thus once for all end my mis 
 ery?" 
 
 Many days passed ere Cecil and Myrtle were again 
 alone; Myrtle having avoided her brother, and Cecil 
 determining not to thrust himself upon one whom he 
 knew despised him ; then again he felt I know now 
 how easily I can do wrong; hence I must be ever 
 watchful lest I fall into sin." 
 
 Persons living in the same house are almost sure to 
 be thrown into each other s society sooner or later. 
 Leita, Cecil, and Myrtle were all sitting together in the 
 front yard, when one of the servants called Leita. The 
 wife arose immediately and walked away, leaving 
 Cecil and Myrtle face to face for the first time since 
 their fearful experience. Neither spoke for some time. 
 Cecil wished that Myrtle might break the silence, for 
 he knew not what to say; but she seemed lost in her 
 own meditations. "I know she loathes me. " At last 
 he said: Myrtle, for Heaven s sake do not look as if 
 you were not going to forgive me. To err is human ; 
 to forgive divine. ; 
 
 "Yes, Cecil, but I am not divine; divinity alone can 
 forgive you Cecil. Ask pardon at the throne of grace 
 let me be the sooner I die, the better; but if I must 
 live, I ask one favor of you please persuade my 
 mother to send me to boarding school, for I dare not 
 face my parents from day to day; neither do I think I 
 should remain \vhere your wife is; and you know it is 
 best I should not see you. Hence, if you have any pity 
 whatever in your heart plead with my mother to send 
 me to a boarding school. If I must endure torture, let 
 me be with those that do not know me; and perhaps 
 life can be better borne among new scenes and strange 
 faces. There is no use for me to ask mother to let me 
 go to school, for I have made the request of her many
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 141 
 
 times, and her answer is ever: No, indeed, I wish you 
 to remain ignorant ; it is in keeping with your mean 
 ness. But God being my helper, I will endeavor to 
 rise above everything that would drag me downward. 
 My Maker knows that I have ever tried to do that 
 which was right, hence I can still ask His help if God 
 be for me, who can be against me?" 
 
 Myrtle seemed to have forgotten her brother s pres 
 ence, and talked with herself. Cecil s cheeks burned 
 with shame: "If I could only undo what I have done; 
 but it is too late ! too late ! Where do you wish to go, 
 Myrtle?" 
 
 "I would like to go to Europe, but of course this is 
 impossible. I would go North somewhere anywhere 
 so that I fly w r here I am not known." 
 
 "When do you wish to leave?" 
 
 "To-day, if I might get off." 
 
 "Myrtle, to go soon is out of the question; you 
 would be obliged to have your clothing made before 
 leaving, and in order to do this, we shall have to return 
 home immediately, which is impossible; I think it is 
 best for you to stay here a few more weeks, and then 
 when we return home, I will persuade your mother to 
 let you go to school. 
 
 Cecil thought, "I will prove to her before she leaves 
 that there is still some good in me if I did at on time 
 forget to be a gentleman." 
 
 Myrtle replied: "I can only submit to the inevitable, 
 brother Cecil, and abide by the whims of Leita 
 coming into the yard at this moment the conversation 
 between brother and sister was abruptly broken off. 
 
 Strange as it may appear from this time forth, Cecil 
 became one of the most devoted husbands. Each even 
 ing he would come and take his wife for a drive. De 
 luded woman, she knew not in her joy that she should
 
 142 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 thank Myrtle for her happiness. Some days when the 
 wife was very busy, she would insist on Myrtle s going 
 driving with Cecil. Myrtle would tell her sister that 
 Bhe would do her work and let her go, but Leita would 
 never consent to leaving her homo duties to another, 
 and Myrtle, unable to find a proper excuse, felt compelled 
 to go driving w r ith Cecil, whom she feared more than 
 death. Myrtle s mental sufferings on these trips were 
 beyond description. She would tremble and her heart 
 beat loudly, for she knew she was miles and miles away 
 from any human soul. It was on these occasions 
 Myrtle would cry: "Brother Cecil, pity pity, have 
 mercy, only mercy! Oh, my brother, why do you 
 bring me here?" 
 
 "Ah! Myrtle, I know you hate and despise me for 
 bringing you here, but I would prove to you, child, 
 that I am still your loving brother," and Cecil would 
 wipe the cold dews from his damp brow. 
 
 "Myrtle, why do you tremble? Shall my one mis 
 take never be forgotten?" Cecil s intentions were the 
 purest, but the torture that came to poor Myrtle s soul 
 was indescribable, for that one dreadful night came 
 afresh to her mind ever} 7 time she was taken upon those 
 desolate drives. " If I can but gain her confidence once 
 more, she will then cease to fear me, and her life will 
 begin to be happy; yet she seems to misconstrue my 
 good intentions, and mortal fear has taken the place of 
 the sweet childish trust she once gave me ; but what 
 more can I expect do I not know the way of the 
 transgressor is hard. Oh God, I feel that this error of 
 mine is going to stare me in the face until my latest 
 day. I would be willing to bear my own remorse if I 
 could only see her happy once more ; but those sad eyes 
 of hers almost drive me mad when I know that I have 
 been the cause of their deeper sadness. How she can
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 143 
 
 assume such cheerfulness in the presence of my wife is 
 a myster} ; what a grand actress she would have made, 
 yet I know her acting is no easy task." 
 
 Yes, there was H struggle going on in Myrtle s 
 beast ; a sorrow which was beyond even Cecil s sight 
 it took the great eye of God alone to fathom its depths. 
 Myrtle s life seemed to be ebbing away. Her pillow 
 each night was bathed in tears, and often she, walked 
 the floor in sorrow when others were asleep she the 
 innocent victim of another s wrong. Myrtle well knew 
 if she had not looked to God for help that long ago she 
 would have tried to end her misery in death. How 
 she longed for the days to go by that she might go 
 away to school. 
 
 Ulhugh having a few weeks holiday thought he 
 would return home where he would be near his brother s 
 grave, so to dear old Florida he had come once more. 
 After the fatigue of travel had somewhat worn away, 
 and he had dusted and refreshed himself, in the cool of 
 the evening he walked toward this cherished spot. 
 Placing sweet flowers upon the low mound, Ulhugh 
 stood over that lonely spot, and thought of the happy 
 days gone by never to return the hunting, the fishing, 
 the boating, the sweet Sabbath days when he had 
 walked hand in hand with brother going to church, 
 but now how changed! Brother sleeps in peace and I 
 am left to mourn. Ah, dear brother to think that you 
 will never, never come back to me! and the poor boy 
 brushed away the fast falling tears as he turned to rest 
 under an old oak tree whose long gray moss seemed 
 ever to wave and weep over Edward s grave. 
 
 Ulhugh being wrapped in sad meditations saw not 
 the pensive face of a sweet girl near by, for Myrtle 
 when most cast down often came and sat beside Ed 
 ward s grave, seeming to find some comfort in this lowly
 
 144 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 mound; but the young girl wished to-day that she had 
 remained at home, feeling that Ulhvigh would prefer 
 being alone with his grief. As the youth approached 
 her, she said: Please excuse me, I am afraid I am an 
 intruder. 
 
 "No, no, how can you speak thus? Whenever I see 
 you, I think of my dear brother, for I met you when 
 first I found him. Do not leave me; sit here and tell 
 me all the news ; why, you have been sick? I hardly 
 recognized you." A deep flush came to Myrtle s 
 cheeks. Ulhugh saw the girl s embarrassment, and 
 wondered what it meant. 
 
 "Well, Miss Myrtle, tell me the news; are there any 
 new comers for the winter?" 
 
 "Not yet; I hear, how r ever, a Mr. Lamont and his 
 mother will be here next week from the North. Mrs. 
 Lamont is well known to some of our best ladies, and 
 all unite in saying she is a most excellent woman. It 
 is said she had an only son who went to the war when 
 quite young, and is considered a brave, true man." 
 
 "Yes, and for all I know helped to kill my poor 
 father. Miss Myrtle, when you begin to talk about 
 war, I immediately become excited, for you know father 
 was slain in battle, subsequently mother died of a 
 broken heart, and my brothers and sisters were scat 
 tered over the world, I know not where. What a 
 dreadful thing it is to think I might have often passed 
 my own brothers and sisters upon the streets and not 
 recognized them? They know not that I am alive, 
 neither do I know if they are living. Ah, what a hor 
 rible thing is war its tragedies do not end with men 
 being killed, this is only the beginning of sadder 
 calamities, for weak women and children are left to 
 suffer want and misery for thirty or more years after 
 the din of the battle ceases. But I do not like to dwell
 
 THE IDKS OF MARCH. 145 
 
 on this subject, it makes me too sad. To be alone in 
 the world with no one to care whether I live or die, 
 never a kiss from mother or sister, or a God bless you, 
 ray son from father, no happy greetings from brothers 
 these joys all taken from one who could have loved 
 ^,0 devotedly. When from day to day I feel such deso 
 lations, I become so heart-sick that it takes all the cour 
 age I possess to go forward and make a man of myself. 
 But why burden you thus, you can never sympathize 
 with me, for you have too many loved ones on earth to 
 comprehend the feelings of one who is left alone in the 
 world. Banish from your mind what I have said, and 
 tell me something of yourself have you any plans for 
 another year?" 
 
 "Yes, I am thinking of going to boarding school; 
 things have not yet been arranged, but I feel almost 
 certain of going North in a few weeks. 
 
 "North! I would not go to school North, if I were 
 you." 
 
 "Yes, I prefer going there." 
 
 Shall I not see you for some time? 
 
 "I suppose not, as I expect to be North for several 
 years until I finish school." 
 
 "That is bad, I will not know the place after you are 
 gone, yet I may write to you?" 
 
 "I fear I will have to say you nay! " 
 
 "What! are you not going to correspond with me 
 the only person I ever requested to write to me? But I 
 will not ask you the second time." 
 
 Ulhugh gazed upon the fair, cold girl before him, 
 and thought: "She is rich and has a great influential 
 name, hence she looks down on me as some object of 
 charity, but God being my helper, she shall yet respect 
 me blockhead that I was to think that she would 
 notice me. She is only kind to me as she is to every
 
 146 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 one. I wonder what has come over her? She looks at 
 me as if she bated me; tfhe was ever dignified and sad, 
 yet there is another expression on her face that I am 
 unable to decipher. Surely it cannot be scorn; she 
 could not have changed in so short a time?" and Ulhugh, 
 pondering these thoughts in his mind, tipped his hat, 
 leaving Myrtle to her own meditation. 
 
 "He would correspond with me, but should I write 
 to him? Let him seek one good and true as himself." 
 At this moment the demon seemed to rise in Myrtle s 
 breast. "Good and true, did I sa} T ? Who is good and 
 true? For all I know he wishes to make me love him 
 so that he too may add misery to my already distracted 
 soul. No, the sooner I find out the falseness of human 
 nature the better for me." 
 
 As Myrtle pondered, she saw Cecil approaching. 
 How she feared his presence; she wished to flee from 
 his sight, but he was now too near her. "Myrtle, my 
 child, I do not wish to startle you and why do you 
 tremble I came only to say Ulhugh is here." 
 
 "You need not have troubled yourself, I am already 
 aware of the fact/ 
 
 "I am glad he has come, Myrtle, now you may think 
 less of your trouble; I fear your life will be shortened 
 if you continue to ponder over what has passed. Try 
 to forget all unhappiness it is the only hope of your 
 life being spared, my child." 
 
 "Cecil, fear not; death rarely comes to the threshold 
 of a waiting guest ; no, he is not so civil ; but, as a grim 
 monster, he would snatch those fair ones that still long 
 for life and happiness. I am here for many a day. 
 Please leave me ; is it not enough you have made me 
 miserable; why add unhappiness to my life day after 
 day by your presence?" 
 
 "Myrtle, have mercy, child, do you not see I suffer as
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 147 
 
 much as you? Look into my face; would you recog 
 nize me as the same man? Thrust a dagger into my 
 heart and end my life, unless you wish me to live so 
 that I might prove to you if a man sins once there is 
 no reason why he should alway he enthralled by Satan. 
 On my knees I implore your mercy, for you have never 
 told me you forgave me;" and Cecil threw himself at 
 Myrtle s feet. 
 
 She gazed upon him with coldness and disdain ; his 
 face was haggard and wan, but there was no pity in 
 the girl s dark, flashing e}~e. "Ah, Cecil, you who 
 taught me to love you as a sister, taught me also to 
 hate you as a viper; and now would you regain my 
 love that you might once more beguile me into sin? I 
 tell you I am no more a child to be deceived by you. 
 Dare I pity you he that can be false once, can be 
 false twice. You say you suffer I am tortured. 
 You say you are in anguish the demons that inhabit 
 the bottomless pit have alone endured my torment ; let 
 me pass," and with queenly majesty, yet with sorrow 
 written upon her pale face, Idma, the child of luck 
 less destiny, left Cecil Clair grovelling in the dust 
 crying: "I deserve it all; my punishment is greater 
 than I can bear ; ah, I know at last the meaning of 
 poor Byron s words: 
 
 " The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree 
 I planted, they have torn me, and I bleed ; 
 I should have known what fruit would spring 
 From such seed."
 
 148 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 " From haunted spring and dale, 
 Edged with popular pale, 
 The parting genius is with sighing sent." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 ULHUGH had been gone only a few days when there 
 arrived in the little village of E - Mrs. Lament and 
 her son Lenfred. This elegant lady was quite an addi 
 tion to the social circle of the place, and as she was al 
 ready known to some of the best ladies, she was soon 
 introduced to the elite of the village. Leita, being one 
 of the first ladies to call, took Mrs. Lament to her heart 
 with true Southern warmth. She induced her to go 
 boating, driving, fishing, and in a short time the 
 attachment between the two ladies ripened into a deep 
 friendship. It was strange if they did not meet some 
 where each day. Leita often invited Mrs. Lamont and 
 her son to dine or take tea with her, and after accept 
 ing one of these kind invitations, Mrs. Lamont said to 
 Lenfred: "My son, did you ever see more refinement 
 and elegance? It seems to me everything in that house 
 it in perfect keeping, from the sweet musical voice of 
 the inmates, down to the spotless white linen and shin 
 ing silverware. I would not take anything for my 
 trip this winter, as it has been my good fortune to enter 
 a typical Southern home. I never could have known 
 what Southern life is, if I had been in a hotel. Truly 
 the women preside in their homes with queenly dignity, 
 while husbands and sons vie with each other in giving
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 149 
 
 them courtly honor. But talking about queens, did 
 you ever, my son, see a woman more worthy of being 
 called a queen than Miss Dean? Lenfred, I tell you 
 she is the most beautiful object I ever gazed upon; I 
 cannot keep my eyes from her face a second at a time 
 although I know she thinks I am the rudest person she 
 ever saw ; and her eyes ! I see them now, for they haunt 
 me day and night, yet who can discribe them they 
 seem to draw you, yet repel you; laugh, yet cry, are 
 bright, yet pensive; love you, yet hate you. Her fea 
 tures are as if chiselled; yet you would never take 
 her for a statue, for there is something about her person 
 too divinely realistic. I gaze upon her so intently at 
 times that she turns her face from me and blushes, and 
 then she becomes even more beautiful. A haughty 
 queen she appears to be, yet I feel I do her an injustice 
 when I call her proud. If she were my daughter, I 
 would be the happiest mother in all the land, and if I 
 were a boy, I know she would break my heart." 
 
 "Well mother dear, you have a boy what do you 
 think will become of him?" 
 
 "My son, you certainly have my sympathy, yet for 
 my sake and your own good, do not fall in love with 
 her, for I am afraid she would never reciprocate your 
 affection. I believe a man would have to be simply 
 perfect before she could love or even esteem him, and 
 although it will be a long time before she finds her 
 ideal, should she ever see a man whom she truly loves, 
 and should become his wife, her devotion to him would 
 be boundless. No sacrifice would be too great, no bur 
 den too heavy, if by her endurance of suffering happi 
 ness could be given her husband. A man would want 
 no greater treasure if he could only possess Myrtle as 
 his jewel. But beware, Lenfred, incase your heart in 
 ice, for although she would never turn a straw to
 
 150 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 gain any man s love, men cannot keep from loving 
 her. because she is so surpassingly beautiful." 
 
 Mother, if what you say is true, I think we had 
 better take the next train, for I am not prepared for the 
 onslaught of any woman, much less the sweet, seduc 
 tive wiles of such a fair, fascinating angelic being." 
 
 "My boy, I have told } r ou of this lovely woman sim 
 ply to impress on your mind the old adage Forewarned 
 is forearmed." 
 
 "I will try to take your advice, mother dear, but you 
 must remember I am human and do not expect too 
 much of me; but I did not know yon could over think I 
 would be devoted to any girl as long as I continue to 
 possess the love of the sweetest mother on earth;" and 
 Lenfred bent and kissed that mother whom he had 
 worshipped since babyhood. "My boy, it is but 
 natural that you should try soon to win you a wife, for 
 you have become thoroughly established in your medi 
 cal profession and have a wide, influential practice and 
 a goodly sum of money in bank and I do not see that 
 you need but one more blessing to make your happiness 
 complete, and that is a good wife. 
 
 "I know I have the best mother in all the world, and 
 that is the reason I do not get married, for I am afraid 
 I can never find a wife so noble as you. dear mother, 
 and the dreadful comparison would make me most 
 miserable." 
 
 "You are mistaken, my boy; there are many women 
 who will equal your mother in every respect; and you 
 have only to open your eyes when you wish to select a 
 irue wife. But, my son, it is growing late, we must 
 not talk more as we wish to go to Silver Springs to 
 morrow where it is said if you drop a pin in the sprirpj 
 you can see it eighty feet below you as it lies in it ^ 
 crystal bed. We must go and see that wonderful spot 
 kiss me e-ood-nic ht."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 15i 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? 
 Like a swift-fleeing meteor, a fast flying cloud, 
 A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, 
 He passes from life to rest in the grave." 
 
 Knox. 
 
 WHEN the winter season had ended in Florida Mrs. 
 Lament and Leita had become fast friends. Myrtle 
 speaking of going to school in New York, Mrs. Lament 
 asked her if she knew any one in the city. 
 
 "No, madam, I haven t a single acquaintance there. " 
 
 "Why, Myrtle, this is dreadful;" yet after a mo 
 ment s thought, the good woman continued. "I am 
 selfish enough to say I am glad you have no friends 
 North, for maybe your mother will consent to your 
 coming to my house. How would you like being a 
 guest of mine, my child?" 
 
