Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1843-08-04

ever since his departure (; but in view OF
death, his every thought was centred on that
exied son-exiled when it should have been
his duty and his privilege to have prevented
it, and he felt that he must see Edward once
more, that a reconciliation must be effected,
that his dying lips must pronounce his part
ing benedlction on his restored CHILD, ere he
could depart in peace. And the anxiety,
the impatient fear with which he had awaited
Edwards arrival, served to hasten the pro-
gress of his disease into fearful rapidity;
sleep had been driven from his eyelds; for
what opiate could ull that anxiety, or Danish
that lurking fear! But "A few hours now re-
manned to him. His eyes grew more dim,
and his pulse beat more family. Exhaustion
had at last thrown him into broken SUM
Der momentary rest, to be shortly bro
ken by the pangs of death, then 10 be sue
ceeded by an eternal sleep.
The attendants moved noiselessly, for it
was important that his slumbcr should be
proracted as long as possible. Edward was
momrnlarily expected; and till then, they
hoped Mr.. Carwood's rcpose would remain
uninterrupted. A carriage stopped at the
door, in moment, Edward was on the step;
and, in moment more, clasped in the ex-
tended arms, and believed with the repent
ant tears of that mother, whose voice had, in
days past, driven lin in sorrow from her
roof.
, A consciousness of RICH, had supported
: Edward, and he had prepared to see his
. mother with feeling of injured pride, but
, that feeling vanished. Their commingled
, tears fell upon the record of their unhappy
S separation, and boted it out forever.
With what feelings did Edward cross the
e threshold Of his fathers chamber! What
f a tide of associations poured back upon his
!, mind as he gazed once more on his fathers
= face That worn and pallid countenance
!. spoke volumes: and, amid the vicissitudrs
/, Of after life, its impress was wildly renewed
!. in Edwards soul.
: Mr.. CIairwood heavily Enclosed his eyes.
: They met the earnest gaze of his son.
: SIS it you : You are then come at last,
: or do still sleep! O, God it is then, yes
: my son'-and he fell back upon his pillow.
C YES, father have come at last, come to
ask forgiveness and be reconclled.'
= forgiveness, my son Yes, | wished
If you TO forgive me, but feared it would be
e 100 late
II Father, you mistake spoke of my self,
ID not OF you. | come not to forgive, but to
'c seek forgiveness at my parents hands,
at ''Tis WELL replied Mr.. Cla'rwood; 'but
e fear the greater debt is due from me.
t. was just dreaming that you had come-when
l. awoke, thought that heard your voice
h again, and that we were friends once more.
C 1t is so, Edward is it not2'
Yes, father
a 'Then my last and brightest dream is re-
Of alizcd-realIzed to the utmost-'tis all ask.
h Edward could not reply, his heart was too
e full. The thoughts crowded too thickly up
n for utterance.
ID Edward continued Mr.. Clairwood.' I
am dying. feel already the icy thrill of
y death creeping over me, and shortly, will
lie be gone, beyond the reach Of earthly ills and
" sorrows''
l. Do not talk thus, father, interrupted Ed
ID ward.-'l hope that you will recover yes,
l. hope that You will see many happy days yet.
Never, my son, my hours numbered
s yet, tell me one thing, make me one pro-
y mise
is what, father 2 Edward eagerly inquir-
is ed.
rs That you will forget every thing that has
happened; that you will love YOUR mother,
as though there had been nothing to inter-
l. rup, that affection which should ever subsist
n between the parent and the child. Do YOU
$. promise 1t is my last request
IS Il do, do replied Edward and, al
y though unused to the melting mood. his tears
d fell fast and warm upon his fathers hand.
= Mr.. CIairwood lay for some moments mo-
J. moiionless. His lips again parted as if as
r. saying to speak but the sound that issued
II from them were narlcuae. A gurgling
noise succeeded, aud hurried gasping, as if
, for brei h.
Edward hastily raised him. that he might
|. breathe more freely, but in tain. Death had
= placed his signe, on the sufferers brow. He
Il hcaved deep sigh, and the dreaded agony
e was over. Earth had claimed the tribute Of
:. his mortal body to mngle with her DUST and
u with that sigh the disembodied spirit had fled
: beyond that bourne from which no trareHer
, returns.
, Edward Clairwood redeemed the promise
made TO his dying father. He loved his
mother with all the strength of tiIial affection.
, By the testamentary disposition of Mr.. Clair
wood, the greater portion OF his property had
been bequeathed TO Edward.
Accompanied by his mother, he returned
to Mr.. Granville's family, claiming the hand
Of his afianced (the lovely Lelia) not as
once an humble, uniriended tutor, but as h
equal in birth and fortune. They were mar
ried; and, at this hour, in the society of her
son and daughter, and in the family with
which they are connected, Mrs. Clairwood
finds and enjoys that unalloyed happiness
and tranquility of mind, to which, through
the long morning Of troublous life. she had
been an utter stranger. 5. S.,
Charlottesville, April, 1913.