The weekly Anglo-African. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1859-1861, 1860-03-31

me, but-do l never disobey God, ant
where should / be if He measured out t,
me such measures as have measured t,
her ?-Oh, Hannah, l never felt before how
much needed to be forgiven
The mothers tears were falling still ant
fast-she could not answer. There wa
silence for moment, and then again tn,
Judge said, restlessly-" Hannah" and sh,
looked up into his white, moved face
Hannah, could we find her p Do yor
think she lives-our one child 7"
God knows, my husband. Sometime;
| think she is dead | see her face or
dark nights, and it wears look of heaven
ly peace In the winds / hear voice that
sounds like hers, and she seems trying to
tell me she has found rest. But no, mop
her voice kindled-"she is not dead.
feel it in my soul God will let us see her
yet once more. | am her mother.
shall not die till my kisses have rested
on her cheek, my hand touched her hair
believe have promise, Rufus"
"God grant it, Hannah" and after those
words they both sat silently again, listen.
ing-listening-list
They had not heard the outer door open
but now step sounded in the hall, and
the door of the room where they sat was
softly Enclosed They both started up
perhaps they half expected to see Caroline
but it was only their next neighbor, hold.
ing by the hand child. She spoke eager.
ly, in halt confused way, which they did
not notice.
"This little one came to my house
Judge, but | hadn't room to keep her, so
brought her over here. Will you take hel
in p
Surely, surely. Come here, poor
child"
Who had ever heard Judge Towards
voice SO gentle? The little girl seemed
somewhat treasured by it. She crept to
his knee and lifted up her face. The
Judge bent over Ter. Whose were those
deep blue eyes2 Where had he seen that
peculiar shade of hair, like the she'll Of
ripe chestnut Did he not know
those small, sweet features, the wistfu
mouth, the delicate mouth, the delicate
chin? His hands shook.
Whose whose child are you? What
is your name?"
"Grace," and the little girl trembled Wis
IDLY.
"Grace Huntley," said the neighbor's
voice, growing somewhat quivering now
"Grace Huntley. You cannot help know
ing that face, Judge 1t is copy of one
which belonged once to the brightest and
prettiest face in Ashdale'
The old man he looked very old now
shaken by the tempest in his strong heart
as the wind shook the trees without-drew
the child into his bosom, with an eager
hungry look. His arms closed round hel
as if he would hold her forever
"My child my child Y burst like sol
from his lips, and then he bent over her
silently, AT first his wife had stood by in
mute establishment, her face almost white
as the cap border which trembled around
it. Now thought pierced her, quick and
keen as thrust of a sword. She drew
near and looked piteously into the neigh
boris eyes.
SIS she an orphan7 Where is her mo
ther 2"
The Judge heard her and lifted up his
head
yes" he cried, "Where is Caroline
Have pity, and tell me where is Caro-
line"
Before the woman could answer, an
eager voice called, Here, father, mother
here" and from the hall where she had
beenlingering, half in fear, Judge Towards
one child came in. 1t was the mothers
breast to which she tottered forward, and
threw herself down at her fathers feet
Forgive me, ttlher," she tried to say
but the Judge would not hear her The
angel at length troubled the deep waters
of his soul and the wave of healing over
flowed his heart. He saw now, in its true
light, the selEwill and unforgiving spirit
which had been the sin Of his life
He sank upon his knees, his arms enfold-
ing his daughter and her child, and his old
wife crept to his side and knelt beside him,
while from his lips Mrs Marsh heard, as
she closed the door and left the now
united family to themselves, this prayer:
Father, forgive us orr trespasses, as we
bhooO WIZ bAOnpSi oAAob uo
Judge Howard had not uttered it before
for ten years.
After that night the Judges mansion
was not only the stateliest but the happiest
home in Ashdale. Caroline Huntley had
borne as long as she could the burden OF
her fathers unforgiving anger, and when
the weight on her heart became too heavy
to be endured, she had started with her
child for home The stage had set them
down that stormy night in her native vii
lage, and the forgiveness for which she
had scarcely dared to hope had expanded
into a welcome.
The old people could not again spare
their daughter, and they summoned Rich
ard Huntley home. A son he proved, OF
whom any father might be proud, and in
after years no shadow brooded over the
npaaaf,,1 xrbo,o o,ao ,,,o,o ob,1