The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1852-12-30
For the National Era.
STORY OF DOMESTIC LIFE.
BY CATHARINE LEDYARL

STORY OF DOMESTIC LIFE,
BY CATHARINE LEDYARD.
CHAP y-Continued
Her father was in the hall when she re-
turned home.
"Why, child" he said, chow could you ven
ture out in the Storm 1t is the most impru-
dent thing ever heard Of"
Fanny sent for me- she answered
81 forgot about that-how did you find
her?D
Much better than expected; she talked
with Inc long time but suppose she is very
low, Notwithstanding Mrs Allward told me
that the Doctor said she could not last more
than few days at farthest"
Poor Fanny it makes me sad to think of
her." said Mr.. Lindley, "Do you make haste
and change your wet things, or We shall have
you sick, too"
Grace obeyed, and in the quiet of her own
room thought over what had passed; but re-
Election was of no service to her. She could
form no conclusions make no resolves Mean
while it grew dark, and she was summoned to
tea.
"Say that | have headache, Calista, and
prefer to remain here or, stay, perhaps a cup
of tea will do me good. will come in few
minutes"
She was quiet and distracted during the
"You look really ill, dear" said her mother,
kindly the weather was very bad to-day
and am afraid you have taken cold There
is little fire kndled in your room, and think
you had better 90 to bed Immediately
Grace withdrew, glad of any excuse for being
alone. Seated by the bedside, she leaned her
burning forehead on the pillow, and strove to
collect her scattered thoughts into some def
mite aim or purpose At one time she would
almost resolve to confess all, and entreat her
parents forgiveness but ever in the way stood
those deceitful words, He is all to me now
that he ever will be- What madness it seemed
to have uttered them Yet she had even con-
graduated herself on that one bold stroke,
which had slenced her fathers inquiries, and
warded from her all suspicion. II II were not
for that single falsehood. But how could she
acknowledge that? Not was impossible
But, again, what if Fanny should betray her
| if her father should know all, without her in
tervention! She would then have not even tn,
merit of repentance. Yet after all, it nigh
be that her last words had frightened FanH,
out of her purpose I; and in that case, all woul(
be well. It would be great pity to lay her
self open, by hasty confession, to the contemp
and anger which she felt assured would be hel
portion when the truth was known. Fanny
cannot last long" she thought "the Doctor
said only few days; and when she is gone
there is no danger. 1t is better to wait--yes
| will wait" A feeling of horror came over
her at the idea of thus specializing on her
friends death but she banished it, by remenl.
bering that it made no difference about the
matter Fanny would not die a day sooner in
consequence and, at any rate, it was no more
than natural that she should think Of her own
interest.
While she sat thus, trying 10 reconcile to her
judgment--not her conscience-the course she
had resolved upon, the hall door opened; voices
were heard, and u moment afterward her
father passed out she knew his step, as it
echoed on the pavement. A feeling of despair
came over her she was sure that Fanny had
sent for him and, if 20, what hope was left ?
She tried to compose herself by thinking that
perhaps friend had called for him or it
might be a message on busness-he often went
out in the evening but it was in vain Unable
longer to endure suspense, she went down,
hoping to learn from her mother the cause Of
iiio uDScuDt. NiTs LUXURY huu fctiTcu loT tHS
night she had been unwell all day, Calista
said and, as the evening went on, felt too i'll
to sit up Grace was obliged to return, unsat-
isfed and anxious
at is all settled now" she said, with a des-
perate effort at calmness. IF Fanny has sent
for him, it is too late to help it, She took up
book, and tried to read but always between
her eyes and the page came the vision of
pale, wasted girl telling in low voice her
story Of wrong and falsehood, while stern
man sat by, and listened in austerest silence.
The hours went on the clock struck late
into the night, and still Grace watched and
waited
At last there was sound, as Of Il key grating
in the lock Yes, her father had come--she
heard his steps along the hall and on the stair
oase--they neared her Room.
Another moment, and the door opened-he
was there One look at his face told that he
knew all, and with choking terror in her
breath she sunk back in the chair.
Nothing like a scene followed that despair
ing sience-when people are in earnest, they
make no parade Of their emotion--they do not
vent their anger or their grief in well-turned
sentences--few words suffice their need. SO it
was now.
Grace remained motionless, her eyes fixed
on the ground, her whole nature concentrated
into shame and terror. Her father looked mt
her, and his face grew more cold and stern.
"Grace," he said, and at the words her
heart gave sudden leap, 81 have heard
strange things tonight; Fanny was not terri
fed by your parting words, It seems, and she
has told me all-your marriage--your cores
pondence-- She did her best TO
excuse you-to make your fault appear par
donable--but it was u difficult task, and need
ed more skill than she possessed. Perhaps you
could handle the subject more successfully"
Grace looked Mt him in wonder this was not
what she expected.
I'll have been gone a long TINT" he continu-
cd: "you must have found it tedious, waiting
here alone. 1t 10 ~ well however you are al
ready up, and can proceed immediately TO
packing your trunks. The Cumberland stage
goes through ut thrce o'clock tomorrow morn
ing, or this morning, rathcr-I have engaged
your passage in il. Here is money sufficient 10
take you 10 N after that, your husband
will care for you, no doubt will be ut your
door ten minutes before the time, and shall ex-
poet 10 find you entirely ready"
He left the r0om-Grace sat stupehed with
astonishment Could this be all
No, he was returning he had re-
lented--if he only would reprosch her. only
show some feeling!