Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1857-01-02

face. 10 is the son of our old gardener. And
now the look of scorn aud hatred that crossed
the sick mans face was earful. "lf | could
reach him, IL | could knock him down and
stamp the life out of him for his temerityl
Il "Alice, Alice, do not leave me. She is GO
ing, going, to him. could not hold her back.
There are tears on her sweet face, but she
does not turn away.
81 must 90 to our father alone, and tell
him that Alice, the light and the love Of both
our hearts, is gono-fone to the gardeners
son, Harold W ood
j at is done have told our father all, and
he has sworn in his wrath that her name shall
never be spoken under his roof-that she
shall be as the dead to him
so, Alice, Alice, my golden-haired sister,
how we love you! BIT our pride 'ods greater
than our loue r.
And so through the long hours the sick
man moancd and murmured in his wander
ings, as the years of his youth came up from
their burial places. and walked each like a
living presence, before him.
81 The light of the newly waking December
day was struggling gray and gloomy through
the windows when Willard Melen sank into
a iitful slumbcr lie did not wake for sever
al hours and when he did he knew that day
must be his last.
Paul, Paul" moaned the dying man,
"pray for me :"
d And Paul could not for his agony, for, alas I!
his heart had never learned submission to the
will Of the All Father and he had wcll-nigh
forgotten the prayer his mother taught him
in his childhood.
But they sent for minister. and after pc
tition whose childlikc faith and forvency soft
ened every heart in that sick chamber, he adj
jurcd the dying man solemnly, "lf there be
any work you have left undone, If there be
any you have wrongcd, or any you have left
unforgiven, boseech you, in the name of that
God before whom you must soon appear. set
tie these things with your own soul
I A deeper shadow came over the dying face
leave me alone with Paul, said Willard
Mellen
And there, for the first time the young
man learned the history Of his adopted fathers
carly life, of the sister upon whose face he
bad not looked for twenty years.
All was told briefly, amid dying spasms, al
ternating with bitter reproaches, and conclud-
ed with these words
you know my father died suddenly Paul,
and left me all his property, as my will docs
you all mine.
cone morning, less than year afterward.
/ received a letter, and | knew the handwrit
ing was my sisters. Years had only harden
ed my heart toward her, for | always thought
her marriage broke my fathers proud heart
| returned it unanswered. Five years later
'isose another, and lees than six months
ago the last one. Both shared the fate Of the
first. have since learned incidentally that
Alices husband was dead, and that she had
removed to the north with her child That
20 kaa~
"And, now. Paul, | have made my will |
have left you my heir, and il is too late to add
. codci But after 7 am xopc ! want YOU
should seek Alice, and tell her with your own
lips that her brother, on his dying bed ac-
knowledgod the wrong he had done her. and
asked her pardon with his last breath
The young man bowed his head.
"And yon Will mako over to her and her
child twenty-five thousand dollars. You will
have enough left then, Paul"
And Paul promised.
put your hands in mine now, my boy for
! cannot see you, and pledge yourself solemn
ly that you will persevere through every OBJ
stacle, that you will not give up the search
till you have seen Alice, till you have done
this"
And the early setting daylight looked with
its sweet, sad smile into the chamber, and
fickered over the proud head of Paul Melen
as he bowed it to that solemn pledge
The sick man head fell back. slight spasm
crossed his (, atures, and the daylight and the
life-day of Willard Melcn went out together
/, 1t was the last night of the old year--cold
/, and clear and bright with stars. The wind
was intoning its hoarse burial service over the
bleak commons, and the snow had lain a deep
er fold on the roof Of the reddish brown
house. Inside the drit-wood fire was rush
ing and reeling up the black lips of the chim-
/ ney, and filling the room with its beautiful,
wine-like glow, just as before.
1t was very late, but Mrs. Wood still sat in
her great armchair, and Alice at her feet !;
and looking down into the half-lighted room,
the angels saw third, standing very near
them; there was love in his eyes and a smile
on his lips as he leaned over Mrs Wood. O,
is it not the will of the All Father that Death
always should meet us thusi
81 am very cold, Alice is the fire going
QUIT"
The girl sprang up 80, no, mamma l
brought in six large arnfuls from the wood to-
night. Wen soon have it warm enough :"
and she heaped on a fresh pile of sticks, and
then, in the brighter light, turned to her
mothers face.
A change had come over it. For the last
} two or three days Mrs. Wood had been grow
ing leebler but Alice did not dream that the
fading eyes and trembling tones indicated the
parting was close at hand.
: She drew the old shawls carefully around
her mother. "How wish we had candle,
J mammal - sighed the girl. That very day
she had expended the last cent which the sale
of the miniature had brought her
There was loud knock at the door at that
J moment Alice started, but her mother did
not hear Il.
The girl CROPPED her way through the little
} entry to the front door and opened it. A young
} man stood there She saw the outlines of his
tall figure and clear features in the dim star
J light.
3 "Doos a Mrs. Alice Wood reside here; :"
: Eyes, sir" The astonished, half-frighten-
! ed girl thought of the unlighted room, and
stammered out, "lf you have any message |
will deliver it to her. She is very i'll. -
, "But | must see her. ! have something of
vital importance to communicate to the lady"
Poor Alice all the pride and delicacy of
} her gentle nature rovolted at the confession,
but there was no help for it, and it came at
, last, with break of tears, :" We haze no light
IL Me house"
"NO Hqhf I" What a tone of astonishment