 "I am sure it is very kind of you to wish to have me 
 in your house, Mrs. Lament, but I am so dull, I would 
 soon bore you to death. I think I had better board in 
 school where if I make myself a nuisance, the faculty 
 will have no reluctancy in expelling me." 
 
 "Ah, if you have no better reason than this, my child, 
 you shall certainly come to my house. I will, how 
 ever, consult your sister and brother upon the subject ; 
 and Mrs. Lament arose immediately and went into the 
 yard where Leita and Cecil were sitting. After talk 
 ing a long time on the subject, the- {.jood woman ended 
 her conversation by saying: "I just must have her.
 
 152 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 She would be such a comfort to me, for Lenfred is 
 absent from home so much, it would be the pleasure of 
 my life to have her in my house. Leita you must cer 
 tainly fix it with her mother. 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Lamont, I think we can arrange every 
 thing to suit you. Sister generally grants my every 
 request. Listen furthermore we leave for home in a 
 few days I believe I heard you say, you would be 
 here several weeks longer and would then pass through 
 Savannah to meet her cultured people and to see her 
 far famed cemetery, before going North. This is well 
 for our plans, for on my arrival home, I will consult 
 sister in reference to Myrtle, and will immediately 
 write her answer. If sister consents, Myrtle will meet 
 you in Savannah, and you can all sail to New York at 
 the same time." 
 
 "Ah, the plan is indeed lovely. I hope it is not too 
 good to be true." Not many days from this time Leita 
 bade Mrs. Lamont good-by, and accompanied by her 
 husband and Myrtle, returned home. It was only 
 necessary for Leita and Cecil to make a request of Mrs. 
 Dean hence they were not astonished at their sister s 
 answer : 
 
 "Certainly, I have no objection at all to your pro 
 posed plans." 
 
 As soon as Mj T rtle heard that she was going from 
 home, she commenced immediately to prepare for her 
 trip. The mother did not turn her hands in helping 
 Myrtle arrange her wardrobe for school. Every gar 
 ment was done by the young girl s own fingers. When 
 night came, Myrtle would be too tired to sleep, and her 
 eyes burned like coals of fire, yet she knew in order to 
 be ready to return home with Mrs. Lamont. she bad 
 not a moment to spare ; and to add to her discomfiture, 
 Mrs. Dean scolded her day and night. "You need not
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 153 
 
 think I love you any more because I have consented to 
 your going to school. I never expected to send you to 
 boarding school, preferring you to remain in ignorance, 
 but your sister and brother wished you to go North, 
 and it is only to please them that I grant their request 
 and send you from home; yet I will be glad when you 
 are out of my sight, for I hate to look upon your face. 
 You certainly must have done something dreadful 
 lately, or else why do you go about the house looking 
 down and crying half your time? I suppose you will 
 go North and disgrace the family by making a goose 
 of yourself. I cannot imagine why Cecil should take 
 up his time in begging for your pleasure. The only 
 fault Cecil has is his being too kind to you, but he will 
 find you out after awhile, and hate you as much as I 
 do." 
 
 Myrtle listened to her mother s cruel remarks with 
 feelings of delight rather than pain. "Let her scold as 
 much as she pleases. What would she not say if she 
 knew all that has befallen me? and the poor girl hung 
 her head still lower over her work, never trying for one 
 moment to shield herself from the reproaches heaped 
 upon her by her unfeeling mother. 
 
 That Myrtle did not sink under the many trials she 
 had to endure was a positive proof of her strong and 
 beautiful character. Cecil had never been alone with 
 her since their return home. His eyes ever sought hers 
 that he might receive one pitying glance, but no ! cold 
 scorn was the only expression he had yet found on the 
 young girl s face. The last day of Myrtle s stay was 
 drawing to a close; her trunk w T as packed, and she 
 longed to depart ; the moments could not fly fast enough 
 not one regret, not one tear would she shed, and she 
 well knew none would grieve to see her leave. All the 
 family save Myrtle had gone out for a drive, yet she
 
 154 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 was indeed glad to be left alone, for it was the only 
 time she ever had any degree of happiness. 
 
 The j oung girl was not by herself, however, for as 
 she was walking in the garden Cecil drew near to her. 
 Myrtle with sadness written on her countenance turned 
 to speak to him: "I thought you hud gone for a drive?" 
 
 "I did expect to go. Myrtle, but when I remembered 
 this would be my last opportunity of seeing you alone 
 I made some excuse and remained at home." 
 
 "And pray why do you wish to see me alone? I did 
 not know the performance of your daily duties necessi 
 tated your being in my presence." 
 
 "Myrtle, child, please do not talk to me so cuttingly. 
 It might be the last time we are alone for years. You 
 know how bitterly I have repented, are you not going 
 to forgive me? Ah, Myrtle you were once so gentle 
 and forgiving; is it possible, you w r ill never be your 
 true self again? 
 
 Idma did not deign to answer Cecil, but looked on 
 him with cold disdain as much as to say, "Who 
 changed me?" Cecil understood her glance, and his 
 face grew sad. 
 
 "Myrtle, as sorry as I am to see you leave, I am glad 
 for your sake you are going, for you will soon forget 
 the past when some handsome boy falls in love with 
 you. In thinking of his devotion you will become 
 once more happy. Ah, God knows, Myrtle, until you 
 find joy and happiness only then will my poor soul rest 
 in peace and comfort. I know you do not believe my 
 words, nevertheless they are all true, my child. When 
 you shall love some good man, you will forget all in 
 the past that has made you so miserable." 
 
 And do you suppose, Cecil, I could ever love any 
 man? You have taught me another lesson Hate 
 and I think I have learned it well."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 155 
 
 "You feel so now, Myrtle, but you are too young and 
 beautiful to continue with such unwomanly thoughts. 
 Men w T ill utter their vows of devotion, and, although 
 you may laugh many to scorn, still there will be one 
 person whom you will learn to love, and then your 
 better nature will conquer your hatred of men, and you 
 will become the sweet, gentle, trusting, confiding 
 Myrtle that you were wont to be in childhood days, 
 and how happy I shall be when that day comes. 
 
 "That day will never come, Cecil Clair, to Idma 
 Dean ! but I hear some one coming leave me, for I 
 would not be found with you. 
 
 Cecil left Myrtle and she saw him no more until the 
 next morning when he came to take her to the train. 
 Mrs. Dean had gone shopping, leaving Myrtle, to get to 
 the depot as best she could and not even did the mother 
 bid the child good-by. "Myrtle, the carriage is ready 
 and if you do not object I will accompany you to the 
 depot and purchase your ticket and check your bag 
 gage?" 
 
 A short drive brought them to the depot. Cecil 
 helped Myrtle on the train and went to purchase her 
 ticket to Savannah where she was to meet Mrs. La- 
 mont. Minutes passed and Myrtle saw nothing of her 
 brother; the whistle blew, still, Cecil did not come; the 
 train had started when Cecil came running so as to 
 hand Myrtle her ticket through the open window that 
 he had raised just before leaving the car. 
 
 "Good -by, Myrtle, may God bless you child, and 
 make you very happy. Forgive but before Cecil 
 finished the sentence the train had carried Myrtle be 
 yond the reach of her brother s words. Cecil had re 
 mained out of the train for a purpose. 
 
 "I know she will not wish to kiss me good-by hence 
 I will not give her any unnecessary pain, so will let
 
 156 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 her think I cannot buy her ticket readily or that I am 
 busy in some way with the checking of her trunk." 
 
 She divined Cecil s motives in not returning to the 
 train sooner. "Poor man, I believe he has repented," 
 but in another moment a second thought came into her 
 mind. "Ah, my Maker, his repentance does me no 
 good now. 
 
 "Tickets! Tickets!" 
 
 As Myrtle handed her ticket to the conductor she 
 thought? "Thank God I am going going anywhere 
 rather than home a home only in name."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 15? 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " A life on the ocean wave! 
 A home on the rolling deep, 
 Where the scattered waters rave, 
 And the winds their revel keep! " 
 
 Sargent. 
 
 A DAY after leaving Savannah, where she met her 
 friends, Myrtle perceived she was far from the sight of 
 land, and was now on the bosom of the broad Atlantic. 
 Every way she turned was water, water only the 
 green water below and the blue sky above ; no trees, no 
 land, only that vast trackless waste that now appeared 
 in its momentary calmness to be a smooth sea of glass. 
 
 As she lay in her berth that night she thought, 
 "Why am I so sick when every one else on board seems 
 to be perfectly well? The sea is calm, and as far as I 
 can see, there is nothing to cause it. - Cecil," she con 
 tinued, as if speaking to him in person, "did you tell 
 me the truth? My God, if he has deceived me!" and 
 the poor girl wrung her hand in misery thinking: 
 
 " Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark, 
 
 Wherever blows the welcome wind 
 It cannot lead to scones more dark, 
 More sad tiian these we leave behind." 
 
 At midnight the old ship stopped in mid ocean, and 
 there was a heavy tramp, tramp, as if some heavy body 
 was being brought up the stairs leading to the deck. 
 Myrtle closed her eyes, knowing not what it meant. A
 
 158 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 dead man s body was brought on deck and placed near 
 the captain, where had already gathered quite a number 
 of the ship s crew. The stars flecked the heavens in 
 their matchless beauty, but no one seemed to notice 
 them, so intent were all on the scene before them. A 
 small lantern was held near the captain that he might 
 see to read the funeral services, thus casting a weird light 
 upon the weatherbeaten and scarred faces of the old 
 sailors. There was a solemn hush ; the captain in deep 
 clerical tones read some lines from a prayer book. 
 When he had finished the hearts of all stood still 
 what next? A large plank with weights attached was 
 brought and on it the body of the dead man was placed. 
 After tying the body on firmly ropes were put under 
 the plank by which to let the body down into the water. 
 With breathless suspense the finale was awaited. The 
 body was lifted to the.side of the ship; was slowly low 
 ered down, down ; when about halfway to the waters 
 brink the plank gave way and with a horrible heart 
 sickening thud the lifeless body struck the cold deep 
 and sank out of sight. All stood aghast ; not a sound 
 could be heard. The sea seemed to have hushed its 
 murmur as it received another luckless victim into her 
 dark bosom. The moon high in the heavens looked down 
 with sad pitying eyes, making the scene even more 
 awesome. No one moved, but every one seemed rooted 
 to the spot. If their hearts did beat, they seemed sud 
 denly to have stopped. Had death overtaken all on 
 board? and as they pondered the old ship began to 
 move slowly but surely on. 
 
 Lenfred talked long to Myrtle that night, experien 
 cing the greatest pleasure, as he ever did in her compan} . 
 "Is the sea not calm to-night? the captain says he has 
 rarely ever known it so peaceful." 
 
 "I hope it is not a calm before a storm."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 159 
 
 "None of your evil prophesying, Miss Myrtle." 
 But whether prophecy or not, before another day had 
 dawned there was a great storm upon the ocean. The 
 old ship tossed and pitched now trembling on the crest 
 of a wave, now sinking down with water walled around 
 her, seeming as if she would never rise again. The 
 waves looked like hundreds of snow-capped mountains 
 hurled into the midst of the boiling sea. Those who 
 would try to get on deck would be hurled headlong down 
 the steps while thoee who were on deck felt as the waves 
 dashed and splashed, that they too would be swept 
 into the troubled sea. The old ship creaked and 
 groaned and was tossed about in the middle of the sea 
 now forward, now backward, as if the wind had 
 caught a feather and was tossing it hither and thither. 
 The ever watchful captain, eluding the many questions 
 put to him, kept his eye on the boiling billows, while 
 the men looked on in awe and tried to comfort the fright 
 ened and screaming women, who would fall at almost 
 every step they took. There was one person on deck, 
 however, who was as nonchalant as the waves them 
 selves. Myrtle sitting on deck in her womanly beauty 
 laughed with glee as the waves dashed at her feet. 
 She was happy in the thought of being washed over 
 board and thus being freed from her sorrow. "Oh, if 
 Ho would only take me; no one would miss me; Ul- 
 hugh might, but even he would be glad if he knew all." 
 
 It was with difficulty that Lenfred had brought his 
 mother and placed her beside Myrtle ; he had noticed 
 her calmness, but then he thought it was in keeping 
 with her nature. She is unlike any creature I ever 
 saw. Mrs. Lament received no little comfort from 
 Myrtle, who looked as if she were being lulled to sleep ; 
 and could have sung with no effort, "Rocked in the 
 Cradle of the Deep."
 
 160 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 "Of all tales tis the saddest and more sad, 
 Because it makes us smile. " 
 
 Byron. 
 " I believe it because it is impossible. " 
 
 lertullian . 
 
 MRS. LAMONT lived in an elegant mansion on one of 
 the principal residence streets in the city of New York. 
 The room assigned Myrtle was a large front one the 
 most beautiful in the house. Owing to its furniture it 
 was called the "blue and white room." The walls were 
 frescoed a pale blue ; the fine brussels carpet was the 
 same delicate color, while the furniture was of a pure 
 white and faint blue. The fine lace curtains were looped 
 with blue satin ribbon ; the washstand set was of French 
 china with blue forget-me-nots; and everything 
 from picture frames and manicure set to the dainty 
 footstool was in blue and white. 
 
 Previous to their arrival, Mrs. Lamont had written 
 to the servants telling them to have the room well 
 aired, flowers in it, and everything in readiness ; as a 
 consequence, on the dresser were lilies of the valley and 
 SAveet rosebuds. On the table in the center of the 
 room was a superb music box, which must have cost 
 several hundred dollars; and as Mrs. Lamont led 
 Myrtle to her room, it was discoursing some low, sweet 
 music. "Myrtle, my child, welcome, thrice welcome to 
 my home. I have given you this room because it is 
 emblematic of your own purity and loveliness. Never 
 has any one slept in it because I have never before
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 161 
 
 found one whom I thought it would suit, but when I 
 first saw you, I thought there is one whom I would like 
 to adorn my room. You need not blush, my dear, it is 
 all too true. I do not know which is more beautiful, 
 your extreme modesty or your lovely face. I will leave 
 you now, my child, and should you desire anything just 
 press the electric button for the maid." Mrs. Lament 
 kissed the fair brow of the beautiful girl and closed the 
 door, leaving Myrtle to her own meditations. 
 
 As she was very tired, Myrtle threw herself on the 
 elegant blue lounge, which was fringed with a heavy 
 cord of white silk, and as she rested she thought: "Oh! 
 I wish I deserved all the good she thinks of me." 
 
 Myrtle had hardly been at Mrs. Lament s long 
 enough for her fatigue to wear away when her school 
 opened, which she entered with a fiill determination to 
 be one of the first in her class. Her companions looked 
 upon her as being far ahead of them ; she was polite to 
 all, intimate with none. Teachers and pupils alike 
 were amazed by her calm dignity. Myrtle began 
 taking lessons from one of the greatest masters in the 
 city, and so charmed was he with her voice that he 
 would frequently go over the time allotted her for a 
 lesson. Her voice was naturally so sweet he would 
 often forget that he was giving her a lesson, and al 
 most feel that he was listening to some sweet songster 
 over whom he had no control. Myrtle did not know 
 that Cecil had begged her mother to let her take music 
 lessons, yet felt in her heart that every advantage she 
 had was due to him. Mrs. Lament was as a minister 
 ing angel to the poor heartsick girl, but when one has 
 a burden which no one can share, knowing that to 
 divulge it would be to no advantage, happiness is an 
 impossible thing. 
 
 Myrtle felt that all the compliments showered upon
 
 102 THE IDES OF MARCH, 
 
 her were but mockery to her tortured soul. Although 
 she had been with Mrs. Lamont but a few months, she 
 felt more at home than she had ever felt in her own 
 mother s house. She received more kindness from Mrs. 
 Lamont in one day than she had from her mother in 
 all her life. God pity the mother! God pity the child! 
 that this should ever be true. Oh, mothers of our 
 Southland; oh, mothers of our Northland, can this be 
 laid at your door? Is it your fault that another has 
 won from you your child s love? Although Myrtle had 
 luxury, ease and the love and esteem of all who knew 
 her, she was yet most miserable. She felt she was 
 living in deception, and it so preyed upon her mind 
 that she was constantly ill, though she never let any 
 one know she suffered. 
 
 On night before going to her room Mrs. Lamont 
 kissed her good -night. "Why, my child, what is the 
 matter? You must have a fever, for your lips are hot 
 and dry." Poor Myrtle said nothing but went to her 
 room, and when she had entered and closed the door 
 she knelt by her bed and sobbed like a child. 
 
 "Oh, this awful suspense will turn my head w r hite as 
 cotton. Oh, my Father ! my God ! which way shall I 
 turn; whither shall I flee? I must know the worst, if 
 worst there be. I can stand it no longer; this very 
 night I shall write to Cecil." Going to her desk she 
 took out paper, pen, and ink, and wrote : 
 
 NEW YORK, N. Y., 18. 
 
 "CECIL: I write you to-night because I know not 
 which way to turn. If you have been deceiving me, 
 pity my sorrow and keep the truth from me no longer. 
 Would you keep from me what I have a right to know? 
 I will do myself no harm, nor will I ever again bo 
 known to my family but will go far away and make 
 for myself an honest living. I know I have my Maker
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 163 
 
 011 my side, and this is my only consolation. Oh, 
 Cecil ! Cecil ! Could you know the torture I have en 
 dured, you would have repented in sackcloth and 
 ashes; but it is too late, too late; what you have done 
 can never be undone. 
 
 "As I write the cold drops are upon my brow. 
 Think not this letter is written in ink. Ah, no! no! 
 would that it were but instead, the very blood of my 
 soul is engraven on each arid every letter. Cecil, I 
 know not what I write I fear I am losing my reason, 
 and why not? Is not my trouble sufficiently great to 
 drive me mad? I will write no more ; I know not what 
 to write. I only ask one favor that you will tell me 
 the truth. It will not kill me nothing can kill me, or 
 I would have died long before this day. Cecil, Cecil, 
 what am I to do? Oh, help me to hide from this cold, 
 heartless world, my poor, weary, miserable self. 
 
 "Fated, 
 
 "IDMA." 
 
