Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1845-11-12
1 q 1915

d HI y zs 645 D.
4 of anxiety. A
4 s II "A le lnutes passed, and they
4 4 n oEe iIiFlle parlor-C harle.
i 4 I! Ellen looking pale
had 6s said in husky
4 Hlnsps e!l tlle ool opened and the
/ fqQ! |ls d slow; dignifiec
s{ef llsl c ~ but serene, and he,
u ind its full height
4 Charles started forward, but the in
stantly raised hand .and forbidding as
pect oil ms m other, restrained him.
Don't come near me- she said cold.
ly-'you have done that for which ]
shall never forgive you. Go at once
from my presence, with the mean. .spir.
lied creature who has dared to sup
pose that | would acknowledge as nv
daughter one who has corrupted and
robbed me Of my son. Go! we are
mother and son no longer. l dissolve
the tie, Coz
And the mother whose assumed
calmness had given place to a highly
excited manner, waved her hand i'm.
peratively towards the door.
Ellen, who had started up the mo.
ment Mrs. Linden appeared, now came
forward, and throwing herself a. her
feet, clasped her hands together, and
lifted to hers her sweet pale face and
fearful eyes. For an instant the moth
er's face grew dark with passion, then
she made movement as if she were
about to spurn the suppliant indignant.
iy' when Charles sprang before her,
and lifting Ellen to his arms, bore her
from the house, and placed her, half.
fainting, in the carriage that stood at
the door. A hurried direction was
given to the driver. who mounted his
box and drove off to hotel, where
they passed the night, and, on the next
morning, returned home to the city they
had lett on the previous day.
1t was long before smile lighted up
the countenance of the young bride.
In silence she upbraided herself for hav-
ing been the cause for estranging from
each other a mother and her son.
1T was wrong she said, in a sad
tone, when,after the passage ofa month,
the subject was conversed about be.
tween them with more than usual calm.
ness. You should have, first of all,
written TO your mother, and asked her
consent.
But knew she would not give it.
| knew her peculiar prejudices too we'll.
My only hope was the impression your
dear face would make upon her. was
sure that for her to see you would be to
love you. But ! was mistaken
'AIas! too sadly mistaken. We have
made her unhappy through life. Oh!
how that thought distresses me-
She deserves all the unhappiness she
may feel. For me, do not pity her.
Charles Linden said this with good
deal of bitterness.
oh! Charles, do not speak so; do not
feel so. She is your mother, and you
acted against what you knew to be
one other strongest prejudices,' Ellen
said, earnestly. i do not feel angry
with her. When l think of her, it is
with grief that she is unhappy. The
time may yet come-pray heaven, it
come quickly! when she will feel dis
ferently towards one whose heart she
does not know; when she will love me
as daughter, and l will love her as a
mother
'She does not deserve the love ofone
like you,' was the bitterly spoken reply.
'Ah, Charles! why will you speak
SO! 1t is not right
'lcan no more help it than I can
help feeling and thinking, Ellen. l am
indignant, and must express my feel
ings. What poor substitute is birth,
or family connexion, or standing in So
ciety, for a mother TO offer her son, in.
stead of a pure heart that can love fer
vently. II | had yielded to dictation
on this subject, would long ago have
been the unhappy husband of a vain,
selfish, proud creature, whom never
could have loved. No, no, Ellen. Il
cannot help being angry, if ! may so
speak, at the thought Of such unjust, un.
wise assumption Of the prerogative in
a parent. 1t is God who joins togeth-
er in orderly marriage-not man; and
when man attempts to assume the
place food in this matter, his work is
evil. lwould give my child, were
parent, all the light, all the intelligence
in my power, and then let him choose
for himself. To do more, would be, in
my opinion, sin against God, and, as
such, ] would shun it with horror
In time, the deep affliction Of mind
hat Ellen had experienced subsi-