The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1860-05-21

,.~ and dense mass Of pale grey 70 the north.
west afforded every prosrect Of more rough
weather ! 90 mot snlnk any one could loo.
Merton, a. she Sat making the hot coffee In the
snug study, clad In rich gArmente Of sober hue,
a. beatted her ags and pure. Her father was
chair. His head was very white and quite
bowed on his breast and his long thin nnes ~.
beat time rsstlessIy. She spoke only aew
words 70 him now and then, and tney 1917 1917
to : cniid. Al last s she settled herself In her
own lounging chair, cnt oren, me me ths new book
found its resting- place on the roo,, rnmhiins
~ c.,rs~ -" vheeIs close TO the house, and
| then a hait But there was no magnetism IN
| the air Ia warn Margaret OF any one oelng near
her. more than that gentle shadowy man whom
| sha had tended for many years. Then
! footstep In the hall, and hand on the door:
| Even the seven sleepers awaked at last, and
when the door opened Margaret started to her
| feet, fully prepared to deny that she mad been
| otherwise than wide awake. She heard a deep
voice say, ~ know the way" then came face
bronzed fiery red, full blue eyes, not altogeth-
er strange to Margaret-at least sne mad seen
such in her dreams-a mass of hair, beard.
moustache, and whiskers of q hue which was
pale only beside the face. All this surmounted
figure huge in every way, but especially in
breadth. Margaret stood wond Ter the
Mariner, 'he fixed her with his glittering eye"
and as he performed this operation he drew OIL
wrapping after wrapping, and at length stood
con fessed as Stephen SellOn, weighing at least
sixteen stone. He was not tall man, so ap-
pearances did not assist him on that score.
Then the blue ewes danced with amusement
| the white teeth showed themselves, and
hearty, full sonorous laugh broke the ice.
margaret don't you know me!' He stepped
| forward and kissed her, at first lightly on her
cheeks, and then putting her back, with ano-
| Their glance and another laugh, he followed
Lei. GA mo
| so fast and warm that Margaret had not real
| w presence of mind to resist 81 ascertained
| you were still Margaret Merton, or you
would not have seen me here tonight. Is this
your father!"
| She led him mp to the old man gently
"Speak tenderly to him. Stephen, he is quite
childish now" Something in the subdued
| womanly tone of Margaret's voice, gave
Stephen a choking sensation; however, he
cleared his throat, and shook hands with MT.
Merton.
| The poor gentleman looked up with his wan
| apprehensive smile. "You'll be kind to Mar
garet, sir, you'll be kind to her." and then he
ram bled on incoherently.
! Margaret had not forgotten how to blush.
aud at this random speech OF her fathers the
| blood rushed up in torrents TO her hair roots
| leaving a transient crimson on her throat and
| neck. Apparently this enchan ted Stephen he
ru bbed his hands, and arranged his taWny
beard, and sat down, and watched Margaret
| as she poured out coffee for him, with the
bright, cheerful, trusting look of twenty years
before.
"Ah, Margaret" he continued, laughingly.
az swore that were you faded, worn, and
| weazen, / would still be true; but you have
not fretted for me, you have not the assurance
to pretend it. Am absolved from my oath!"
Margaret raised her eyes with a malicious
glance, signifying. Eft tn Brute!
Yes, krow,"h he added, surveying rather
| ruefully his own ample person. 1--WE have
both much tc forgive There was no expla-
nation asked, for none was required; they
| both felt supremely happy
Shall we leave them so! All, young lovers !!
would you believe it possible that that happy,
handsome, comfortable-looking woman is
Margaret MERTON who, a score of years be-
| fore, was condemned to separation, uncertainty
| and work for her daily bread or that good
man, SO jovial, frank, and portly, should be
| theexiled lover! Take cosrage-"men die, and
| the worms eat them, but not for love-" They
| had each done their duty, not sadly and stern
| iy, but merrily and well, and their tree of
| love blossoms, though late in life. Perhaps.
one of the things We love best to see, is the
| gentle, grave beauty of some autumn nal flower
| which gladdens our eyes when the summer
has fled, and the unkndly drip of the winter
| rain is at hand and the sky is ashen grey, and
| our mother earth brown and lieless.