Mountain Democrat., 1857-04-25

| Olu uhyS, Wucn Suc TSaO IL at -HST kHce,
came, like far travellers away from her
lifc's morning, and stood still and re-
proachfully about her. She bowed down
her fair face on the old brown cover and
wcpt, and the angel in her heart lifted
his head and whispered, "Forgive even
as you would he forgiven" There was
long fierce struggle betwixt the good and
the evil in the soul Of Alice Rcade that
night; but there Was new beauty on
her face, the beauty Of peace, when at
last it was lifted from the old Bible.
Well, Alice, what can do for you
this morning!" Mr.. Rcadc leisurely
drew on his glasses as he asked the qucs-
tion, glancing admiringly at the graceful
position Of His wife, as she sat in her easy
chair, her head cushioned on its crimson
back
He wasa portly, pomPous-looking man,
with shrewd, selEsatisfied kind Of phys
iognomy-a fine, well, unreservcd elderly
gentleman, on the whole.
thank you. ] don't want any ything,
Mr.. Reade, unless"
"Well, speak out my dear"
Didn't you promise me new dia-
mond pin, last wcek?"
She looked up from the figures on the
rug with a smile dimpling her mouth
which few husbands would have resisted.
So did, dear child, and / see yon
want it tonight for the party. Well, you
shall have it for two kisses"
"No, shan't, either, for I've pins
enough already; but, d" crossing her hands
coaxingly on his arm, II want tho money
very much, for something else. It's a
great secret; so please don't ask me any
thing about it, only say may have it.
"a thousand dollars to throw away on
a sccret Extravagant Alice" !"
Mr.. Readc drew in his breath, but there
was a smile lurking in his eyes, and his
wife knew all was right.
"Send up the check before eleven,
please, Mr.. Rcade," were the words that
followed the millionaire down stairs.
It was high chamber in dilapidated
brick row, and miserab!y destitute. A
few ashes were smouldcring on the hearth,
and by their side sat shivering, starving
mother and her child.
Mother, mother, won't papa come
home pretty soon and bring me cake ?
asked the boy.
"Ihope so, dear little boy. Oh, if he
can only sell one Of the pictures |" 1t
was pitiful, the sob in the woman's voice,
the tone half hopeful, half despairing, in
which she spoke this. She was young
and very pretty still, even in her pale,
pinched lace, and the sorrow that looked
out Of her large blue eyes. s.-----
There was no great force of character
in her face, it is true You felt it was not
one to meet calmly, defiantly, the great
hours Of life, but it was sweet, womanly,
and oh; so very sofrowful The boy, Of
some five summers, was not like his moth
er. The tone Of his face, from the broad
forehead to his small full mouth, was
stronger and deeper. Even his large ha-
zcl eyes and brown hair were his fathers.
And then think Of the husband aud
father, with his sensitive, asthetic nature,
and his proud, high spirit reduced to this!
Oh, Lucius Brante, it might have been
weakness, sin, but it was hardly strange
that you had gone out from the old cham
Der that day, with these words in your
heart, "Success or suicide!"
The boy drew closer to his mother and
she put her arms tenderly about him, but
he did not speak for fear the tears would
come. With all his rare gifts, the artist
father had never painted SO touching a
picture.
Another hour went by, and there was
the quick ring of feet on the old staircase,
and something in the sound which gave
a new spring of hope to the hearts that
beat low by the dying ashes. The door
burst open, and Lucius Brantc rushed
wildly in and threw heavy purse into his
wife's lap. Was the man mad for he
claspcd her and the frightened child one
moment in his arms and ~threw. them up
triumphantly laughing and shouting,-
while the tears ran down his proud face
as they would down the face Of little
child.
"What does It mean, Lucius? Speak
to mel" gasped tho young wife, shaking
from head to foot.
~ have saved you, Helen Newell
Thank Cod thank God! There is q
thousand dollars in that purse. Oh, it
seems to me as if l must be dreaming, as
if this great, sudden good could not be
true"
"And who was it bought them, Lu-
cius?" asked the wife through her glad
| tears.
The mans name BLESSINGS on it y was
Watkins. Hebought four of my pictures,
selecting them from all the others in the
collection, and paid me two hundred and
fifty dollars apiece! He was plain, or.
dinary looking sort of man, too, appa-
rently not much Of connoisseur in paint
ings either. ButI could have fallen down
at his feet and worshipped him."
Papa, papa, did you bring the cakes"
and the soft cheek Of the child was press.
ed up to his fathers's.
"No dear" gathering him to his heart,
"but will get you q dozen now; and
Newell and mamma shall never be hungry
again. We will have q fire, and such .
supper as we hav'nt had for years. God
has sent His angel when the darkness was
deepest. Let US thank Him;" and they
knelt down there, on the old hearth bricks,
in the gathering night darkness, and the
prayer Of the artist seemed . heart halle.
lujah that must have reached up through
the seRg Of seFaPh- and aFehangel to the
Death White ThroneH
"Well, Watkins, my good man, did you
get tho pictures :"
Alice Reade asked the question with
breathless eagerness, IS she met her serv.
ant at the door.
ayes, ma'am. Here they arc, safe and
sound, four Of EN-" said the man, lust
ling mysteriously into the apartment, and
dcpoSiting the large package on the tahlC