The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1859-07-07
THE PROUD HEART i'll nRLLD.
1T LOUISA CHANDLER M0uLroN-

tween two hills, on whose SUBMITS the ash-
trees lifted their green arms 10 the sky all
the long. bright days. as if lmploring a bene-
dlction, or spread them out lovingly over the
white houses nestled around the one church
in that vale below.
But tonight it wore different aspect. \
storm was upon the hills. \ little snow and
hail were borne upon its wings but not much
Chiefly it vas the force of rushing winds,
shaking the leaflless ash trees, hurting against
closed windows; swinging the bell IN the old
church tower, till it gave forth now and then
dirgeiike peal, as If the dead were tolling
their requiems
Many homes thee were where the wild
scene without seemed but to heghten. by
the force Of the contrast, the blessed calm
within--homes where smiling infants slept
warm and still, through the twilight in the
soft hush of mothers bosoms,and happy chill
dren gathered round the knee OF father or
grandsire, to hear again some simple story;
or thoughtful ones looked into the fire, aud
fashioned trcm tie embers, brave castles, In
which they were to dwell in the coming
time with. over all. the sunshine Of youth and
hope. Twenty years from now they would
look again into the embers. and see these
fair castles, in which they had never come to
abide, with ruined windows and blackened
walls
'sThe twilight Of memory over all,
And the silence of death Within
But in one house no stories were told to
gladden. listening ears--no soft evening hymn
hushed slumbering babies to rest--no chill
dren's eager eyes looked Eto the emters.--
1t was the stateliest house, by far, in the vii
age--a lofty mansion, cleaning white
through the trees; with the roof supported by
massive pillars. Nowhere did the evening
fire glow brighter out into it looked only two
old people worn and sorrowful, with the shad
ows of grief aud time upon their shrivered
faces--two who forgotten, long ago, their
youth fair castes-who looked back over
wasted fields Of memory, where not even
setting suns rays gilded the monuments built
to their dead hopes.
There they sat silently. They had sat 81
ently ever since the darkness gathered The
lofty. furnished room was lighted only by the
wood fire glow, and in the corners strange
shadows seemed to gather with beckoned
hands and white brows cleaning specially
through the darkness. Toward them, now
and then. the wife looked with anxious,
searching gaze; and turned back again to-
ward the fire and clasped her hands over the
heart that had learned through many trials
the hard lesson of patience.
Judge Howard was stern, self-eontained
man. In his native town, where be had
passed all his life, none stood higher in pub
lie esteem. Toward the poor he was liberal
toward his neighbors Just and friendly; vet,
for all that he was hard man whose will
was iron, whose habits were granite His
wife had come TO know this, even in her hon
ey-moon. The knowledge was endorsed by
her sad waiting face, her restrained manners.
His daughter, Caroline his only child had
learned it early. aud her father became to
her almost rs much an object of fear as OF
tenderness.
And vet he loved those two with a strength
which more yielding natures could not have
fathomed When his child was first put into
his arms, when her rajlhelpless hands CROPPED
blindlv at his own, he felt the strong thrill OF
father-love sweep over him. For The mo-
ment it swelled his soul irraiiated his face,
flooded his heart, but it did not permanently
change or soften his nature. As she grew
toward womanhood. and her bright head
gaucinr in his path, WAS the fairest sight
earth hell, her ringing voice the sweetest
music he never gratifed her whims, nor al
ways Welded to her reasonable wishes.
Al length love came to her She gave her
heart to one whose father Judge Howard
had hated, James Huntly and he had been
Young together, and teud had risen between
them which Rufus Howard's stern nature al
lowed him neither to forget nor forgive. He
had vet 10 learn the lesson holier than phil
osophy, loltier than all the teachings of seers
and sages the lesson our Saviour lived and
wrought, av, and died to teach, Of forgive
ness even for our enemies--prayer for those
who have spiteiullv used Us and prosecuted
us. His former enemy WAS dead, now. but
rot SO the Judges hate. 1t had been trans
miJtcd like real estate, to the dead mans
heir, aud SO forbade his daughter 10 marry
him, and sternly bade her choose between
parents and lover. She inherited her fathers
strong will, and she put her hand in Richard
Huntley's and went torth--she would moi
have been her fathers child if she had not
without tear.
+ From that time. for ten years, her name
had been forbidden word Letters she had
written at first. during her banishnent,
but they had been sent back unopened and
Tor years no voice or token had come TO tell
whether she were dead or living. Therefore
the mother looks shudderiug into the shad-
ow-hauutca corner ia the long twilights, and
aluos: believed that she wv there the face
for which her mother heart had vearned
momentlv. all those years.
Judge Howard loved his wifa-eh. if she
but knew il Every outline of that sad.
waiting face. every thread Of that silver hair.
s3S GE3FeE 10 BE-I I*SA Atstl " LlNl u tlstt TO
ses crowned the girl bride lie hal chosen -
but his lips never soothed away the sadness
OF the patient face.
1t is terrible night he said al len gth.
rousins himself from his long silence. In
the pause after his words you could hear
bow the wind shook the house, sFoaned
among tbs trees, and sighed along the gar
den walk.
Yes. terrible night his wife answered
with shudder. God grant no poor soul
may be out in it shel;eriess.
Amen | would take III my worst enemy
on such night as this
HIS worst enemy but would he have taken
= IN his own child the daughter with bis blood
IN her veins; fed once At his board warm
l. ed al his hearth; Ii this question crossed
, the wite's mind, she gave no u,terancc.