 As Myrtle signed her name she fell back exhausted. 
 I have written to him at last, but how am I to get the 
 letter to him that none may know anything about it? 
 If the postman takes it to the house and any one should 
 see my handwriting, it might be opened by some mem 
 ber of the family. If I get any one else to direct it for 
 me, Cecil might carelessly throw it aside to await read 
 ing at his leisure, and hence it may fall into another s 
 hands. What am I to do? I will pray over the mat 
 ter, and perhaps by morning I will have contrived 
 some better way than I can now think of." 
 
 She then began pieparing for bed, but not much sleep 
 visited her eyes that night. Rising early next morn 
 ing, she was still in a quandary as to how to get the 
 letter off safely. What should she do with it? She 
 had often heard, "Be careful what you write, for it 
 may condemn you when least you expect it." She did 
 not know even where to leave the letter. Heretofore,
 
 164 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 she had always placed them on the table, but now sho 
 could not. She felt all would know what it contained, 
 and then she knew not but that the maid would read it. 
 "I shall put it in my pocket, but no! in pulling out my 
 handkerchief I might drop it. No, this is not best 
 what shall I do? It cost me enough to write, but that 
 seems to have been only the beginning of my trouble. 
 Ah, I have it" thrusting the fated missive near to her 
 heart she hurried off to school. All that day her heart 
 beat high. Every time she pulled out her handker 
 chief she imagined the letter was in her pocket. 
 "What if I should drop it and the girls get hold of it? 
 How they would hate me; those who now esteem me." 
 Two weeks Myrtle carried the letter not knowing 
 what to do with it. Growing desperate one day, she 
 drew the letter from its hiding place, looked quick]y 
 here and there and threw it into the mail-box with a 
 great sigh of relief. But relief did not last long, for as 
 the time drew near for Cecil to get the letter, she be 
 came very restless, so much so that Lenfred noticing 
 it said to his mother one day : 
 
 "Mother, lam a physician, but it does not take a doc 
 tor to see that something is on that girl s mind that is 
 simply driving her crazy. Can you not get her to con 
 fide in you, mother? I would not have you to think 
 for one moment that I wish you to pry into her affairs, 
 for I know you too well for that, but I think if she 
 would unbosom herself to some friend she might feel 
 better. I have taken her riding ; I have taken her to 
 parties ; I have done all I could to make her have a 
 pleasant time, and although she is the same sweet, beau 
 tiful creature, I can see that she is not thinking of what 
 she is doing, nor of what I am saying ; she is living in 
 an entirely different world ; she is living one life and 
 acting another. Few persons would notice this, but
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 165 
 
 maybe I take a little more interest in her than others 
 because she is in the house with us, you know," arid 
 Lenfred looked at his mother with a mischievous twinkle 
 in his dark-blue eyes. 
 
 "Yes, my boy," and the mother smiled sweetly, "are 
 you not glad for such a plausible excuse for liking her? 
 You need not think I have failed to notice the child 
 was troubled, with all of your liking (and ashamed to 
 own it). I admire her quite as much. As I look at 
 her at times it almost breaks my heart, yet what am I 
 to do? I dare not ask for her confidence ; and, further 
 more, if she has a sorrow she will bear it alone. But 
 we must surely be mistaken, she is too young to have 
 any care. And her sister told me she was not in love 
 with any one ; her father is a man of wealth and in 
 fluence and high honor, her mother is, I hear, an exceed 
 ingly brilliant woman and, of course, she cannot help 
 idolizing Myrtle, so what she can have to worry her is 
 beyond my conjecture. Her sad looks must surely be 
 a part of herself, for she has been so ever since I met 
 her. I hope her sorrow is only imaginary." 
 
 I also wish it might be, mother dear, but if that 
 young girl has not a hidden sorrow my opinion is not 
 worth much henceforth; but here comes the postman, 
 I will see what he has for me. The postman handed 
 Lenfred a letter for Myrtle. "I shall take it to her, 
 mother, for I am always happy to see her get a letter ; 
 she must be very lonesome so very far away from 
 home." 
 
 Lenfred went to Myrtle s room, knocked gently "I 
 have a letter for you, Miss Myrtle." Myrtle came to 
 the door, took the letter, looked at it, and as she saw the 
 handwriting she turned her face from Lenfred but not 
 before he saw the crimson come over her lovely face. 
 Lenfred saw her embarrassment and quickly turned 
 away to meet his mother at the foot of the stairs.
 
 1G6 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "Mother, her sister and brother are surely mistaken. 
 She must be iu love with some one, for when I handed 
 her the letter a few minutes ago her face turned a deep 
 red." 
 
 " That is no sign, my child; she blushes when you 
 least expect it. She might have blushed because you 
 saw her in her bedroom ; for she has the keenest sense 
 of propriety I ever knew a girl to possess. In fact all 
 of the good qualities of womankind seem to be centered 
 in our beautiful Myrtle oh, how I love her!" 
 
 "W-h-e-w, mother, don t you think I should get 
 jealous? What would you think of me if I could love 
 just a little too?" and Lenfred turned quickly away to 
 hide his blushes from his mother.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 167 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 "EVERY WHY HATH A WHEREFORE." 
 
 As soon as Lenfred left Myrtle she locked the door 
 and with fast-beating heart tore open the letter for she 
 knew before opening it that twas from Cecil. 
 
 "MY POOR LITTLE MYRTLE: Your letter received 
 my child, and you cannot imagine how much pain it 
 gives me to know that you are still in sorrow. But the 
 day will come, and God grant it may come soon, my 
 child, when you will know that what I say is true, and 
 then you will laugh at yourself for having such useless 
 fears. Yet, my child, do not think I have forgotten that 
 I am the cause of all your sorrow; I think of your grief 
 daily, yea hourly, and although I know tis only imag 
 inary, yet, you think it is real; for had you known, your 
 heart would not have been so sorely troubled. Your 
 utter ignorance of this wicked world is even more than 
 I had dreamed of. God grant it may ever be thus. 
 Your simplicity is as beautiful as your purity. Myrtle, 
 I feel you would not know me, were you to see me. yet 
 no one save myself is to blame. I realize I have made 
 you miserable. You think I have sinned more than I 
 have ; hence I can never be happy and it worries me 
 more than you can ever imagine. Do not think you 
 will be bored with my presence a^fain; knowing I am 
 the cause of your unhappiness, the strain is more than I 
 can bear, for the dreadful past is ever before me. You 
 have never said, Myrtle, that you forgave me, yet I 
 know your good kind heart better than you do yourself ; 
 and when it dawns upon you that I have ever told you 
 the truth, you will relent. Oh, Myrtle, when I think of 
 you as a sweet, little, innocent girl resting trustingly 
 and lovingly upon my breast, going to sleep as a ti
 
 108 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 bird under its mother s wing; when I think of you thus. 
 Myrtle, the tears roll down my cheeks because I have 
 changed a sister s love and devotion into direst hate. 
 I will send Leita to visit you some, day, but I shall not 
 come with her. She is the dearest, sweetest wife in all 
 the world, yet you know I have never merited her love. 
 She often asks me why I am so sad Alas ! what can I 
 tell her? Do not risk writing again, Leita would have 
 read your letter; for she had broken the seal and was 
 about to take it from th ^ envelope when she was called 
 by some one. She never thought of it again. You 
 need not entertain any fears of any one seeing it now, 
 for I destroyed it as soon as I read it, as I hope you 
 will do with this. Mrs. Lament writes that you are 
 the most lovable creature in all the world. 1 know she 
 does all in her power to make you happy, and I love 
 her for it. My child, I shall not weary you with 
 longer writing. Holy angels guard and keep you. 
 "Your brother in deepest sympathy, 
 
 "CECIL." 
 
 Myitle after reading the letter leaned her head in her 
 hands and sobbed as if her heart would break. What 
 made her cry? About what .would you have cried had 
 you been in Myrtle s place? No doubt she cried for 
 joy, that her present fears were groundless; and then 
 she thought of the days of Auld Lang Syne, when 
 she was a little girl and roamed over the meadows with 
 Cecil; how she had loved and trusted him in her child 
 ish innocency. And she thought and thought till her 
 tired brain sought relief in sleep. 
 
 She slept long and dreamed she was a little girl 
 again standing by the old lime sink catching fishes, 
 and Cecil was there by her side looking down upon her 
 with a brother s love. But suddenly she thought her 
 mother had come and was scolding her, so she jumped 
 with a start. But it was only the servant knocking on 
 the door calling her to sapper. Lenfred was waiting
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 169 
 
 at the foot of the stairs for her, and noticed her changed 
 expression. 
 
 "You have been sleeping, have you not, Miss Myrtle? 
 It must have done you good for you look brighter than 
 you have for days. 
 
 "Yes, I have had a nice nap, and I dreamed I was a 
 child again." 
 
 "To hear you talk, Miss Myrtle, one would think you 
 were getting quite aucient, but it certainly took more 
 than a nap to make you look so happy, and I think I 
 could guess what tis if you would give me permission." 
 
 But Lenfred was too much of a gentleman to see 
 Myrtle embarrassed, so he changed the topic of conver 
 sation. 
 
 He had quite a large practice, and was consequently 
 at home but little ; however, that little was the happi 
 est part of his life so much so, that he grew alarmed 
 at himself. Myrtle s attractions were more than he 
 could resist. While in her presence, he seemed in an 
 other world. He was afraid to be with her too much 
 because he might fall in love with her yes, might, too 
 bad poor man; and as for staying away, could any 
 one human have stayed away when the privilege was 
 his to be in her presence? When, in the dusk of the 
 evening, Lenfred would return home from his office 
 and ask Myrtle to sing it made no difference how tired 
 or worried he was he forgot all trouble when her 
 sweet, musical voice was raised, for then he lived in 
 the highest heaven. To hear her sing some songs, one 
 would think she had suffered everything a poor tor 
 tured mortal could endure ; for her soul seemed made 
 for sympathy. 
 
 Soon after this Myrtle was one day running down 
 stairs when from some cause her foot slipped and she 
 fell to the bottom of the steps, her whole weight falling
 
 170 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 on her arm. Lenfred and his mother heard the fall 
 and ran out in the hall to see what had happened. 
 Lenfred, my son, my son, it is Myrtle. Oh, dreadful, 
 dreadful, what shall we do?" 
 
 "Oh, my arm, my arm," cried Myrtle in agony, "I 
 believe it is broken," and then she swooned away. 
 Lenfred s calling now was put into practice. Doctor 
 like, he tore the dainty dress from Myrtle s arm. "I 
 will have to take her to her room, mother, and lifting 
 the young girl in his strong arms, as if she were a child, 
 he carried her upstairs to her room and gently placed 
 her on her bed. Putting his head to her breast he was 
 startled, but did not let his mother know his thoughts. 
 
 "Oh! I do not like the beating of her heart, it might 
 some day fail her if she ever becomes greatly excited. 
 Strange she should have never mentioned this trouble, 
 yet I doubt if she knows it herself;" then he turned his 
 attention to Myrtle s arm, and examined it carefully. 
 
 "Thank God, mother, it is only a sprain; it will be 
 all right soon. and then he thought of how embar 
 rassed she would be should she find him in her room 
 with her arm, and neck bare. She is coming to, 
 mother;" whereupon Lenfred immediately pulled the 
 counterpane over her fair arms and lily-white neck, and 
 as he did so he could not help noticing a tiny chain to 
 which was attached an exquisite diamond ring that 
 rested near Myrtle s heart. He stood a moment as if 
 turned to stone he dared not look again, and turning 
 left the room.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 171 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 "To the nuptial bower I led her, blushing like the morn." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 RAYMOND had visited Baltimore to ask Mr. and Mrs. 
 DeLong for the hand of their daughter Edith. Consent 
 was given to the marriage and Raymond was often 
 seen in the Monumental City. Mr. and Mrs. DeLong 
 soon became proud of their prospective son, feeling in 
 him they were gaining a treasure. As the family was 
 so prominent in social circles, they felt that the wed 
 ding should be public, although Edith preferred it 
 should be private. The society element of the old con 
 servative city looked forward to the coming event as 
 one of great brilliancy. 
 
 The eventful day was fast approaching. Everything 
 in Edith s home was hurry and confusion; the house 
 was covered from one end to the other with patterns, 
 cloth, laces, embroidery, shoes, hats, handkerchiefs, and 
 everything connected with a trousseau, and the once 
 orderly mansion had come without any one knowing 
 how to look as if a cyclone had suddenly passed through 
 it. Out of so much disorder could order be brought 
 about in so short a time? Yes, for where is the dress 
 maker or milliner who will not stop everything she is 
 doing to work for a bride elect? Furthermore, all love 
 to do for a bride. 
 
 Every stitch the mantuamaker takes is with a smile ; 
 the dull days she sews that bread might be had seem 
 at this time to be forgotten, and merriment ami joy are.
 
 172 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 found even in the dismal workroom ; for many of these 
 women who sew were once themselves happy brides, 
 and beautiful, too; but ah, sunshine does not always 
 last! Sad, pitiable fate that sometimes awaits the 
 blushing bride ! 
 
 Three days before the wedding the florist began 
 decorating the mansion. Large palms, cedars, ever 
 greens, and flowers were brought in great profusion, 
 and arranged in such picturesque and rustic designs 
 that one could almost mistake the mansion for the cool 
 retreat of woodland nymphs; fountains of perfume 
 sparkled and danced, and made low, murmuring music 
 as its rainbow spray fell in pearly dewdrops or gurgled 
 among half-hidden violets on mossy fern beds ere its 
 sweet scented waters came again to kiss the tiny white 
 pebbles that glistened beneath its crystal bed. The 
 spacious halls and large double parlors were thrown 
 together, so as to form one grand reception room, 
 divided only by banks of moss-covered stones that were 
 partly hid by trailing vines and waving grasses. 
 Mounds entirely concealed by luxuriant tropical plants 
 made quaint nooks for whispering lovers, who ever de 
 light to breathe their vows anew to maidens fair. In 
 the center of the spacious parlor was a sylvan bower, 
 intertwined with smilax, maiden-hair fern, and peep 
 ing here and there were sweet-scented orange blossoms, 
 tiny snowdrops, single white hyacinths and lilies of 
 the valley. Under this bower of flowers was suspended 
 an umbrella designed of white roses lined with pink 
 petals, on top of which sat two snow-white doves. There 
 was erected in the yard a huge awning extending from 
 the front door to the carriage stile, and a handsome 
 brussels carpet was thrown upon the ground beneath 
 the improvised covering. While these things were 
 leiug made ready tUo confectioner was in the elegant
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 173 
 
 dining room arranging his tables that would please the 
 most fastidious epicure; and to further beautify this 
 department, Mrs. DeLong had brought forth her finest 
 cut glasses, daintiest hand-painted china, and her most 
 elegant silverware, and placed them in the hands of the 
 professional designer. 
 
 As the wedding day drew nigh, presents began to 
 come from all parts of America, many from Europe, 
 and some even from the far Orient. The gifts were as 
 varied as they were elegant handmade Irish laces of 
 finest texture, Indian shawls, Persian rugs, Cologne per 
 fumes, Venetian bronzes, Florentine paintings, Grecian 
 statues, French china, silverware of every description 
 from the gold and silver tea-service to the tiny salt 
 spoons. The jewels consisted of diamonds, pearls, 
 rubies, sapphires, emeralds, cameos, and all wrought 
 in such exquisite designs that even the most fastidious 
 maiden would have pronounced them surpassingly 
 beautiful. The presents continued to come until there 
 was no place left to store them. 
 
 Happy Edith saw everything in a kind of dream; 
 she was conscious of nothing save that everything was 
 surpassingly lovely. The evening before the wedding 
 Raymond, accompanied by the attendants, came to prac 
 tice the wedding march. "Oh, what delight," thought 
 Edith, "to see him. I feel 1 cannot be happy unless I 
 am in his presence every moment of the day ; yet it is 
 too bad I have to meet him in all this crowd ;" but, lover 
 like, Raymond soon found a hidden retreat beyond the 
 gaze of watchful eyes. 
 
 "Edith, darling, let me have a kiss from your ruby 
 lips, quick, before some of those boys find where we are. 
 Oh, precious, you cannot imagine how happy I am 
 when I remember that in a few short hours you will be 
 my own little bride. It seems I cannot wait for the
 
 174 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 time to come by the bye, that reminds me I doubt if 
 father can be at our marriage, as urgent business has 
 taken him to New York. Fearing his inability to at 
 tend our wedding, he has written us a sweet, loving, 
 fatherly letter, and also sent you a beautiful diamond 
 bracelet. I wrote to father expressing my regrets at 
 his nt coming; I also sent him your picture, for as we 
 leave for California immediately after our marriage, 
 and shall be gone for some time, I thought father would 
 be impatient to see your likeness, so I thought I would 
 try to spare the picture you had taken for me a few 
 w r eeks ago, as I shall so soon possess the beautiful orig 
 inal. Why, Edith, darling, crying ! on the eve of your 
 wedding day surely you love me, precious, my only 
 love? Are you disappointed in me? Do you fear to go 
 with Raymond through life? At the last moment, do 
 you regret the step you are about to take? Oh, Edith, 
 Edith, my darling, my all, do you doubt my love? 
 Speak, my angel, ere my poor heart breaks because of 
 your tears." 
 
 He clasped the sobbing girl to his throbbing breast, 
 and showered fond kisses upon her fair young forehead. 
 
 "No, Raymond, I do not doubt your devotion for me, 
 and you know I love you even to madness ; yet a dread 
 ful fear has suddenly taken possession of me. I do not 
 believe we are going to marry, for something as plain as 
 words seems to whisper to me, "You will never be 
 Raymond s wife!" 
 
 "Why, Edith, my darling, how can you think thus? 
 In a few short hours you will be mine forever. I also 
 once thought to possess you was too good to be true, 
 but, darling, God be praised, that day is passed my 
 highest hopes are about to be realized, and I would now 
 be the happiest man alive if it were not for my darl 
 ing s tears, for how can I be joyous when I see niy
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 175 
 
 precious in sorrow. Cheer up, my love, if any one 
 were to see you weeping, he would declare you had 
 at the last moment found me a brute." 
 
 "The idea of any one thinking evil of you, Ray 
 mond ; if so, he had better keep his thoughts to him* 
 self," and Edith laughed through her tears. "I am 
 ashamed of myself for crying, yet I could not help 
 weeping, and as a woman s tears always seem to make 
 her feel better, I hope my fears will now leave me. 
 Strange I so naturally bring to you my sorrows as well 
 as my joys I have begun quite early, have I not?" 
 
