MARY'S REWARD.
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��on Theodore's face, she said, " You are very kind to us, one of the noblest of friends, but indeed, I cannot rest until you are repaid. I must go to my brother now. I thank you for calling."
" Mary, wait one moment," said he, as she turned to go. "I wish so much to assist you. Will you not tell me what I can do for him or for you?"
"I thank you, but you can do nothing — no one can now," she said sadly.
Theodore took her hand for a moment, then he relinquished it and left the room, while Mary returned to her brother's bedside with a heart that seemed well- nigh broken.
The days passed slowly by, and at last there came a day that brought with it the certainty of life for Eugene, and slowly he began to improve, but it was weeks before he could talk with Mary and tell her what little he knew of that Bad night.
In vain Theodore pleaded with Mary not to sell the house; she was deter- mined, and nothing could shake her de- termination, and there came a day at last when she paid into his hands the sum of two thousand dollars as an equiv- alent for what Eugene had lost. He re- fused positively to take any interest, and after paying all other bills, she found herself the possessor of one hundred dol- lars and a small stock of furniture suita- ble to furnish four small rooms. She rented some rooms in an obscure part> of the city, and with the assistance of Mrs. Wilmot obtained some sewing, whereby to earn a livelihood. As soon as Eugene was able he returned to the store, and, alas! to his old dissipated habits, and soon became entirely unfit for work. I will not try to relate how much his sis- ter — with her proud, sensitive, loving heart — suffered. She was not alone in her sorrow, and often her sweet pale face could be seen amid the haunts of sin and misery, seeking to help those who were even worse off than herself.
CHAPTER V.
" Theodore, I cannot be your wife. I thank you for the honor conferred upon me, but I shall never leave Eugene. I promised my dying mother never to for-
��sake him, and God helping me, I never will." The influence of a fii m and noble purpose lit up her face until it glowed as with inspiration.
,k But you need not forsake him, Mary. I will take him to my home, and together we will seek to reclaim him. I love you truly and have done so since the hour I first saw you. Don't send me away hopeless."
Sadly Mary raised her tear-dimmed eyes to his as she answered gently, a flush passing over her sweet face :
" I do love you, Theodore. If it will make you happier to know it, I am will- ing to tell you — but I cannot be your wife. Do you think I would disgrace you thus? No — no; Eugene is my brother, and if I were to marry you, it would certainly disgrace you to have him an inmate of your home."
In vain did Theo. plead with her ; she remained firm, and at length he left her, his noble heart filled with intense sor- row. The little scene had taken place in Mary's humble little home.
After he left her, Mary sat for a long time with her head buried upon her little work table, her work falling unheeded upon the floor. The " what might have been " arose befoi*e her mind's eye, and she saw herself the happy wife of Theo- dore, and Eugene honored and respected, and in spite of her brave, true heart, a low moan of anguish escaped her. It could never be, she thought bitterly.
Eugene's room opened out of the sit- ing room, and this afternoon he had. un- beknown to his sister, gone directly to it instead of going out as was his custom. He was just upon the point of leaving the house, however, when Theodore had entered, and not wishing to meet him, he remained and heard every word they had uttered. It would be impossible to de- scribe the thoughts that passed through his mind as he reviewed the past and be- gan at last to realize all that his sister was doing and had already done for him. He thought bitterly of Clara Cor- inth. From her hand he had taken his first glass of wine. How well he remem- bered it— the spacious rooms thronged with guests, and the beautiful, richly dressed Clara standing by his side, the
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