The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1840-11-13

nate situation am not indebted even at this mo-
ment to you for food and shelter'"
"Call it not Kindness returned Ellen; ''would
that ! could do more. | offer you all have il
you will but condescend to take it, nor need you
lady feel under any obligation whatever for any
thing can do for You. lfit is in my poor power
to render you any service it will in a measure re-
pay the debt of gratitude ! owe to your deceased
parent. You look astonished, but few words
will explain my meaning. When my father lay on
a bed of sickness, from which he never arose, the
little work could procure was insufficient to get
even the food we needed Inmy extreme distress
| applied to your father, and from him received
enough to make our dwelling comfortable Then
when my parents dreary existence was ended,
yours gave to him grave"
| 1t was another act of kindness from that being
Emma so deeply mourned, and brought him so
lorcible to mind that she wept aloud. Ellen's
tears mingled with hers,
IT'S fearful night" said she after long and
painful pause, endeavoring to change the current
of their thoughts.
"Ts fearful night have often thought of the
shipwrecked mariner, when sat in my poor grand
fathers cottage by the sea side, nd9heard the
heavy pillows dash against the shore. have Of
ten thought how hard it is to die far from the home
of chiIdhOod-hr from the friends of Our inGn-
cy"
"Death, my dear Ellen, must, under any cir
cumstances, be hard; but believe the greatest
pang-even when the soul is prepared TO meet its
Makers to leave ones friends. IIark! surely
my imagination deceivcs me, or heard voice
mingling in the blast" said Emma, looking fear
fully around the little chamber, but nothing save
its backened walls and miserable furniture met
her view. Ellen rose and added more fuel to the
fire, which soon umed the room with It's bright
light, then said,
81 think, Miss Emma, you had better lie upon
the bed and rest yourself; you must be weary"
"No, dear girl, thank you, not at present; but
do not eRc keep you up, you need rest more
than d0!s,
CO. my dear lady, never go 10 bed in such a
stormy night as this Only listen how the wind
RACES; it seems as if it would tear the very earth
asunder."
The two girls sat gazing in the fire each busy with
her own thoughts They had sat for n long time,
when loud knock at the door reused them from
their revery; they started upon their feet, when n
voice from without kindly asked,
"Is this the dwelling of Ellen Danesmore"
"Who is it that speaks, or what brings slran-
ger to my door at this dead hour of the night for
surely know not that voice'
] am no stranger in these parts yet lost my way
and n kind friend on the moor babe me come here
for he said that Ellen Danesmorc never shut her
door against any one who applied for charity, and
| charity it surely is to be let in from this pcting
storm"
"lIe told you true," said Ellen, advancing to the
door, but at that instant Emma caught her by the
arm excaiming,
What would you do girl? Are you in your
senses' would yop open your door to stranger
at this hour of the night, and we alone and unpro.
,ccted?"
Ellen hesiiated Again the gentle voice of the
benightcd was heard mid the raging element.
which appeared to grow more furious every mo-
ment. She sprang from the light hold of Emma
and while she Unattached the door, said 81 canno
leave human being out on such night as this
be he who he may, he surely would not harm
u.s.
"ITarm you no, by heaven, I would not,
said tall, elegant looking youth as he entered the
humble abode, and pushing aside highland plaic
which envcoped his handsome person he lillen of
his bonnet, whose dropping feathers were drcnch
ed with rain. His eyes fell upon Emma, ank seem
ed riveted 10 the spot. She raised her eyes-h'
sprang toward her-"My God Emma Enfield, ar,
you hcre?" She rose an Vulnerable scream es
capped her lips; and throwing herself into his ex-
tended arms, with radiant beam Of JOY over.
spread her countenance, exclaimed
'Thank heaven, Henry, you are return
ed-r = 80
july %, 1910.