 "No, my darling, I appreciate your confidence, and 
 whether you be in sadness or gladness I hope you will 
 ever come to me, for my arms are ever open to receive 
 you, love, my heart full of devotion; a love that can 
 never be quenched as long as I have your sweet face to 
 feed upon. The dark violet eyes, so much like her 
 mother s in fact Edith was Mrs. Waldo s image met 
 the earnest gaze of Raymond "Edith, you look to-day 
 as you did when I first saw you at the little graveyard 
 scattering flowers o er that low mound." 
 
 "I was quite young then, and must have appeared 
 very sad, for I remember feeling so sorry for that poor 
 woman. What was her name? I have always wished 
 to know more of her history, but when I would ques 
 tion mother she would evade answering me, and imme 
 diately turn the conversation to other topics. There 
 must have been some mystery about the poor woman 
 that mother thought best to be kept from a child, "but 
 now that I am soon to be married I suppose I am old 
 enough to be intrusted \vith a secret, although my par 
 ents seem to look upon me as a little girl for they pet 
 me now just as they did when I was a baby. It was 
 only yesterday mother and father said, with tears in 
 their eyes My little girl, what will home be without
 
 176 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 our sweet Edith? I did not think I would ever lovo 
 any man so devotedly as that he could persuade me to 
 leave mother and father; yet here I am loving you 
 more than I do my own precious parents. Oh, Ray 
 mond, I am really ashamed of myself," and the beauti 
 ful girl pouted her cherry lips and glanced up with a 
 saucy twinkle in her deep-blue eyes. How often Edith 
 as a baby had worn that same winning expression, the 
 same look which had made her own father catch her up 
 tenderly in his loving arms, kissing many times the 
 rosy dimpled cheeks calling her his "little mischief." 
 
 "Edith, my darling, your shame is my glory God 
 grant your love for me may ever continue pure and 
 sweet as it now is; but, angel, w r hat makes you look so 
 beautiful? I always thought you pretty, yet you are sur 
 passingly beautiful at this moment you need not blush, 
 you know I speak the truth. Listen, there is the wedding 
 march we are wanted stop, darling, you are my pris 
 oner until I get a sweet k " But no, some one 
 had already come to call them. 
 
 "I say, Edith," said Genevieve, "you and Raymond 
 are the biggest Oh ! what must I call you? Do you 
 not know you will soon be married, that is if you can 
 ever stop kissing long enough for the preacher to per 
 form the ceremony, and then you can make love to 
 your hearts content? But I doubt if you will ever 
 make a fuss over each other then ; it will be a pity to 
 think you. exhausted all the love before your wedding 
 day. All this foolishness beforehand is why folks do 
 not love after " 
 
 "Oh, Gen, please do not fuss with me now, you do 
 not seem to respect my position," and Edith wound her 
 arms tenderly about her companion s waist. 
 
 "Don t be caressing me, when you have some re- 
 spoct for yourself, you may then instil it in others."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 177 
 
 The old city clock had tolled midnight ere the march 
 had been practiced to perfection, for there was more 
 merrymaking than marching done. The joyous bridal 
 party had now repaired to their respective rooms, after 
 which a momentary lull seemed to settle over the old 
 mansion, and the stars came out one by one to keep 
 silent watch over the fair betrothed as she dreamed of 
 the happy morrow, when she would be Raymond s 
 bonnie bride. 
 
 Early next morning the wedding day! the usual 
 confusion on such eventful occasions reigned supreme. 
 The confectioner and florist were rivaling each other in 
 their efforts to display only the beautiful for this joyous 
 wedding, and as the day advanced many things had to 
 be completed that could not receive the finishing 
 touches until the last moment. Grandfather s clock 
 Deemed to tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock faster than its 
 usual wont as if to hasten the happy nuptial hour. 
 
 Edith had begun dressing, yet became very nerv 
 ous when she thought of the many eyes that would so 
 soon be riveted upon her. "Yet, I can stand the gaze 
 of my guests and endure even greater discomfiture for 
 his sake yes, for the love I bear him I would face a 
 multitude. 
 
 At this moment there was a gentle tap on Edith s 
 door, and the maid handed her a small package accom 
 panied by a note from the groom. Edith hastily tore 
 open the envelope a missive at this hour from any 
 one besides her lover might have waited. 
 
 "MY OWN DARLING EDITH: I send you a necklace 
 of pearls, which seems in keeping with your own sweet 
 purity and loveliness of being. I intended giving you 
 this little memento of my love last night, but in your 
 presence, darling, I forgot everything, except your own
 
 178 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 sweet self. I desire, love, if perfectly agreeable to 
 your wishes, that my beautiful betrothed wear my gift 
 to the marriage altar until then God keep my precious 
 Edith. 
 4 Your own till death RAYMOND. 
 
 Edith kissed the note fondly and took the jeweled 
 necklace and put it about her snowy neck. Surely if 
 Raymond could have seen the beauty of that swan, 
 white throat, he would not have had it hid even with 
 his lovely gift. "Oh, I know he is the dearest, sweet 
 est boy in all the world and everything he does is right, 
 yet I almost wish he had not given me pearls, for I 
 have heard it was bad luck to give a bride pearls. But 
 it is too late now, and how Raymond would laugh at 
 my superstition, so I shall never tell him my fears for 
 he might possibly think I did not appreciate his pres 
 ent, and I hold dearer a feather given by him than I 
 would value a diamond given by any other man. I 
 must hasten my wedding toilet, for I think I hear the 
 musicians tuning their instruments. Oh, in a few 
 short minutes I shall be his own little bride. I know 
 I shall be the happiest girl in all the world ah, Ray 
 mond, Raymond, I love you to madness; without you 
 I could not exist. 
 
 And the fair face beamed with joyous anticipations 
 of the happiness in store for her. 
 
 The beautiful wedding gown was donned with the 
 assistance of mother and Genevieve how lovely the 
 fair bride looked in her snowy silk and long flowing 
 white veil caught with lilies of the valley Edith s 
 favorite flower. The guests were beginning to arrive, 
 and Edith could hear the low buzz, as the sound of 
 many voices floated down the long hall to her room 
 door, a few moments later came the attendants, dressed
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 179 
 
 in fairy-like costumes, followed by the little flower 
 girls, who in their loveliness looked like angels flutter 
 ing about the old mansion. Last of all came the white 
 headed clergyman, the dear old man of God, who sat 
 apart from the guests with his eyes intently fixed upon 
 the floor. "Ah, will life end as happily for this young 
 couple as it has begun? Who can tell what sorrow 
 awaits them beyond the sacred union of their hearts," 
 and the good man heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 Raymond had now arrived, and Edith had sent for 
 him, and when the handsome groom was alone with 
 his beautiful bride, he fell at her feet : "My darling, am 
 I indeed looking at my Edith? An angel of light you 
 are, w r ith your shining golden hair and soft blue eyes. 
 Oh, Edith, Edith, I am not half worthy of you, my 
 darling. But rather are you suited to be crowned the 
 Goddess of Love and Beauty." 
 
 "No, no, dear Raymond, I would prefer being your 
 own little bride. What greater happiness on earth 
 could I desire than to be your wife? Raymond caught 
 his betrothed s hands and kissed them fervently. 
 "God bless you ever, my darling, for those sweet 
 words, may I never give you cause to retract what you 
 have just said ; and God grant our love for each other 
 may deepen as the years roll by. 
 
 The beautiful bride on beholding her handsome lover 
 kneeling at her feet was greatly moved ; regardless of 
 her fleecy veil and spotless gown, she knelt softly by 
 the side of her intended. 
 
 "Raymond I would not have you kneel to me, but 
 instead let us both kneel to our Father in heaven. 
 Pray God s blessings upon us, dear Raymond, for I 
 feel in this the happiest hour of my life I wish His 
 presence very near to us. And that fair young bride 
 in all her womanly loveliness and that manly groom
 
 180 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 holding the tiny gloved hand of his betrothed ; his dark 
 hair, and eyes deeper than night, knelt together, mak 
 ing a picture so sweet that even the seraphs in heaven 
 would fain have ceased their celestial songs to have 
 bent a listening ear to Raymond s prayer that floated 
 like sweet incense to the throne of God, as in his deep, 
 melodious voice he petitioned the great Jehovah : 
 
 "Heavenly Father, we have come to Thy throne of 
 love with our joys, and for this the happiest day of 
 our existence we thank Thee. We bless and give 
 Thee praise. Father, although to-day is bright, wo 
 know not what shadows in the future await us ; and 
 we beseech Thee now, merciful Father, that when dark 
 clouds pass over our sunny pathway, we may look to 
 Thee in our hours of deepest distress, lean upon Thee, 
 knowing Thou doest all things well. And oh, heavenly 
 Father, if trouble must come, grant, I beseech Thee, 
 that I bear the anguish, and let not my beloved be 
 trothed know pain or sorrow; but, if it be Thy will, 
 cast all burdens on me, for I am strong while she is 
 but a fair, frail flower that blooms only to give joy and 
 sunshine to all about her. And now, O Father, take 
 us and guide us in life with all of its many mysterious 
 changes, and at last lead us gently to Thy peaceful 
 home of love where there is peace, joy, gladness and 
 love through Jesus Christ, our precious Saviour for 
 ever and ever Amen." 
 
 As Raymond arose, he gently lifted his bride and 
 clasped her fondly to his throbbing breast. "My darl 
 ing, you can never know how precious you have become 
 to me. Hark, I hear the clock striking our bridal 
 hour. In a few short moments you will be my own sweet 
 wife let me kiss you once again, my darling. In days 
 to come you will love to think on these happy golden 
 seconds." He stooped and kissed fervently his blush-
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 181 
 
 ing bride. "God Moss you, my angel," and Raymond 
 led Edith in the hall where the attendants awaited the 
 lovely bride and handsome groom. 
 
 So soon as the sweot tones of the wedding march 
 were heard by the man of God, he began to walk with 
 solemn step toward the beautiful floral arbor where he 
 was met by the attendants, who were followed by little 
 flower girls scattering sweet rose petals between Ray 
 mond and Edith. It was a curious sight never seen 
 before bride and groom coming in alone and separated 
 from each other by angel-like forms, who glided over 
 flowers strewn by childhood s sweet fingers, while the 
 perfumed fountains filled the air with their sweet- 
 scented spray, and the tall candelabra s waxen tapers 
 throwing a mellow glow o er that fairy-like scene. 
 Edith drew near to Raymond and placed her arm in 
 his with childlike trust and confidence, and as she 
 stood with holy reverence before the man of God to be 
 made tne wife of Raymond Felix, her face became radi 
 ant with expectant joy and happiness, and it was whis 
 pered, "Oh, how like an angel; was ever an earthly 
 being so surpassingly beautiful?" Then followed a 
 subdued hush ere was heard in solemn tones the man 
 of God: 
 
 "In the beautiful garden of Eden " 
 
 "Stop, stop!" , 
 "Were first united loving " 
 
 "Stop, stop!" 
 
 A death-like silence ensued, save the excited cry of 
 one individual 
 
 "Stop, stop!" 
 
 What could it mean? "Stop, stop, it cannot be," 
 and there rushed in the midst of all this fair wedding 
 scone a man whom all mistook for a maniac, for he ran 
 to the bride and staring eagerly in her face fell back
 
 182 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 crying incoherently: "It is only too true; it cannot be; 
 it is she; it is Viola s child; the same dark-blue eyes 
 the same golden hair as her mother ! Ah, war, war, 
 may thy dark, cruel cloud never again gather over our 
 fair land. Was it not enough to kill the father and 
 make the mother die of a broken heart? No, no, but 
 we must now have the horrible wrecking of brother 
 and sister Stop! stop, in God s holy name, stop, stop!" 
 and the poor old man fell back exhausted in a chair 
 refusing to be comforted in his great grief.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. Ibo 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 " Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eyes, 
 In every gesture dignity and love." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 THKEE years have passed since we last saw Ulhugh. 
 The sturdy youth has grown into noble, sober manhood, 
 and having been thrown during the years of his college 
 life into the society of the most polished ladies and gen 
 tlemen in the city of R , he had become easy and 
 
 elegant in his bearing. He had taken the highest 
 honors in his class, and at the same time had borne 
 away something far better the love and respect of 
 schoolmates and teachers, together with the great esteem 
 of many persons living in the city, not to mention the 
 girls that were dead in love with him, who numbered 
 more than a score. Do not think Ulhugh gave to 
 young ladies any special reason for their devotions. 
 He was ever polite to all the fair sex, but some girls 
 are similar to some boys in that they love even when 
 their affections are unreciprocated. Ulhugh never 
 thought of loving but one girl Myrtle was his first 
 and only affection, his ideal love, and how he longed 
 once more to see her pure, sweet face, and gaze into 
 those soft, tender, wondrously sad dark eyes of hers 
 that seemed to speak to his innermost soul. 
 
 "Has she forgotten me? What has she done with 
 my ring? Ah, more than all, has she fallen in love 
 with any man since I saw her?" And at this thought 
 the poor boy s heart seemed to sink in his bosom with 
 a deep, heavy thud.
 
 184 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "I must see her, and tell her of my devotion to her, 
 which has increased as the days, months, and years 
 have dragged slowly by. "Did ever man love a 
 woman as I do her? No, for there never lived another 
 woman just like her to love. She has been to me a 
 guiding star beckoning me to better and nobler 
 deeds in life. For her sake I would gladly climb the 
 topmost ladder of fame, that I might be the more 
 worthy of her. I will return to Florida, and pour out 
 all my heart to her. I must know my fate; I cannot 
 logger live in suspense." 
 
 While Ulhugh was pondering over his future fate, 
 where was Myrtle? She was still in New York, and it 
 was commencement night at her school. The sweet 
 girl was adorned in a simple, spotless white mull, and 
 her dark, glowing eyes had a far-away look in them. 
 Was she happy as were her companions? No. for they 
 had expressed their joy at the near close of school, and 
 had slammed their books down on their desks dancing 
 for joy. "No more old school; we will soon be at home 
 with dear mother and father home, sweet home yes, 
 be it ever so humble, there is no place like home the 
 dearest spot in all the world." 
 
 But never had any one heard Myrtle say she wished 
 to return home, and that is why the young girl looked 
 so sad to-night. She knew on to-morrow she would 
 have to leave for a place that was home only in name. 
 Furthermore, she had to sing in a few moments, and 
 always extremely modest, her heart beat quick and 
 fast. 
 
 "How can I stand alone and face this vast audience?" 
 
 When at last the president called her name, she was 
 .welcomed with a round of applause. Idma bowed 
 v-. ith queenly diguity, still no joy was shown in her 
 coimterance for the great esteem of the outside world.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 185 
 
 Her sad face was as white as her dress, and her dark 
 hair appeared even more dark as it lay in thick coils 
 above her snowy neck. As Idma stood : 
 
 " Ne er did Grecian chisel trace 
 A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 
 Of finer form, or lovelier face." 
 
 Her lustrous eyes seemed almost divine, and persons 
 in the audience as they gazed upon her whispered: 
 "What heavenly beauty!" Idma, waiting for her 
 teacher to play the prelude to her accompaniment, acci 
 dentally heard a gentleman remark to his friend She 
 is the most beautiful creature I ever saw on earth, and 
 I know she is as lovely in character as she is fair. " 
 Myrtle heard no more, but the words she caught were 
 sufficient to make her pale cheeks turn scarlet. 
 
 "Will the past never forsake me?" and with a will 
 power that was almost superhuman, Idma hurled her 
 thoughts back into the inner recesses of her sad breast. 
 A few minutes later, she began singing a song that 
 seemed in unison with her own troubled soul : 
 
 " Tis the last rose of summer, 
 Left blooming alone; 
 All her lovely companions 
 Are faded and gone; 
 No flower of her kindred, 
 No rose bud is nigh, 
 To reflect back her blushes, 
 Or give sigh for sigh. 
 
 " I ll not leave thee, thou lone one, 
 To pine on the stem; 
 Since the lovely are sleeping, 
 Go sleep thou with them. 
 Thus kindly I scatter, 
 Thy leaves o er the bed, 
 Where thy mates of the garden 
 Lie scentless and dead."
 
 186 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 From the first note of Myrtle s clear, melodious voice 
 every sound in that great hall became hushed on, on 
 the young girl sang, forgetting the sea of faces turned 
 toward her ; living only in her song and thinking she 
 was a child again roaming in the woods beside the old 
 lime sink singing her sad lament to the birds and 
 fishes. Was this a human being that gave forth such 
 rapturous sounds? Men and women rose unconsciously 
 to their feet and gazed upon the beautiful woman before 
 them with wonder and awe, for she had stirred chords 
 in their souls that had long since slept dormant, but 
 now were suddenly revibrating on hearing music that 
 seemed to come from the far-away home of the blessed. 
 Each and every one leaned forward in order not to lose 
 a single note. 
 
 " So soon may I follow, 
 
 When friendships decay, 
 
 And from love s shining circle 
 
 The gems drop away. 
 
 When true hearts lie withered, 
 
 And fond ones are flown, 
 
 Oh! who would inhabit 
 
 This bleak world alone! 
 
 The spell deepened as the song continued ; every per 
 son in the house ceased to breathe and remained in 
 breathless suspense ere the last words of the wondrous 
 melody died away and was heard no more. After the 
 lovely songstress took her seat on the rostrum there 
 ensued an awful pause men and women wept and 
 sobbed in perfect obliviousness of their joyous sur 
 roundings then becoming suddenly cognizant of their 
 whereabouts, the painful silence was broken by one 
 continuous applause in order to make their fair singer 
 come again in song before the footlights. But all was 
 useless, the lovely Idma could not be prevailed to
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 187 
 
 sing again with queenly dignity that spoke louder 
 than words she bowed herself from the stage. 
 
 "Ah, how little they imagine my heart would break 
 were I to sing another note to-night. Oh, the horrible 
 pains that shot through my heart." 
 
 A few minutes later, Idma received a star medal 
 the highest reward that had ever been given in her 
 school. 
 
