Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1857-06-04

her cousin. Eunice's own path was far from
smooth. In her first high-hearted fearesSness
Of poverty, her very ignorance had made her
courageous Now she came to experience how
bitter are those trifling bat gawing cares, tha {
those who have known the comfort of easy
circumstances feel so keenly how wcarying
is the constant struggle to spin sovereign in
to the longest thread Of gold-wire possible
The grim ogre poverty, whom the brave hea It
Of Funce had at first rcpulsed so cheerfully
and boldly, had his revenge by all sorts of sly
assaults But in time she bore them better,
and felt them less and it was balm to all
sorrow to know how much she was loved, ay,
and reyerenced too, as a good and virtuous
wife, Whose price is above rubies," or ought
| to be by her husband And day by day were
their hearts knitted together She, in loving
obedience, yielded willingly, and therefore
most sweetly, bending her mind to his in all
good things and he guiding and protecting
her, as the stronger should the weaker, in Il
union in which neither ought to strive for the
pre-eminence, unless it be the pre-eunence Of
! love
| For two years only was Eunice feted to
know the soreness Of altered fortunes. Con-
science overlook the brother whose sin had
caused SO much pain he died. and restored
all TO the master whom he had deffauded.-
| The master was just man, and dealt equally
well with Henry Tolferstan so that fortune
again smiled upon him. He left the small
house where Eunice had learned the hard les
son Of poverty, and returned to the same plea
SAINT home where had brought his bride
| There, after four years had passed over her
! head, let us look at Eunice, now in the sum-
mer Of womanhood, wifehood, motherhood
| 1t was high summer too on the earth and
| through the French windows of the room
where Eunice sat, came the perfume Of roses
from the garden. Bees humned am ong the
leaves Of the mulberry tree, luring sweet Lily
| from her i b c to her faTorite seat under its
boughs The child looked wistfully toward
her little cousin, Sidney Lester, who was sport
ing among the flowers, and all her mothers
words failed to attract her attention, until the
lesson was happily broken in upon by visitor.
| Lily scampered awav-the unannounced guest
entered and Eunice looked upon the face Of
Sir Francis Lester.
She had never seen him since the day of
the signing Of the deed and time, travel, it
might be suffering, had changed him much
He looked now like man whose prime was
past his hair was turning grey, and he had
lost much of his stately carriage. When he
spoke, too, there was softness in his voice
that it had not before perhaps it was at the
gentleness, even to tears, which Eunce evinc-
ed at seeing him so unexpectedly.
He said he had come on urgent business to
| England he should soon return to Itay and
would not go without seeing Mrs. WolferStan.
After whe he asked after his boy and
then Em;ly's name was on her husbands lips
As he spoke, he turned his head away, aud
looked out of the window, but Immediately
started back, saving, I" I understood-1 heard
that Lady Lester was in the country 2"
She and Sidney returned to-day, but l
feared to tell you they were here" answered
Eunice, softly.
"Is that my boy! / must see him :" AMI
the fathers eyes eagerly returned to where
dney stood on the garden seat, supporting
himself by cne rosy arm thrown round his mo-
theirs neck as he pulled the mulberry leaves
within his reach. Emily sat stil--not the
brilliant Emily Of yore, but calm, thoughtful,
sub lued-even the light OF q mothers love
could not altogether remove the soft sadness
from her face How little she knew whose
eyes were gazing upon her now /" l must
speak to my Sidney" said Sir Francis, at last,
in changed and broken accents. Will you
bring him to me ?"
"They are coming now" Eunce answered
Then I will retire to the other room
cannot, | will not see her" And Sir Francis
with his freezing manner of old, walked away
just before Emily entered with her child.
Sidney, come with me-" said Eunice stoop-
ing over the boy to hide her agitation ; " some
one wants to see YOU"
"Who is it ?" asked Emily.
" An old acquaintance that is, a stranger"
hurredly said Mrs Wolfcrston, so new in the
arr of stratagcm that Emily at once guessed
the fact She trembled violently, and sat
down but when Eunice took Sidney's hand
to lead him away, the mother interposed.
Not so, Eunce yon cannot deceive me,'
she said firmly &C | see it all and no one
but myself shall take Sidney to his father, and
my husband" She lifted the boy in her arms,
suffered Eunice to open the door, went in and
closed it after her.
For a whole half hour which seemed q day
in length, did Eunce sit without, waiting for
the result of that interview on which JOY or
misery, life or death, seemed to hang. She
heard no sound, all was still She hardly
dared to hope she could aot even think, only
her aiyectonate heart lifted up a wordless
aspiration too indistinct to he even q prayer.
At last a child's voice within called loudly
and fearfully. Aunt Eunice-Aunt Eunce
come !" Eunice went trembling. Emily
had tainted but she lay in her husbands
arms /: her colorless face resting on his shoul-
der, and heavy tears were falling on that poor
pale face from the stern eye of Sir Francis
Lester.
They were reconciIed Love had triumphed
over pride, wrath, obstinacy and the husband
and wife, were united with an affection pass
ing that even of bridegroom and bride, for it
had been tried in the furnace of suffering, and
had come out the pure gold Of love.
In the home to which Sir Frances once