harged with having spurned the love and
sent to a premature grave a man who offered to honor and protect her
through life." "Don't brood over the past, Molly," said Mr. Wingate, a
grass-covered mound in Pine Forest Cemetery rising before him. "Let the
dead past be gone." "I will not! I cannot!" said Molly, pausing. "The
past will spur me to higher aims in the future. I never can forget the
time that Harold came to make a last plea to me to be his wife,
expressing his willingness to make every sacrifice for my happiness. He
had bright hopes of success in his profession. Yet I spurned his offer
to live a life of shame with a white man. You know he went to Macon
afterwards, and there as a physician built up quite a lucrative
practice. He wrote me often; he spoke of his prosperity and his
unhappiness without me to share it. He could not forget me. I tried to
forget him by plunging deeper into sin. It's some three years ago now
since the last letter came, in which he said, 'I am dying! dying! dying
for you!' I tried to make light of it as perhaps merely a jest. But,
Silas, you know that it's quite two years now since they buried the
heart which I had broken in Pine Forest Cemetery. Harold! Harold! If I
could only call you back with those sunny days of innocence. No one
knows but God what anguish I have suffered since you left me. But I was
unworthy of you, Harold, unworthy!" The woman had bowed her head upon
the desk and was sobbing convulsively. "Oh, that you could come back to
me, Harold! Harold, tender and true. How gladly would I accept your
offer now, Harold. You would forgive me, unworthy me." Her voice sank
into an incoherent murmur. Mr. Wingate was deeply moved. He arose and
bent over her.

"Courage, my child, courage," he whispered, soothingly. "You have just
started out to do the noblest work of your life. There are many years
before you to live nobly and amend for the past."

"'Up, faint heart, up! Immortal life
Is lodged within thy frame.
Then let no recreant tho't or deed
Divert thy upward aim.

Shall earth's brief ills appall the brave?
Shall manly hearts despond?
Up, faint heart, up! The blackest cloud
But veils the heavens beyond.'"

These inspired lines caused Molly to raise her head. "I must command
myself," she said, firmly, "for what I have to do requires courage." She
arose and laid her hand caressingly upon Mr. Wingate's shoulder. "You
will warn them,