 After the exercises were over nearly every man and 
 woman pressed forward to get an introduction to this 
 Southern genius and divine beauty, who was now sur 
 rounded in a bed of floral offerings sent by numerous 
 friends throughout the city. Myrtle s hand rested upon 
 a floral harp presented by Lenfred. She received the 
 many compliments showered upon her with a subdued 
 grace, which made one young man whisper to some 
 chum near by: "If I could get a smile from her, I 
 would be willing to work a year, but where is the man 
 she would turn to look on? Boys, we had better stay 
 clear she is too grand for us ; she is the only woman I 
 ever saw 7 that I thought would make a suitable queen. 
 She had better never go to Europe, people would make 
 her queen as sure as life." 
 
 As soon as Myrtle had an opportunity of speaking to 
 Lenfred, she requested him to please take her home. 
 "Why, surely not yet, Miss Myrtle, scores of persons 
 are waiting to be introduced to you." 
 
 " If you wish to make me happy, Mr. Lamont, please 
 grant my request. 
 
 "But you cannot get out the door, Miss Myrtle, 
 every one will crowd about you." 
 
 "Yes, follow me, we shall leave through the side 
 entrance. 
 
 Lenfred, ever willing to do Myrtle s bidding, at once 
 obeyed her command. How proud he was to think he
 
 188 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 had the privilege of escorting her home ; how happy he 
 was to think in a few short weeks he could ask her to 
 be his bride. "My bride? what presumption! Will 
 she ever love me? True she has been kind to me. But 
 this is in keeping with her sweet nature, for ever} 
 menial gets as much kindness from her as the finest 
 lady. 
 
 As Lenfred rode home with his fair charge that 
 night, ho was somewhat puzzled. "Miss Myrtle, you 
 are so different from all other women I have met; for all 
 my acquaintances among the ladies esteem the admira 
 tion of the world, while you seem perfectly indifferent, 
 and even worried at the demonstration and applause of 
 mankind, although I am sure no one is more worthy of 
 honor than yourself. 
 
 As Lenfred and Myrtle continued to talk, the moon 
 beams stole into the carriage and playfully kissed 
 Myrtle s tiny white hands, which intrusion seemed to 
 madden Lenfred, and made him feel that he would give 
 the world if at that moment he might enfold the lovely 
 girl to his throbbing breast and pour out the deep love of 
 his soul. "Oh, if I could tell her of my love, or even 
 for one second hold her hand in mine ; yet I had rather 
 have my arm severed from my body than to do such a 
 thing, for I know no man has ever stepped over the 
 bounds of passing courtesy with Myrtle Dean. She is 
 a woman with whom men never think of flirting they 
 have only two thoughts when looking into her pure face 
 either she is too good for me, or can I by perfect liv 
 ing ever hope to win her as my wife." 
 
 When Myrtle returned to Mrs. Lament s that night 
 the good woman kissed and congratulated her fair pro- 
 te(/e, after which the young- girl ran to her room and 
 falling upon her bed wept as if her heart would break. 
 Another girl would have danced for joy on receiving a
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 189 
 
 star medal. But such was not true in poor Myrtle s 
 case "what do I care for all this show my mother s 
 love would be more precious to me than all the honor 
 of the outside world. Must I indeed return home to 
 morrow? and shall I he obliged to be thrown with Cecil 
 once more? Oh, what if his old love for me should re 
 turn? Yet where else can I go? Home, yes home no 
 there is no home on earth for Idma Dean," and the 
 poor girl buried her head in her pillow and sobbed her 
 self to sleep in her commencement robe. 
 
 It was late in the morning when Myrtle awoke. 
 
 That same day she returned home. It was with 
 deepest regret Mrs. Lament parted from her young 
 charge. Myrtle kissed her hostess fondly many times. 
 
 "Mrs. Lament, you can never know how much I ap 
 preciate your kindness. I never forget a favor shown 
 me, yet what can I ever do that would in any degree 
 prove my love and gratitude to you?" 
 
 "My sweet child, hush the pleasure of your stay at 
 my home has all been reserved for me, and I would 
 gladly keep you always. Myrtle, how I envy your 
 mother. To have you for my own daughter, child, I 
 would ask no greater blessing. 
 
 Lenfred was standing near, and when Myrtle met his 
 earnest gaze her face suddenly crimsoned. Mrs. La- 
 mont, on seeing the sweet girl s cheeks flush, became 
 aware of making a mistake, although she -knew she 
 would have said the same words had she never known 
 a son s love. The good woman felt, however, to excuse 
 her thoughtlessness would make things worse, hence 
 she only kissed Myrtle more affectionately as she bade 
 her a tearful good-by. 
 
 A moment Inter Lenfred and Myrtle were in a 
 carriage on their v, ay to the depot; neither seemed 
 inclined to speak, for Myrtle was sad and Lenfred s
 
 190 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 soul was too full of ardent love for idle, common 
 place words. As the noble-hearted man helped 
 the lovely girl from the carriage, did he hold her tiny 
 hand a second longer and press it with more warmth 
 than usual? Did he? 
 
 So excited had Lenfred become, he was thoroughly 
 unconscious of strangers passing by and smiling per 
 haps if they had been questioned, they would have re 
 plied: "That man is certainly madly in love with that 
 girl ; but who could censure him for it? Her beauty is 
 certainly enough to craze any person." 
 
 "Miss Myrtle," and Leuf red s voice grew tremulous, 
 "I am sorry to have you leave us; you certainly 
 brought joy and happiness to our home, and I hope it 
 will not be long before you return to make mother a 
 visit. You must not forget our home is ever open to 
 the sv/eet Southern singer, yes, you will always have 
 true and hearty welcome at our home. 
 
 It was not what Lenfred said but what his deep blue 
 eyes and his tender accent bespoke, that made Myrtle 
 cast her long, dark eyelids down, for she knew his 
 searching gaze was riveted upon her face. Love is 
 often felt even when no words of affection have been 
 spoken. 
 
 "Good-by, Miss Myrtle, in a few short weeks I shall 
 bring mother to Florida, and we shall both see you 
 again, and then I 
 
 "Please get off the train, Mr. Lament, I will listen 
 to nothing now, I am so afraid you will get hurt do 
 you not see how fast the cars are moving?" 
 
 Lenfred intended saying: "I wish you to decide, Miss 
 Myrtle, my happiness or misery in life." Myrtle felt 
 by Lenfred s deep, low tone that lie expected to speak 
 to her words of great moment to himself, and as she 
 did not love him, only hold ing him in the highest
 
 THE IDES OF MAkCH. 191 
 
 esteem, she wished to retain his friendship. She 
 knew if he once made love to her/ and she rejected him, 
 ever afterward there would be a certain estrangement 
 between them. Oh, how glad she was when the train 
 commenced to roll a\vay from the depot, which gave 
 her an excuse for uttering the words she had spoken to 
 Lenfred. As the train rounded a curve near the depot 
 Myrtle saw Lenfred standing alone looking down upon 
 the pavement with dejected expression upon his sad 
 face. 
 
 "Ah, me, so gentle, so kind, but no love no love yet 
 God grant I am mistaken in my views. There must 
 be some hope oh, fair woman, why did I ever meet 
 you? Know you not that you hold the destiny of my 
 life in your tiny white hands? For all my love, will 
 you say me nay? " and then Lenfred turned and 
 walked with a sad heart homeward, wondering if it 
 were possible to persuade this lovely songstress of the 
 fair South to warble her sweet bird notes far away from 
 her br ght sunny clime.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " Shall I not take ray ease in mine inn ?" 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 ON Myrtle s return home Mrs. Dean did not so much 
 as look up as her daughter kissed her. No smile of 
 joy, no kind welcome, no demonstrations of love did 
 she give her daughter, but instead the mother looked 
 with coldness upon her as she said: "I suppose you 
 think you are grown, now that you have come back 
 here with all of your New York airs, but I tell you in 
 the beginning you are in my eyes the same as when 
 you left, and you know that is not much. I am sorry 
 you have come back. I wish you had stayed off for 
 ever, for I am sure I do not want to see you ; but I will 
 dismiss some of my servants and let you do their work, 
 and in this way maybe I can get some good out of you. 
 I am determined that you shall never have any pleasure 
 in my house so long as you live. I wish that you w r ere 
 dead, but people of whom you wish to rid yourself 
 never do die." 
 
 Poor Myrtle did not say a word but tried hard to 
 keep back the tears. 
 
 "And is this the welcome a daughter receives from 
 her mother after having been separated for j ears?" 
 
 Leita coming up at this moment, kissed her sister 
 affectionately: "Myrtle, I am very glad you have come 
 home; maybe you can cheer my poor husband. He 
 has been sick a long time, and for the past two 
 weeks he has been a great deal worse. Go and see
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 193 
 
 him ; I will come in a few minutes as soon as I can 
 boil him some milk." 
 
 Myrtle knew she would have to meet Cecil, so 
 thought she had as well get through with the dreadful 
 ordeal. Going to Cecil s door, she knocked gently. 
 
 "Come in." 
 
 It was the same voice, only more feeble, that she had 
 loved so well as a child. With beating heart she 
 turned the knob and stood just within the doorway; 
 what did she see? A form with pale face, sunken 
 cheeks, and hollow eyes. Was this Cecil the handsome 
 Cecil Clair, whom she had known some few years ago? 
 It was evident that he had suffered, but had he suffered 
 as much as she? Both looked at each other; each 
 waited for the other to speak, yet neither said a word. 
 The silence had grown painful, and Myrtle cast her 
 gaze downward with a saddened, troubled expression 
 on her pure face. Cecil observing her embarrassment 
 tried to relieve the awkwardness of the moment: 
 "Myrtle, my child, you have a welcome home. I am 
 sorry I could not meet you at the depot, yet I hope it is 
 all for the best. I suppose you would rather see me in 
 this condition than any other, unless as a corpse ; but 
 come nearer, my child, my voice is too weak to speak at 
 such a distance. You need not be afraid of me now, 
 for I am only a shadow of my former self." 
 
 Myrtle did as she was requested, and came near 
 the large invalid chair in which her brother was seated. 
 
 "Myrtle," he continued, "I do not ask you to kiss 
 me ; I do not ask you to shake hands with me, but I do 
 ask you to speak to me. For three long years I have 
 not heard your voice, speak to me, my child. Carry 
 me back once more to those happy days when you were 
 a little girl." 
 
 "I do not know that I can do that, brother Cecil, but 
 I am indeed sorry to come home and find you sick."
 
 194 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "Your sympathy is in keeping with your childhood 
 days. Myrtle, I thank you, yet I am glad I am sick, 
 and when I " then he coughed violently ere he could 
 speak again. "Myrtle, you will be happy soon, my 
 child." 
 
 She did not ask him what he meant, for his pale face 
 told the sad story. The bitterness that had been in 
 Myrtle s heart all these years seemed to have given 
 place to pity as she gazed upon his emaciated form ; for 
 she knew he had changed. "You have come back at 
 last, Myrtle. I am very glad, for I thought I should 
 never see you again, but I thank God I can once more 
 gaze into your pure sweet face. I wished to see if you 
 had changed yes, you have, but not as much as I ; you 
 can yet be happy." 
 
 He seemed to be talking to himself in a delirious 
 way, and when he had finished he fell back exhausted 
 in his chair. 
 
 Let me call sister Leita ! possibly she can give you 
 something to ease you?" 
 
 "No, no, I will be all right in a few minutes don t 
 bother her. Poor woman, how faithful she has been 
 since I have been sick. God never gave better wife to 
 so undeserving a husband. She is almost broken down. 
 A lingering sickness is a dreadful thing. I do not 
 mind it so much for myself, but I dislike to see my 
 poor wife going day and night. I know it will break 
 her health, and she is so young and fair I would not 
 see her fade on my account." 
 
 She will not, Cecil, for I will help her nurse you. 
 I believe I am considered a good nurse." 
 
 Cecil did not answer Myrtle, his eyes were closed, 
 but she saw a tear steal from under his closed lids and 
 roll down his haggard face. Poor man, a kind word 
 from one he thought despised him had melted his
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 195 
 
 heart. "Will she indeed nurse me after I have given 
 her so much sorrow? Ah, she is the Myrtle I once 
 knew the same kind heart, same angelic Myrtle. She 
 sees at last that I have tried to live a better life, and 
 that I shall soon die of remorse. Although her sorrow 
 has been very great it has been nothing like mine, for 
 mine is slowly but surely taking me to my grave, while 
 she can yet live and be happy. 
 
 In the days and nights that followed Myrtle relieved 
 Leita a great deal by helping her nurse Cecil. Neither 
 she nor Cecil had spoken of the bygone days, and it 
 seemed buried forever in the past. Never was there a 
 word or look that each would not have been willing for 
 the world to have seen and heard. But, the thoughts 
 that came to each of them ! You can bury words and 
 actions, but who can bury thoughts? The very effort 
 you make to smother them only brings sad memories 
 more vividly to your mind. 
 
 It was with no little self control that Myrtle attended 
 Cecil. Her face was often sad as her mind reflected 
 upon other days, and she at times even grew angry 
 with herself. When Cecil would see this sadness, 
 which she strove so hard to hide, he would turn his 
 head and heave a deep sigh : "Poor child, although she is 
 good enough not to speak harshly yet I know she has 
 never forgotten that dreadful night, and she continually 
 heaps coals of fire upon my head. 
 
 "Myrtle," said Leita one day, "I am so glad you 
 have come home, for I wanted to take Cecil to Florida, 
 but was afraid as I had no one to help me nurse him. 
 Now that you have returned I know you will go with 
 me won t you? I know your mother does not care." 
 
 "Why, certainly I will go, sister Leita, especially if 
 I can be of any service to you." 
 
 Preparations were immediately made, and in a few
 
 190 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 weeks we find them all in Florida. Ulhugh had pre 
 ceded them, and was waiting with no little impatience 
 Myrtle s arrival ; and when he saw her he was happy 
 beyond measure. Now he could tell her of his love for 
 her, but he would wait for a good opportunity lest he 
 should shock her, or appear rude. 
 
 Although Myrtle loved no one living, she was always 
 happy when in Ulhugh s presence; she was glad when 
 he came and sorry when he left. His manliness and 
 trueness stamped him as no ordinary man. He was 
 the handsomest man she had ever met, but this had 
 very little or no weight with her. The best-looking 
 man in the would would have been as the ugliest if he 
 intended his personal appearance to carry him through 
 life. Ulhugh was now cultured, refined, exceedingly 
 entertaining, and his dark, flashing eyes were sufficient 
 to make any girl fall in love. 
 
 Day after day he met Myrtle, at the same time his 
 love becoming deeper and deeper till it had grown al 
 most to idolatry. Myrtle s indifference had changed to 
 interest; and from interest to friendship; and from 
 friendship to sisterly love, which was fine progress for 
 one like Myrtle Dean. 
 
 Cecil had improved greatly and was able to walk 
 about the yard, consequently Myrtle was freed from 
 nursing him and could do very much as she pleased. 
 
 "Miss Myrtle," said Ulhugh one day, "we are get 
 ting up a party to go to St. Augustine, and we would 
 be delighted to have you go if you care to." 
 
 "I know of nothing to prevent, Mr. Waldo, I am 
 sure I would like very much to go." 
 
 "Thank you. I know I will have a good time now 
 since you are going." 
 
 "I am not so certain that I can make you happy I 
 rarely do."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 197 
 
 "Don t you? Well, you do, even if you are uncon 
 scious of it." 
 
 Two days later, we find the party in St. Augustine 
 the oldest city in the United States. What a quaint 
 town it is, with the old fort and Spanish houses scat 
 tered here and there. A few minutes drive brought 
 Myrtle and Ulhugh in front of the far-famed Ponce de 
 Leon. 
 
 "Oh, Ulhugh," cried Myrtle, "I have often dreamed 
 of fairyland, but never thought I would see one in 
 reality ; to think it is the month of January, yet the 
 flowers are blooming and the birds singing just as they 
 would in the sweet May time ; and these quaint-looking 
 plants almost lead me to believe I am in the tropics." 
 
 Myrtle further noticed elegant ladies with flashing- 
 diamonds, dressed in white silk, and wearing white 
 satin or kid shoes, while handsome men sat near hold 
 ing white parasols over these fair creatures. 
 
 As Myrtle saw the beautiful flowers and heard the 
 crystal fountains splashing and making the little gold 
 fish dart here and there in their liquid beds, a spell 
 seemed to take possession of her, and she felt she would 
 fain live forever in this enchanted garden. 
 
 "Let us see the parlor, Miss Myrtle," and Ulhugh 
 led the way into this room of regal splendor ; for the 
 mantelpiece, with its clock, is itself a thing of beauty 
 which you may study for days without seeing all its 
 intricate carvings. The tread of feet is never heard as 
 you walk over the heavy plush carpets, and the divans, 
 tete-a-tete and everything about the apartment, even 
 to the pictures upon the walls, would have suggested to 
 the mind of a sultan an Eastern harem, for sweet idle 
 ness and ennui take possession of you, so that it is im 
 possible to shake off your dreaminess ; and as you sink 
 down on the low, soft lounge, you forget all care. Yes,
 
 198 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 as the soft, sweet music, the warbling notes of mock 
 ing birds, the murmur of crystal fountains, the per 
 fumed orange blossoms, come stealing in through tho 
 tapestry door, which is ever and anon blown aside by 
 sweet zephyrs, you just forget you are on earth, and 
 feel you are in the land where Fairies and Cupids dwell, 
 for you dream of love, think of love, and talk of love. 
 
 Hence do you wonder that Ulhugh should have whis 
 pered love to the "star-eyed" Idrna? Ulhugh and 
 Myrtle sat beneath a window facing a beautiful garden, 
 which they had not before this time observed, for the inn 
 appeared to be built in the midst of a somewhat circular 
 flower garden. Thus Ulhugh saw things that day ; 
 whether he was accurate he cared not. He only knew 
 he was in love, and hence looked at the world through 
 lover s lens. Into a retreat, hidden from the careless 
 gaze by heavy, flowing drapery and having a window 
 from which could be viewed a lovely garden, Myrtle 
 and Ulhugh sat thinking; or rather the beautiful girl 
 was dreaming, for as she watched the tiny humming 
 birds sipping sweets from every perfumed flower as 
 they darted here and there with a sleepy buzz, her eyes 
 had a far-away, heavenly look in them. 
 
 As Ulhugh gazed upon that sweet, calm face that 
 had a sadness written upon it which was beyond all de 
 scription, he wondered if he dare tell her of his love. 
 Oh, how he longed to pour out his soul to the one being 
 whom he had ever loved and trusted. Myrtle appeared 
 to have forgotten any one was near, for not one word 
 had she spoken for five minutes. Ulhugh continued 
 to watch her face, which was indeed a study, but failed 
 to fathom her thoughts, for the longer he looked upon 
 her the more puzzled he became. Being unable to 
 longer suppress his love, Ulhugh spoke with his manly, 
 characteristic bluntness.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 109 
 
 "Miss Myrtle, I wish to know if it is possible for 
 such a fair creature as yourself one who is pure 
 enough to dwell in heaven ever to love me?" 
 
 Myrtle looked startled, but Ulhugh continued: "I do 
 not wonder your dark, sad eyes gaze upon me in amaze 
 ment, for I know I cannot make love with poetic 
 words. Teach me, beautiful woman, what to say. 
 Long I have striven to keep my devotion buried, know 
 ing I was not half worthy of you. Hence for you 
 I wished to go to school, to equip myself for life s work. 
 For you I burned the midnight lamp, so that I might 
 be congenial with you in knowledge; for you I have 
 endeavored to make a man of myself, feeling that thus 
 only would I be in keeping with your own highborn 
 nature. I have loved you from the first day I gazed 
 upon you, and I asked you to keep that ring that you 
 might not forget me, for I was then a helpless lad, and 
 am now but a poor man; yet, I love you, Myrtle; and 
 if by striving I can ever hope to win you, I am willing 
 to labor for your happiness and comfort day and night. 
 I suppose I should have become well established in my 
 medical profession ere I told you of my love, but I 
 feared, while waiting, another bearing a greater name 
 might gain your heart, and take you for his own sweet 
 bride, and then would I ever have been left alone in 
 life. I know you think it presumption for me to talk 
 to you of my devotion when I have no wealth, but you 
 have heard of my history long since how all my 
 father s property was swept away during the war; yet, 
 Myrtle, I have great and boundless love; and, thank 
 God, I have also a pure and honest name to offer you; 
 and I hope also through sobriety and diligence to gain 
 in the course of time a lucrative practice. I feel as 
 sured it will tcJcj years to become well established in 
 my profession, yet in the meantime I expect to work
 
 200 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 constantly. Myrtle, in the years of toil awaiting me, 
 may I not have joy in the expectancy of one day. after I 
 have made a success of life, of your becoming my be 
 loved wife? 
 
 "Tell me my fate, Myrtle? Do not let me wait in 
 horrible suspense, for I know you are good and noble 
 and would not give ine pain ; although you look so 
 lovely, yet did I not believe your heart to be as pure as 
 your face is beautiful, I could not love you. 
 
 At these last words of Ulhugh s a quick flush spread 
 over Myrtle s face, and there was also a look of pain in 
 her countenance. 
 
 "Hush, hush, Ulhugh, say no more I beseech you; 
 no more of love, for I can never love any man. For 
 give me if I have by word or deed encouraged you in 
 the least degree, for if I did I was unconscious of so 
 doing. Knowing I could never love, my heart is so 
 frozen that it cannot be melted even by your pure, 
 warm love. Ulhugh, if I have deceived you and made 
 you think I am better than I really am, God forgive 
 me for thus sinning against you. Oh, Ulhugh, if I did 
 love you, I am not worthy of your pure and noble heart. 
 I know whereof I speak, for I have been thrown in 
 your company ever since we were children. You are 
 only a few months older that I, Ulhugh, yet I seem to 
 know far more of the world than you do hence, I say 
 it is best that you go and love another. Your brother 
 on his dying bed requested me to be a sister to you. I 
 can grant his petition, but once and forever, kind 
 friend, I can never give you any hope of becoming your 
 wife. Not that I now, or ever expect to, love another, 
 for I think more of you than any gentleman of my 
 acquaintance. Yet I feel it is best for you and best 
 for me that I remain forever Idina Dean." 
 
 ** Myrtle, may God bless you for saying you think
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 201 
 
 more of me than any of your gentleman friends, I 
 have so taken you by surprise and startled you by my 
 abrupt love making that I do not wonder at your in 
 different answer. I will wait patiently for one month 
 itnd then ask you again if there is any hope for me. 
 Oh, Myrtle, Myrtle, God grant that you will love me, 
 and I think you would, could you ever realize how sin 
 cerely I worship you." 
 
 Ulhugh took Myrtle s little white hand that he saw 
 resting on the side of her chair, but the beautiful girl 
 drew it from him, and casting on him her great, lus 
 trous dark eyes which spoke plainer than words: 
 "Surely, Ulhugh, you have forgotten yourself," and the 
 beautiful "star-eyed" queen of the South arose and 
 glided from Ulhugh s presence.
 
 203 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 " I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, 
 A stage where every man must play a part, 
 And mine a sad one." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 DURING the month that Ulhugh awaited an answer 
 from Myrtle he saw the lovely girl each day, yet not a 
 word of love did he speak only laughed and talked to 
 her as any good friend would have done. But Ulhugh 
 was a man that almost any girl would have loved if 
 long thrown in his company, so it was no wonder it 
 gradually dawned upon Myrtle that Ulhugh Waldo 
 was more to her than she wished him to be. Dearer 
 now than a brother, for her heart throbbed at the men 
 tion of his name and her dreamy eyes, though still sad, 
 had a luster and warmth in them never known to their 
 dark orbs before. Ah, it was the fire that love had 
 kindled, and who could now stay its flames? It had 
 come to conquer, or to utterly consume its victim. 
 
 Myrtle knew that love had taken possession of her 
 heart, and in a sense it gave her more happiness than 
 she thought it possible for her ever to realize. She had 
 tried hard to avoid Cupid s arrows, but the little sprite 
 had taken deadly aim, and the cold, queenly, beautiful 
 Idma loved now, as only a girl of her character could 
 love. Think not it was a passing fancy an impression 
 made on Idma s heart would last forever; and she who 
 a few weeks ago was incased in ice was now enveloped 
 in a sea of love that dashed and raged against her
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 203 
 
 throbbing heart, making her to ask herself: "Am I in 
 deed Myrtle? sha had no heart, but this Myrtle loves 
 U llmgh as she loves her own soul. 
 
 "Ah, but why cherish my affection? I can never 
 marry. If I have deceived the world, I will not be 
 false to him I love. A husband has a right to know a 
 wife s innermost soul. How could I look Ulhngh in 
 the face knowing I had deceived him? No, never, 
 never, could I be so wicked!" 
 
 Hence the love that should have made Myrtle most 
 happy, only made her more miserable. Myrtle thought 
 things were dreadful enough as they stood, but Ulhugh 
 made them worse when he said with great sadness on 
 telling her good-night: "Miss Myrtle, to-morrow is the 
 day of all days to me remember I am to receive my 
 answer from you. Please be sure you know your own 
 mind, for if you discard me, I will say good-by forever; 
 goodnight, and may God help you to love me." 
 
 He was gone, and Myrtle was left alone. 
 
 " May God help you to love me, as if I cared noth 
 ing for him! Ah, that is the trouble now I love him 
 too much why did he cross my path? Asleep or 
 awake his image is ever before me. I love him, yes, I 
 would go through flames and never feel the burn for 
 the love I bear him. Love him? I could be torn in 
 pieces by wild beasts and never feel the wounds if it 
 \vere to free him from harm. Love him? yes, yes, I 
 love him; my poor heart is crushed with the love I 
 bear him, but Idma s love is too deep to deceive him 
 whom she worships! Ulhugh, you shall go free; I 
 shall wear the fetters. My heart is greater than even 
 3*our noble heart can conceive, for it is strong enough 
 to sacrifice my love for your future happiness. Ul- 
 Lugii. I can never, never be your wife, yet a dagger at 
 ray heart I could receive) rather than. -tell you nay, for
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 oh how I love you," and the beautiful girl put her 
 hands over her face and sobbed bitterly. 
 
 Cecil came under the arbor at this moment alas, it 
 was that same fated retreat in which they had stood 
 years before, but Myrtle was so absorbed in grief 
 that she did not see him. Cecil s heart went out to the 
 poor girl, and he would have put his arms about her, 
 as he had done many times when she was a child, but 
 he knew she would not receive his affection as she had 
 done then, so endeavoring to comfort her as best he 
 could, he said: "Myrtle, my child, do you mind telling 
 me what grieves you?" 
 
 Then he went on talking as if speaking to himself. 
 
 Myrtle hushed her sobs and dried her tears, for there 
 was something in Cecil s sad voice that calmed her soul 
 just as when he had taken her in his arms as a little 
 girl and lulled her to sleep. 
 
 "Tell me, child, is your trouble one in which I can 
 help you? I do not wish to pry into your life, and I 
 know you will believe me when I say I only wish to 
 comfort you. Myrtle, I had thought you happy. I 
 knew you loved Ulhugh, for I have seen your affection 
 grow from indifferent friendship into deepest love, and 
 how it has delighted my soul, although I had hoped 
 you would love Lenfred. Every one says he is dead in 
 love with you ; but if you love Ulhugh, it is well, for 
 whoever your choice may be, Myrtle, I know it is a 
 wise one, since you are a sensible girl and are better 
 acquainted with the two young men than I hence 
 can best judge of their merits. My child, now that you 
 can marry and be happy, why delay the wedding day? 
 Ulhugh is poor, but I have wealth, and will gladly 
 give him a start in life. When you wish to marry, I 
 will give you a bridal present of fifty thousand dollars. 
 So if it is your lover s poverty that makes you cry,
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 205 
 
 Myrtle, cease your tears ; you shall never want for any 
 thing as long as I have a cent." 
 
 Not one word did Myrtle utter in reply to Cecil s re 
 marks, for how could she tell the poor sick man what 
 was in her sad heart? It would necessitate the bring 
 ing up of all the hateful past to his mind, and this she 
 could not do no, she would endure her grief alone. 
 Many years she had borne burdens, she would continue 
 to bear them until death should set her free. "Little 
 one, will you not tell me?" 
 
 Myrtle was startled many days had gone by since 
 he used that term "little one" to her, but she knew 
 she had nothing to fear from Cecil now, for never had 
 he made the slightest reference to the past. "Will you 
 not tell me when the wedding day shall be, when will 
 my Myrtle be married?" 
 
 "Never, Cecil, never!" 
 
 "Never? why, Myrtle, do you deny your love for 
 Ulhugh?" 
 
 "No, I love him more than my own life." 
 
 "Then, my child, why do you not marry him?" 
 
 "I have the best of reasons. Cecil, please do not 
 question me further it would do no good for me to tell 
 you why I cannot marry Ulhugh. 
 
 Like an arrow the cause of Myrtle s grief shot 
 through Cecil s mind. He remembered now that long 
 ago she had said she would never marry ; alas, he knew 
 too well the reason of the sweet girl s misery. Cecil 
 disliked to refer to the past, yet he was willing to do 
 anything to bring happiness to Myrtle. 
 
 "My child, I know your reason for not marrying 
 you told me before you left for school, yet I had hoped, 
 as the years rolled by, you had changed your mind. 
 Are your feelings on this subject the game as they were 
 theu, Myrtle?"
 
 206 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "Yes, Cecil, but let it pass." 
 
 "Child, because I am sick, in the goodness of your 
 heart you would spare me every pain, but I beseech you 
 to keep nothing from me; it will relieve your mind to 
 confide in me. Will you not tell me what you were 
 crying about a few minutes ago?" 
 
 Cecil, I do not wish to make j~ou sad, but as you 
 have insisted on knowing my sorrow, listen a few 
 weeks ago Ulhugh addressed me I refused him. It 
 was not hard for me to say no then, for I did not love 
 him, although I admired him more than any man I 
 had ever met. He told me as his lovemaking had been 
 rather sudden and abrupt, he would wait one month so 
 that I might have due time for reflection ere I gave to 
 him my final decision. He has not spoken one word of 
 love since, but having seen him from day to day, the 
 sisterly feeling I once had for him has grown into an 
 other that is far beyond a sister s affection. Ah, yes, 
 into a love so fervent that I am frightened, not know 
 ing what might be the grave consequences of such ardent 
 devotion. A few minutes ago Ulhugh left me with these 
 words: Miss Myrtle, if you reject me the second time, 
 I will go where you can never again see me. Cecil, I 
 am crying because my second answer must be as my 
 first either this, or tell him what my life has been. I 
 cannot, I will not deceive the man I marry. What 
 must I do Cecil? Oh, if I only knew what course to 
 pursue, for I love him until my soul seems consumed 
 in love. Oh, it will be so hard for me to give him up 
 forever!" and the poor girl wrung her hands with grief 
 seeming to forget the presence of him who had been 
 the cause of all her sorrow. 
 
 It is needless to say Cecil knew more anguish than 
 Myrtle, for often those who are the cause of another s 
 distress suffer themselves the more agony. Cecil
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 207 
 
 wiped his cold brow, and tried in every way to comfort 
 Myrtle, yet his words were of little avail. 
 
 "Cecil, I shall tell Ulhugh all my life and let him 
 decide for himself if it is best for me to marry him." 
 
 "Myrtle, my child, what do I hear? You certainly 
 do not expect to reveal your past history to your lover ; 
 he of all persons in the world should be kept in the 
 dark ; and why tell him anything about your former 
 life. For do you know there are only a few couples 
 who would dare divulge to each other the secrets that 
 are forever locked in their bosoms? Myrtle, you are 
 too conscientious. Be wise, my child; have you 
 thought of the grave consequences of such grievous in 
 formation, and then, Myrtle, Ulhugh would think 
 you told him the truth only in part. Furthermore, 
 your lover would kill me as he would a common dog. 
 Not that I would mind his murdering me, my child ; it 
 would only be a release from the torment I have suffered 
 since that fated night, for you can see I am dying from 
 remorse of conscience, and have but a few days to live; 
 so it is not for myself, but for you, Myrtle, and my 
 poor wife I plead; for if I should be killed by Ulhugh 
 the disgrace would be felt by all. The law would compel 
 him to give a reason for my death, and he would have 
 to state the plain facts in the case to save his own life. 
 Oh, Myrtle, my child, think, think well, I beseech you, 
 ere you bring such anguish upon yourself and family." 
 
 Cecil had risen from his seat, and was walking ex 
 citedly to and fro in the little arbor his face was as pale 
 as death, and he appeared to be much weaker than usual. 
 Myrtle perceived his anguish, and felt she had given 
 him needless suffering. "Forgive me, Cecil, that I 
 should have given you the least pain while you are yet 
 sick ; try to calm yourself ; for I shall never do any 
 thing that can injure you or any whom you love. You
 
 908 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 are coughing ; it is now best that you go into the house. 
 There, I hear Leita calling you now I suspect she is 
 worried about your being out in the night air." 
 
 As Cecil walked away Myrtle thought "Ah, surely, 
 the wages of sin is death. I know the end is nearly 
 come to this poor man ; he cannot possibly live but a 
 few days longer. It appears doubly sad when it is re 
 membered the beginning of his life was so bright and 
 prosperous, and to think his sun must set in gloom. 
 Although he has forever ended my happiness, God help 
 me to forgive him as I hope to be forgiven. I wish 
 him to die in peace. Ulhugh. I will see you to-morrow 
 for the last time I would tell you my sad history, but I 
 would not endanger the life of Cecil. You shall, Ul 
 hugh, soon forget me, go marry a sweet, trusting 
 woman ; you will yet become happy in her love ; but poor, 
 fated Idma shall sorrow and grieve and live in loneliness 
 with none to comfort and cheer her, for he whom she 
 loved and worshipped shall be lost to her forever. 
 
 " One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws 
 Its bleak shade alike o er our joys and our woes, 
 To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring, 
 For which joy has no balm and affliction no sting."
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 " I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 ON Mr. Felix s return home he read Raymond s let 
 ter and then taking Edith s picture in his hands gazed 
 intently into the sweet face. "My God, what do I see? 
 This is Viola Waldo s child as certain as I live. Too 
 often have I visited Ulhugh in his early married life to 
 have forgotten the lovely face of his child-bride, whose 
 beauty was too peculiarly striking to be forgotten. I 
 also remember they had a little girl, and because of her 
 striking likeness to her mother Ulhugh wished the lit 
 tle one to be named Viola, but to this Mrs. Waldo 
 objected, and later persuaded her husband to name the 
 baby Edith for a loved schoolmate of hers. Ah, my 
 fears are only too true when is the wedding day?" 
 
 Mr. Felix looked at the invitation card, which he al 
 ready knew by heart, and then sighed deeply. "It 
 will be impossible for me to arrive in Baltimore, even 
 if the train is on time, until the exact hour of the wed 
 ding. What shall I do? Something must be done at 
 once to prevent this horrible consummation. Ah, I 
 will telegraph immediately to Raymond," and Mr. 
 Felix, not waiting to put 011 his hat, rushed through the 
 streets like a madman, and going direct to the tele 
 graph office sent this telegram : 
 
 "In the name of all that is sacred do not marry. I 
 come on the next train so as to prove the impossibility
 
 210 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 of your union with the young lady. 1 Ijeseoch yon stop 
 everything until you see me. 
 
 " r A IT 1 r- T i- " 
 J . j-\. i 1 EL.IX. 
 
 The message like many other telegrams was delayed, 
 and you have already witnessed the dreadful conse 
 quence of its non-arrival. 
 
 When Edith and Raymond became aware of their 
 being brother and sister, news that at one time would 
 have been so sweet to them, now made bitterness of 
 agony bej r ond description. Edith when alone with 
 Raymond threw herself in her brother s arms and 
 sobbed bitterly. The bridal veil becoming wet in tears, 
 she moaned: "Take it from me, unpin it, Raymond, I 
 shall never need it more. Oh, Raymond, how I love 
 3 T ou. and to think our deepest devotion will become our 
 greatest curse! Oh, my Father, what can I do without 
 my Raymond?" and the beautiful girl wept and refused 
 to be comforted. 
 
 "Edith, my darling, I know it is hard for one so 
 young, fair, and free from care to bear this heavy bur 
 den; would it were in my power to suffer for you, my 
 darling; yet try to calm yourself. God will give you 
 strength if you ask Him. Ah, if the late war sent as 
 much anguish into every home North and South as our 
 family has experienced, there surely would never more 
 be clashing of arms, for men would learn to reason 
 with each other rather than kill one another in cold 
 blood, leaving their families to grieve and suffer for 
 generations afterward. I do not censure my dear 
 father, or any one individual, but strange it is thai 
 Christian nations do not learn a better way to settle 
 their differences. 
 
 "Raymond, my brother, my lover, my husband, you 
 can never be tell me no more of war ; my heart is
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 211 
 
 bursting because I must forever be separated from you. 
 Will you indeed leave me, my Raymond? please say 
 you will not, for I die the day I see your face no more. 
 
 "My darling, my poor little thing," and he stooped 
 and kissed tenderly the childlike face, as he continued : 
 Precious, if we had known of our near kinship before 
 the world knew of our love we might have lived together 
 as devoted brother and sister, but, under the existing cir 
 cumstances, it would look wrong in the eyes of the 
 world should I continue longer to see your face. So, 
 darling, I must leave this very night for California ; 
 the sooner we separate, my angel, the better it will be 
 for both of us. And now, my angel, kiss me good -by. 
 I had rather be torn in pieces than to part from my 
 darling, or to see her suffer as she does to-night. Yet 
 what has been decreed w-3 should meet with Christian 
 fortitude. Good-by, good-by, my darling a last, long 
 kiss, my beautiful bride. Perhaps we shall never meet 
 again on earth, yet your sweet face is so indelibly im 
 pressed on my heart that I shall see it as the days come 
 and go, and never can I forget, darling, how lovely 
 you looked to-night. Remember further, my precious 
 sister, it will not be long before we shall all be gath 
 ered in an unbroken family to dwell with mother, 
 father, and the many loved ones gone to the other shore, 
 where there is neither marriage nor giving in 
 marriage, but all are as the angels in heaven. 
 
 Edith made no answer, simply clung to Raymond as 
 a frail tendril twines itself about something strong. 
 Gently and tenderly the brother took from his neck his 
 sister s snowy white arms. Edith made no resistance ; 
 poor girl, she was too weak, and now her strength 
 seemed to be fast failing. Raymond imprinted one 
 more fervent, loving kiss on his Edith s tear-stained 
 cheeks, and then turning to leave he noticed a sweet,
 
 212 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 calm smile upon her lovely face. "Thank God," he 
 thought, "my darling is becoming reconciled. Oh, I 
 can stand anything better than to see my Edith suffer. 
 Mine did I say? Ah, mine no more forever." 
 
 A few minutes later, Mrs. De Long went in Edith s 
 room, and found her in the same state of mind in which 
 Raymond had left her. Gently the foster-mother un 
 dressed her beautiful daughter, and thinking as Edith 
 did not speak she preferred to be quiet, the good 
 woman also remained silent; yet, thinking: "Poor 
 child, I would not add to her grief, for I know her 
 heart is bursting. " Mrs. De Long then tucked Edith 
 in bed as she had done so often in days gone by and 
 kissed tenderly and gently the flushed, feverish cheeks 
 of the lovely girl, and turned the gas low prior to leav 
 ing the room. But think not the good woman slept 
 that night, for her anxiety concerning Edith was too 
 great, and she fain would have visited the young girl s 
 room had she not feared she would disturb the fair 
 sleeper s rest. However, at the early dawn, the mother 
 being overcome with anxiety for her daughter, tipped 
 to Edith s door and knocked gently. Receiving no 
 answer she walked lightly into her daughter s room. 
 
 What did she see? Edith lying on her snowy bed 
 with her fleecy bridal veil wrapped about her perfect 
 form, with the same sweet smile upon her face that her 
 lover had noticed ere he had taken his final farewell of 
 his betrothed, with this exception there was now no 
 color in the dimpled cheeks, and the mischievous dark- 
 blue eyes had forever lost their sparkling luster. "God 
 have pity," cried the broken-hearted mother, for 
 Edith s golden hair had become as snow-white as her 
 tiny hands that lay folded on her calm, peaceful breast. 
 "Alas, alas, my beautiful Edith is dead! Yes, dead- 
 dead!"
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 213 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 CASS "The ides of inarch are come." 
 SOOTH "Ay Csesar, but not gone." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 CECIL being very ill when the day arrived for Myrtle 
 to give her final decision to her lover, the young girl 
 wrote Ulhugh to postpone hia visit until her brother 
 might become better. Cecil continued quite sick for 
 weeks, yet Myrtle was ever faithful in nursing the 
 man who had made her life so unhappy. In the mean 
 time Lenfred had come and on meeting Ulhugh there 
 immediately sprang up a warm friendship between the 
 two young men ; and when Lenfred found that Ulhugh 
 was the son of the Waldo who had saved his life on the 
 battlefield of Manassas, his heart went out with in 
 creased love for his new friend. 
 
 Lenfred, having already established himself on the 
 pinnacle of his profession, was called in to attend Cecil 
 in his illness. The young physician saw Myrtle now 
 each day, and it is unnecessary to say his lovo for the 
 beautiful girl increased hourly, especially as he ob 
 served the gentleness with which she nursed her sick 
 brother, and how she tried in every way to relieve her 
 sister of all burden and care attendant upon lingering 
 sickness. In truth, Myrtle was a sweet, ministering 
 angel, and Lenfred only waited Cecil s recovery to 
 breathe forth his ardent love for the beautiful girl,
 
 214 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 when an unlooked-for incident occurred that startled 
 him greatly. 
 
 Strolling alone in the woods one day he became tired, 
 and sitting down on an old log, as he rested, some busi 
 ness transaction came into his mind ; putting his hands 
 into his pocket to get a piece of paper so as to make 
 certain calculations he felt in this and that pocket, 
 both large and small, yet no paper could he find pity, 
 pity, then turning his head his eyes rested on a clean 
 white sheet on the ground. After finishing the cipher 
 ing, .he was about to tear the paper and cast it from 
 him, when he accidentally noticed his name written on 
 the other side of the page. 
 
 "Well, this is strange; who is writing my name 
 and throwing it about the woods? I must see what it 
 means. And by the fast-fading twilight Lenf red read : 
 
 Oh, Myrtle, Myrtle, how I long to know that you 
 love me. You said once you did not love me, but will 
 there never be any hope for Ulhugh he that has ever 
 been your friend since boyhood? Do }*ou not know the 
 brightest days will be as midnight without the sunlight 
 of your sweet face? How I do envy Lenfred s seeing 
 you from day to day. Oh, Myrtle, what if you should 
 love him, and it would be but natural, for he is intelli 
 gent, refined, wealthy, handsome, polished, healthy, a 
 true Christian gentleman ; in short, the most rounded 
 find perfected manhood is centered in him. Should he 
 lay all he possesses at 3 r our feet, could you say him 
 k nay? Yet, Myrtle, my darling, think, oh think, be- 
 iore you send me away in despair 
 
 Lenfred read this note and everything reeled before 
 him. "He loves her, but she does not love him. I, too, 
 love her would she ever love me? I have the right to 
 find out, as she has refused Ulhugh, which is quite evi 
 dent from this note. She is free, thank God, and as I 
 have loved her all these years and have been forced to
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 215 
 
 keep locked my heart s secret, it is but proper that I 
 should immediately go and tell my fair queen all the 
 love of my soul. If she loved Ulhugh, I would feel in 
 honor bound to still subdue my affections, but as she 
 cares nothing for him I feel free to press my suit, and 
 as Cecil is much better to-day, I shall go at once and 
 tell my treasure of my love for her." 
 
 Lenfred pondered these things, and reviewing his 
 life, his mind unconsciously reverted to that night on 
 the battlefield of Manassas when he had thought him 
 self almost past life, and another soldier Waldo by 
 name lay dying by his side ; but ere this brave South 
 ern soldier breathed his last he had snatched the cloth 
 that served to stanch his life-blood from his own wounds 
 and bound it about the boy in blue, at the same 
 time giving the Northern lad the last drop of water in 
 his canteen, and for all this kindness the brave soldier 
 made a strange request : 
 
 Lad, if in the weary years to come you can in any 
 way add to the happiness of my baby boy, will you 
 do so?" 
 
 "Oh, God, oh, God! it is his voice from the spirit- 
 land. And I did swear, yes, my oath was trebly bound 
 by the droppings thud thud thud ! of his life-blood ; 
 and now to think the young man who wrote this note is 
 that dying soldier s baby boy. What! Did the father 
 peer through the years, even to this fated day? Was a 
 vision granted the suffering soldier that he should have 
 made of me this fated request? And I did swear, yes, 
 it seemed then a little thing for me to grant ; but alas, I 
 know now too late it involves my eternal happiness. 
 Must I in truth give up all hope of ever winning the 
 queenly Idma, and see her given to another just wiien 
 she seemed almost my own? Surely it is impossible for 
 me to intercede for Ulhugh while I with bursting heart 
 long to claim her my own fair bride ! No, never I can-
 
 216 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 not I will not. Hark, hush, does the dying soldier in 
 ghostlike accents speak to me from the tomb? Oh, 
 man, you had never survived the battlefield of Manas- 
 sas had not the soldier in gray died that the lad in 
 blue might live. Take heed, your young life-blood 
 still pulsates with active vitality; you have wealth, 
 position, while I am dead, my body dust, my name 
 forgotten let it pass. Yet my son, my baby boy, my 
 namesake, my Ulhugh, poor and unknown, for him I 
 come from the spirit-land to intercede. He has nothing 
 except the hope he has centered in the beautiful Idma 
 Dean. Will you take from him his all, and blast his 
 young life when it is on the eve of br.rsting into happi 
 ness? Your oath, young man. your oath." 
 
 In imagination Lenfred saw the dying soldier appear 
 before him with ghostly visage pleading for his baby 
 boy. Arising from the old log, Lenfred gazed about 
 him with a wild, vacant stare on his sad, dejected coun 
 tenance, and had Ulhugh come to search for the note 
 he had accidentally dropped, he would Lave mistaken 
 Lenfred for a madman. No one, however, molested 
 the soul -perplexed victim who for hours remained in 
 that lonely spot alone with his grief trying to decide 
 in some way his future course toward Uihugh and 
 Myrtle. His heart telling him one thing, while his 
 conscience bade him do another. Midnight passed, 
 and still the struggle went on. "Must I ask myself 
 the same question a thousand times, and come to the 
 same conclusion? Is it possible for me to see another 
 take my beautiful Idma, and lose her forever? No, it 
 cannot be! it shall not be!" Lenf red s forehead had 
 become damp and cold; the heavy night dews fell thick 
 about his uncovered Lead still he seemed to feel noth 
 ing save the anguish that gnawed at his breast. At 
 last sinking upon the ground, it dawned upon his soul
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 21? 
 
 to go to the ever pitying Father for solace and comfort. 
 Reverently kneeling in the stillness of that midnight 
 hour Lenfred Lamont poured out his soul to his Maker 
 as he had never before, and He who knoweth our weak 
 nesses enfolded His fainting child to His fatherly bosom 
 and bore him above the lashing waves of sorrow and 
 despair, for when Lenfred arose from his knees he was 
 as composed as if nothing had ever happened to thwart 
 his happy life plans. Yet could you have scrutinized 
 his calm face, you would have observed he had passed 
 through the crucible, but had come forth the purer 
 from the contact with the fiery flames of suffering. 
 
 "I know my duty only too well Idma, angel of my 
 life, I love thee more than my being, but alas ! the love 
 I bear thee shall be buried with me in the grave my 
 Maker be praised that He has given me fortitude to 
 keep my oath to the dying soldier. Doubtless Myrtle 
 did not marry Ulhugh because of his poverty, thinking 
 perhaps his income was insufficient to support two per 
 sons. To remedy this, I shall at once give him an offer 
 to become my medical partner, and then the beautiful 
 Myrtle can have no possible excuse for rejecting Ul 
 hugh, as he is a man whose character is not only above 
 reproach, but is in every respect a grand and noble 
 gentleman, chivalrous and brave, in truth, a fit hus 
 band. Yes, even for the queenly Idma Dean. I shall 
 henceforth lose no time in endeavoring to assure Myrtle 
 of Ulhugh s great merits. My sacrifice is beyond that 
 which I thought myself capable of making; yet I be 
 lieve God will sustain me in my decision; for alas, I 
 know now I could never be happy with the fair Idma 
 Dean in that my oath would be as a ghost calling to re 
 membrance that horrible night at Manassas. God 
 grant as the years roll by my suffering may become 
 blunted. I am exceedingly glad mother does not know
 
 218 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 of my devotion to Myrtle, for while she suspects I 
 greatly admire the beautiful girl, yet she is not posi 
 tive of my love beyond that of true friendship and high 
 esteem. And what a blessing I have never breathed 
 my vows to Myrtle. She can now marry Ulhugh and 
 live at our house, and mother will find in her a sweet 
 companion, and I will still have a sisterly friend. Ah 
 God help me to be true to my oath." 
 
 A few days later, to the amazement of all in the little 
 village, Cecil became greatly improved in health, so 
 much so that he persuaded Lenfred (better known to 
 the outside world as Dr. Lament) to grant him the 
 privilege of a short walk. "Well, perhaps a little out 
 ing will do you good. Cecil, yet be sure not to overtax 
 your strength, for if you do another hemorrhage will 
 be the inevitable consequence. Let nothing exciting 
 enter into your life forewarned is forearmed, is what 
 mother would say. Good-by, I will drop round and 
 see you in a few days, and I hope by that time to find 
 you much improved," and Lenfred, smiling pleasantly, 
 tipped his hat and walked hurriedly out of Cecil s front 
 gate. Ulhugh, on meeting Cecil a half hour later, was 
 glad indeed to see him up, and doubly so when he re 
 membered he could now see Myrtle. Hastening to the 
 old mansion Ulhugh with beating heart rang the door 
 bell. The servant who answered the summons was 
 requested to ask Miss Myrtle if she would enjoy a 
 stroll, as it was such a beautiful afternoon. Ten min 
 utes had hardly passed when Myrtle appeared in the 
 parlor. Her greeting to Ulhugh was in accents tremu 
 lous with sweet emotion. Ulhugh thought as she stood 
 before him adorned in spotless white she had never 
 looked more like an angel. "She is indeed too pure 
 and lovely for earth." 
 
 As the two lovers walked through the sweet-scented
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH 219 
 
 flosver garden, Myrtle paused and took from her favor 
 ite rosebush some snowy buds, and pinned them on 
 her breast. 
 
 "Miss Myrtle, I do not remember ever having seen 
 you without flowers. Do you wear them all the time?" 
 
 "Most of the time, Ulhugh, and I frequently fall 
 asleep with my hands full of blossoms. I admire all 
 flowers, but especially am I fond of white roses and 
 lilies of the valley." 
 
 Myrtle had put on a broad-brimmed hat so that her 
 dark eyes were not seen by Ulhugh s earnest gaze; yet 
 it was best he did not read the meaning of those 
 fathomless orbs. The lovers talked but little for both 
 were absorbed in sad reflection and came after a short 
 walk to a place that w r as beautiful beyond comparison. 
 The vines had overlapped and interlaced and twined 
 themselves into caressing tendrils about old oaks as if 
 to exclude the kissing sunshine from the mossy roots 
 gorgeous flowers, bright-plumed songsters, the faint 
 twittering of the humming birds, the low buzz of the 
 bumble-bee, the rhythmical dip of the dripping oars 
 in the blue lake beyond, the tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, of 
 the far-away cow bell, the sweet, musical laughter of 
 children playing on the sandy lake snore, the baa-baa of 
 lazy sheep, and the low cooing of the turtle dove all 
 tended to enhance the charm of "Lovers Lane," as this 
 tunnel of loveliness was fitly called. Surely death itself 
 would be sweet when the senses were lulled to rest by 
 faint incenses of perfumed flowers, and weary eye 
 lids, touched by the airy wings of golden butterflies, 
 closed in sweet forgetfuluess to wake in fairer celestial 
 climes. Lenfred was entering "Lovers Lane" when 
 he observed the lovers approach, but he hastily made 
 his retreat, while Myrtle tarried to gather the wild 
 flowers that grew in her pathw r ay.
 
 220 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "God forbid that I should cloud their sunny lives 
 with my saddened being; if it is impossible for me to be 
 joyous, I will not debar others of pleasure. Oh, beau 
 tiful woman, be happy, for it is not necessary that one 
 should tell me you too have suffered in life from some 
 hidden grief, and if the loveliest creature in all the world 
 has sorrow, shall I go free? Yet, I had hoped to glad 
 den your sad face, but never more, never more, is 
 the cheerless knell that echoes in the silent halls of my 
 darkened soul. Ah, Poe, I comprehend alas, too late, 
 the croaking of thy ill-omened Raven, wailing forth 
 never more never more! 
 
 Myrtle nervously twining the wild flowers into a 
 beautiful wreath threw it carelessly about her exquis 
 itely formed neck and shoulders, and entered "Lovers 
 Lane." Her heart beat fast and loud, for she knew 
 this tunnel of loveliness would be to her a martyr s 
 ground; yet her mind was firmly fixed. She had 
 prayed for courage, and knew in whom she trusted. "I 
 will in a few short moments bid adieu forever to the man 
 I hold dearer than my life, but better an eternal fare 
 well to him I love than endanger the life of Cecil, or to 
 deceive Ulhugh in reference to my true character." 
 
 The young couple sat underneath an old moss-covered 
 tree, with daisies and violets blossoming beneath their 
 feet ; all nature seemed hushed to catch their whispers 
 of love. Ulhugh had wished his wooing to be in 
 accents as sweet as ancient kiiights to their ladies fair; 
 but poor man, his only thought now was that Myrtle 
 would surety hear the loud throbbing of his beating 
 heart, and alas that which he intended to say passed 
 forever from his mind. He saw, moreover, Myrtle s 
 nervousness and felt keenly the awkwardness of tl:o 
 occasion; neither spoke. The perplexity of each be 
 came doubly embarrassing.
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 221 
 
 At last, with a mighty effort, Ulhugh managed to 
 stammer: "Myrtle, you know me too well to expect 
 anything but bluntness from my tongue. I am not 
 gifted in wooing, my darling, but you know only too 
 well I love you. I now ask you to-day, once more, 
 and also for the last time, if there is any hope of your 
 becoming my bride? I have more to offer you to-day 
 than I had one month ago, for Dr. Lamont wishes me 
 to be his medical partner, as his practice has become 
 entirely too large for one man to attend to properly. 
 He tells me that he has had his eyes open for some 
 time trying to find a suitable partner. I certainly feel 
 grateful and flattered that he has selected me from 
 among his numerous acquaintances; and oh, Myrtle, 
 my darling, how happy I was when I knew I would 
 soon have a remunerative practice, for I felt because of 
 my poverty you had refused my heart. But now with 
 bright prospects to lay at your feet have you any en 
 couragement to give me will you be my wife, Myrtle?" 
 
 No answer came to Ulhugh s question, but instead 
 an awful death-like stillness ensued, and Myrtle turned 
 her head from her lover s earnest gaze, that he might 
 not see the agony depicted in her countenance. Yet 
 Ulhugh continued to plead his manly voice made 
 tremulous now with the burning love of his soul : "Oh 
 Myrtle, my angel, through many weary years have I 
 waited that I might filially win you, and if you will 
 promise to be mine forever, you know I will strive to 
 my utmost to make you happy. I doubt not you be- 
 liove the sincerity of my words. When last I spoke to 
 you, Myrtle, of my devotion, you said you admired me 
 above any of your gentleman friends has your esteem 
 grown to more than a sisterly regard speak to me, 
 pui-cdt, loveliest being tell me my fate will you bo 
 mine?"
 
 222 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "Never, never, Ulhugh," and Myrtle wrung her 
 hands, her grief being beyond her control; even her 
 lover observed her sad, tearful countenance. "Leave 
 me, Ulhugh, I can never marry you." 
 
 "Myrtle, my darling, I will not leave you," and Ul 
 hugh clasping tenderly her little cold white hands tried 
 to kiss them into warmth once more. "No, Myrtle, I 
 will not leave you until I hear from your own lips you 
 care nothing for me. I pray you, my angel, tell me 
 truly do you not love me?" 
 
 With beating heart Ulhugh waited Myrtle s reply, 
 which never came. "Ah, Myrtle, you are too true to de 
 ceive me, darling those sad, beautiful eyes that have 
 haunted and charmed me all through my almost fated 
 life tell me that which you are too modest to whisper. 
 Yes, my angel, your soulful orbs have betrayed your 
 heart s secret. Love is written in their mysterious 
 depths; my Myrtle, yet fain would you try to conceal 
 it by those long, drooping lids ah, my darling, are you 
 ashamed of love the purest, sweetest bliss given to 
 mortal man?" 
 
 "Oh, Ulhugh, I am distracted, leave me alone with 
 my grief, I pray you; persecute me no longer." 
 
 "My darling, you are doing the persecuting you do 
 not deny your love, and if you have the slightest affec 
 tion for me, why can I not hope some day to win you? 
 Is it, Myrtle, because you think your station in life is 
 above mine?" 
 
 "No, no, Ulhugh, I thought you knew me better than 
 to think thus of me," and with a melancholy expression 
 in her lustrous dark eyes Idma looked into the wistful 
 face of her lover, and whispered sadly : 
 
 "Ah, Ulhugh, it would be the happiest day of my 
 being could I become your wife, but I cannot ; I dare 
 not!"
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 223 
 
 "Myrtle, my darling, are you betrothed? Surely I 
 am becoming crazed ; have mercy, fair woman, and give 
 me some clew to all this mystery. Are you engaged to 
 another?" 
 
 "No indeed, Ulhugh, no man ever spoke one word of 
 love to me I never I no unmar I 
 
 "Oh, Myrtle, my darling, confide in me; why do you 
 not marry me? Forgive my seeming rudeness in ask 
 ing you such a question ; but I will hazard frowns if in 
 the end I might win your affection. Speak, Myrtle, 
 ideal of all that is lovely and pure, is there any hope 
 for a poor, unknown Southern boy, with no inheritance 
 save the pure and spotless name bequeathed by a grand 
 and noble father, who poured out his life-blood to save 
 our fair Southland ; yes, and if a hundred lives he could 
 have had, all and more would have been gladly given 
 in his country s service. And now, Myrtle, will you 
 scorn the brave soldier s son, because as yet he has not 
 made a name for himself? Ah, Myrtle, it must be true, 
 else why do you persist in refusing my offers of love? 
 
 The silence that then ensued was equalled only by 
 the stillness of death. Myrtle did not dare speak for 
 fear she might unlock the hidden secret, of her soul 
 seconds passed into minutes, and eternity alone will 
 tell the anguish pent in the heart of those two Southern 
 children. 
 
 "Myrtle, I fall at thy feet; all homage will I give to 
 thee, beautiful queen of my heart, but as I kneel before 
 thy supreme loveliness it has suddenly and horribly 
 dawned upon me that you love another. Surely, Myrtle, 
 you must love Lenfred why did I not see it before? 
 Oh, God, how can I give you to another? Yes, you 
 are too good to wound my feelings by telling me you 
 love LenfreJ. Myrtle, my darling, farewell, let me 
 clasp once more those little white hands and kiss them
 
 224 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 for the last time my darling, I go to lands far distant 
 to make for myself a name ; you shall never see my 
 face again, Myrtle ; but remember, my angel, your pure 
 life has been a sweet and holy benediction to my soul. 
 One more fervent kiss," and Ulhugh turned suddenly 
 to go, so as to hide his deep emotion from the sad-hearted 
 Idrna. 
 
 "Stay, stay Ulhugh, I beseech you; I implore you." 
 and Myrtle wrung her hands and moaned. "Oh, Ul 
 hugh, could you see my sorrowing heart you would not 
 sharpen my grief by telling me you were going to leave 
 me forever; have mercy, Ulhugh, say you will not go," 
 and Myrtle clung closer to her lover, as she saw him 
 about to forsake her. With gentleness Ulhugh put 
 her aside. 
 
 Before Ulhugh had gone five feet he thought he 
 heard a husky voice. "Stop, young man, stop " 
 Myrtle startled, turning, saw, to her amazement, Cecil 
 before them. 
 
 "Young man, please listen to me. I came here to 
 rest, but unavoidably have heard your conversation, 
 and now I hope you will pardon my seeming intrusion, 
 and bear with me awhile. Yes, listen; this queenly 
 girl could have married any man in this fair Southland 
 or Northland either if she had so chosen, but she pre 
 ferred you to all other men. She knew you had neither 
 wealth nor name, but loved you for that which every 
 woman should love a man individual merit. Would 
 you know why she would not consent to marry you?" 
 
 "Oh, Cecil, hush, please do not tell him," and Myrtle 
 putting her arms about her brother s neck pleaded in 
 vain for him to keep silent. She well knew when 
 "Greek met Greek" she might expect a fearful "tug 
 of war." Cecil gently put his beautiful sister from 
 him: "My child, the time has come for me to speak j
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 225 
 
 do not try to silence me I will take the consequences 
 of this hour. With anguish in her sweet voice, Myrtle 
 in pleading accents whispered: "Cecil, do not tell him; 
 he will kill you." 
 
 The sick man only smiled. "Myrtle, my child, I 
 hold not my life dear unto myself, my purpose is fixed, 
 I expect to tell Ulhugh all." 
 
 The beautiful girl, with sorrow depicted on her coun 
 tenance, stood by her brother s side, trembling like an 
 aspen leaf her face was as white as her snowy dress, 
 for she felt a fearful tragedy was about to ensue, as two 
 brave Southern knights were now face to face. She 
 well knew neither Cecil nor Ulhugh would brook an 
 insult unavenged. 
 
 "Oh," thought Myrtle, "what can I do to avert this 
 storm that is about to burst upon our fated heads?" 
 
 "Young man, have patience, and be not amazed if 
 your blood freezes or boils before I finish my story. This 
 lovely girl has a mother, which, on a casual glance, is 
 beautiful ; yet did you study her face you would find 
 the warmth of soul never came to soften her haughty 
 expression. And although she is a woman of great 
 brilliancy and culture, she is a confirmed infidel; con 
 sequently we do not expect to find much good in her ; 
 neither is it strange, under the circumstances, she 
 should worship some of her children, and hate others. 
 Myrtle happened to be one of the number she despised." 
 
 "Cecil, please do not speak of my mother with so 
 much disrespect. I am wounded to think " 
 
 "My child, hush, for you know I speak only truth. 
 As I intended saying, young man, Myrtle was neg 
 lected as if she had been a little waif. I lived in the 
 same house with the child, and my heart went out in 
 sympathy toward her because of her helplessness. The 
 little one finding in me a comforter brought her many
 
 226 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 sorrows to me that I might soothe and console her. Sho 
 often sobbed herself to sleep iu my arms, and many 
 times have I kissed the tears away from her pinched 
 cheeks, as I laid her tenderly to rest on her little bed. 
 As the days went by the child grew from a frail bud 
 into a beautiful flower; at the same time she became a 
 part of my being and I loved her. Yes, oh God 
 must I say it? Loved her more than ever a man loved 
 a sister. Start not, though it turns your heart to stone 
 to hear all I have to say. To increase the horror of the 
 situation, I was a married man, and knew well I should 
 not love my beautiful niece, for such she is, although 
 she had been taught to call me brother from her child 
 hood. No one will ever know how hard I tried to sub 
 due my affections, but all efforts to control my love 
 was in vain; and one night in a mad hour (for God 
 knows I had never premeditated sinning), a demon 
 ssemed to have suddenly taken possession of my being, 
 but she fled from my presence in the greatest alarm. 
 She had not left me five minutes until I became clothed 
 in my right mind, and I immediately began to search 
 for her so that I might entreat her forgiveness. On 
 looking everywhere in the yard and not finding her, I at 
 last went to her room she was gone. I found on the 
 table a note, the substance of which was that rather 
 than sin, or have me sin, she would die and meet her 
 God. I rushed to the lake, believing she intended 
 drowning herself. On seeing me, she swooned from 
 fear. Ere she fell to the ground I had caught her in 
 my arms, and while in an unconscious state I carried 
 her to the house and laid her on her bed. She knew 
 nothing for hours ; when at last she awoke, she was of 
 all beings most miserable, and she continued the most 
 unhappy creature I ever saw. As the years rolled by I 
 longed for the time for her to marry, hoping she would
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 22? 
 
 then forget her unhappiness, but to my amazement, she 
 said she would wed no man and thus act a deceiver. I 
 reasoned with her, but her mind was as fixed as the law 
 of the "Medes and Persians," and she persisted: I 
 will never marry any man with a part of my life hid 
 from his knowledge. If I am ever to become a wife, 
 my husband will have to know long before the wed 
 ding day all that has taken place in my life. But as 
 circumstances are such as to necessitate the conceal 
 ment of my early years, I will remain unmarried to 
 the end of my days; and now, young man," there was 
 observed at this moment a sudden tremor in Cecil s 
 weak voice, "she who is too conscientious for her own 
 happiness, she, the embodiment of truth and honor, 
 stands before you to-day in womanly beauty too pure 
 for this sinful world. Ah, I have known her from 
 babyhood, and yon " but the effort of talking was too 
 much for Cecil, and he suddenly sank heavily to the 
 ground. Myrtle rushed to her brother s side, and there 
 was anguish in her voice. 
 
 "Oh, Cecil, what can I do for you? Look, Ulhugh; 
 excitement has brought on another horrible hemorrhage. 
 Oh, luckless day! what shall I do?" 
 
 Quicker than thought Myrtle threw herself on the 
 ground and tenderly lifted Cecil s head, that was now 
 covered with dust and saturated in blood, into her lap, 
 then moaned piteously "Oh, Ulhugh, this is the man 
 who buried your dead brother, and paid all your ex 
 penses at college poor man, he had a good heart, and 
 although he sinned once, he like David repented in 
 sackcloth and ashes ; for he has been a changed man 
 ever since that dreadful night. But this is no slight 
 hemorrhage, go call his wife at once, and tell Dr. La- 
 mont not to delay a moment in coming to my brother s 
 relief."
 
 228 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 Ulhugh stood for a moment as one dazed, then in 
 speechless silence turned away to carry out Myrtle s 
 command, leaving Idma alone with Cecil. Myrtle s 
 tiny embroidered handkerchief and her spotless white 
 dress was soon soaked in blood. Cecil endeavored to 
 move his head upon the ground, so as not to further soil 
 his sister s dress, but Myrtle sweet ministering angel 
 anticipated his intentions. 
 
 "Rest easy, Cecil, what is my dress in comparison to 
 the ebbing of your life-blood?" 
 
 There being no abatement to the sick man s hemor 
 rhage, and Myrtle seeing her small handkerchief was 
 insufficient to keep Cecil s fast-flowing blood from 
 her lap, with quick intuition undid her soft silken hair, 
 so as to absorb the dark fluid in its meshes anything 
 to give her brother a resting place for his head. The 
 dying man saw her deed of love, and groaned piteously. 
 
 "Oh, Cecil, it is nothing I only wish I knew of 
 something to make you more comfortable." Cecil 
 Clair then closed his eyes, and Myrtle saw that death 
 had already stamped its cold dews on his haggard face 
 in a few short moments he would be gone forever. 
 
 "Must he leave this world and enter the unknown 
 eternity without one word of sympathy or love? It is 
 impossible for his wife to see him again in life, as she 
 is nowhere in sight." 
 
 With Christian charity that is ever kind the beau 
 tiful girl stooped and kissed the bloodstained lips of 
 Cecil Clair. The dying man spoke not, but on opening 
 his eyes Mj rtle read in their sunken depths the grati 
 tude of his soul. 
 
 "Make your peace with God, Cecil," whispered 
 Myrtle, and then it was she remembered having prom 
 ised her brother, when she was but a little girl, at the 
 old lime sink, that should he die before she did she
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 229 
 
 would sing to him in his last moments. The thought 
 of singing; at this sad hour brought a sudden pang to 
 her heart, but she was a woman that never broke a 
 promise. So with determined will power and calmness 
 that was surprising even to herself, her sweet voice 
 was raised in plaintive lutelike strains : 
 
 " Nearer, my God, to thee, 
 Nearer to thee, 
 Ev n though it be a cross, 
 That raiseth me, 
 Still all my song shall be, 
 Nearer, my God, to thee, 
 Nearer to thee." 
 
 Ere the sweet, angelic tones of the lovely singer had 
 floated away to the deep blue lake, Cecil Clair opened 
 his sunken eyes, and in broken, feeble, dying accents, 
 whispered : Wages of sin is de ath ! 
 
 "Oh, Cecil, surely you have asked forgiveness at the 
 hand of God? Remember he has said, Though your 
 sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. 
 Listen, dear brother, I will sing to you again : 
 
 " When ends life s transient dream, 
 When death s cold sullen stream, 
 Shall o er me roll, 
 Blest Saviour, then in love, 
 Fear and distress remove; 
 Oh, bear me safe above, 
 A ransomed soul." 
 
 As Myrtle sang a peaceful calm seemed to steal over 
 the dying man s haggard face. Myrtle bent low to 
 hear his last whisper: "Lei ta!" all was over! Cecil 
 Clair was no more his soul had gone to meet his God !
 
 230 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 When Myrtle gazed upon the lifeless form before her 
 the man whom she had loved and worshipped in 
 childhood, hated and feared in girlhood, pitied and 
 soothed in womanhood her own sad life came before 
 her, so as to completely overwhelm her. 
 
 "Oh, God, is this indeed the once noble, handsome, 
 dashing Cecil Clair, who saved my life one day from 
 the watery grave, and in after years tried to ah, but let 
 it pass ; let the dead rest in peace ; the living must for 
 give if they hope to be forgiven. Strange, this man s 
 life should have been so interwoven with mine, and 
 now the sin that has caused his death will drag me 
 down also? Is it possible for any man to sin unto him 
 self? Do not even the innocent and pure have to suffer 
 because of the errors of the wicked? Will not the 
 flames burn all alike that come nigh unto it? Will not 
 every touch of sin blight the soul? My brother s tragic 
 death was it because he crossed my path was it my 
 ill-omened self that dragged him down and is not to 
 day the fated Ides of March? Oh, my God, what 
 dreadful doom awaits me? Ah, this fearful pain at my 
 heart Cecil, I feel that I too shall follow thee soon. 
 Oh, dear Jesus in pity abide with me. Oh, God, give 
 me strength to sing my favorite hymn." 
 
 Then a holy, triumphant light beamed in the face of 
 the beautiful girl, as she trilled in "notes almost 
 divine" 
 
 " Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 Let me hide myself in thee." 
 
 Suddenly the rapturous tones died to wake no more 
 on earth the celestial strains caught by seraphs of God 
 had been borne to His thorne on high to mingle with
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 231 
 
 the. ceaseless halleluias of the redeemed as they shout 
 eternal hosannas to the Lamb for sinners slain. The 
 sad, lustrous, soulful eyes of the saintly girl cast for 
 giveness upon him who had blighted her life. Her 
 long dark silken hair, crimsoned with blood, shaded 
 Cecil s haggard face.; and faintly murmuring: "Ul 
 hugh," Idma s queenly head slowly drooped and fell 
 upon Cecil Glair s lifeless form. Yes, Idma the child 
 of the fated Ides was dead. 
 
 A few moments had passed and Ulhugh returned with 
 Lenfred. When the lover saw Myrtle s pulseless form, 
 bemoaned and cried out in his anguish : "My Maker, 
 my God Oh, she is dead dead oh, Myrtle, Myrtle, 
 my darling, angel of my life how I loved you ! Oh, 
 fated day that I was born only to see all whom I love 
 pass forever from my sight. Did any words of mine 
 bring about this sad tragedy? Oh, Idma, queen of 
 my heart speak to me once more bring comfort to 
 my poor, broken heart." The sorrowing man then 
 caught Myrtle s lifeless body in his arms, and pressing 
 it to his throbbing breast, seemed for the time to lose 
 his reason: "Oh, my darling, you cannot die you 
 shall not be dead, dead, no, no!" 
 
 Lenfred at this moment gently touched the stricken 
 man and his voice grew very tender: "Ulhugh, try to 
 be calm, I also loved her yes, even as much as you, but 
 she was too pure to dwell upon this sinful earth. 
 Think of her lovely life beautiful and sweet in every 
 way, and thank God, it was your good pleasure to have 
 been thrown in her presence even for a few days. Ul 
 hugh, try to bear your grief listen, henceforth we 
 shall be brothers, and in the weary years to come the 
 "Blue" and the Gray" shall together share each 
 other s sorrows "
 
 THE IDES OF MARCH. 
 
 "Andldma!" shouted Ulhugh excitedly, in a voice 
 almost prophetic : 
 
 "Idma the embodiment of all that is pure and holy 
 shall be our beacon star, guiding us to blissful realms 
 of eternal love." 
 
 THE END.
 
 Jfc "III ill II fill/ Illll Illll JIIJI (III III