Holmes County Republican. [volume] (Millersburg, Holmes County, Ohio) 1856-1865, 1862-02-06

y
floating off away-away until it was gon
and then his idle dream was broken b
Miss Sophy's voice. a..e.-
! "Polliny's in a great hurry to 60. Sh
expected to stay all the afternoon when sh
came. She's rather queer; don't yo'
think 500 Always thinking the men ar
after her money. / should think sb.
might have known you better than to hav'
made such speeches. Oh dear, what an
l saying? 1 declare 1 talk to you just a
if you were my brother" And Soph,
coughed in girlish confusion.
Grant Ry land wheeled straight round il
front of her and grasped her wrist little
tighter than even she desired, while bis
black eyes dilated as he spoke thickly
speeches! what speeches did She" and
he pointed over his shoulder. "Does she
call me fortune hunter! Does she think
because l am poor want her goldl Tell
me, Sophy."
"Oh, Grant-Mr. Ryland-I ought not
to have said anything to you."
"Once more, Sophy," said he, almost
iercely; "Does Pauline Beaufort think so
meanly of me as that? | will know what
she said.'
Sophy was getting angry-both at the
OBTAINING hand and the deep feelings her
allusion had called forth in her companion
and answered recklessly:
"Yes; said guessed you might bet
ter look for rich wife; and she said,
quite shortly, well, he wont marry me,
can tell your
"Were those her words exactly?" and
the young mans face grew white.
"Well-yes, as near as l can remember.
I don't see what makes you take on SO
about it!'
Grant shut his eyes and leaned back in
the chair one moment, but sprung up
soon with the muttered exclamation
ave been fool, that's all, Miss Sophy;
been dreaming, and l am awake now
Good-byl" and she could see him striding
off down the street, looking neither to the
right nor left; leaving her in state of
doubt whether she had gained or lost.
III.
The widow Ryland was waiting tea for
her son, who staid late to night. The
wood lire burned brightly on the hearth,
and shimmering in its Pickering light the
apoplec,ic little teapot seemed to dance
on the hearth, while the tea kettle furnish
cd the music. Minnie had gone out, and
Mrs. Ryland going TO the window often
put up ber two slender hands to shade
her face as she looked out into the gather
ing gloom, hoping to see tall figure COM
ing through the little gate. 1t came at
last; but the face was so sad and weary,
the crisp curls all heavy with moisture, and
the boots so dusty and travel-soiled that
she started involuntarily. "Why, Grant,
what's the matter? All the world over It's
a woman's question, when the man she
loves looks sick or sad-"What's the mat
ter" "Oh, nothing" And that, too, all
the world over, is mans answer to the
query. "Nothing, little mother, till l
have some tea" and loving pressure of
her hand, and loving smile reassured her.
The dainty meal was over, the hearth
newly swept, and Mrs. Ryland sat herself
down by the hearth anxious and troubled,
while Grant stood leaning against the
mantle, with one hand shading his eyes
which yet looked3 straight into the fire.
light.
"Mother!"
"Well, my son!'
"Do you love me, mother?"
She came and stood beside him, speak k
ing 30 word, but nesting close to his
broad shoulder. He laid his great hand
On her shaded hair lovingly, looking down
On her diminutive stature and little hands
Of which he was so proud.
"And will little mother break her heart
# her boy goes off to the armyG Always
owing her, always thinking Of her, and 81
ways dreaming of the time when he shall
come back to her something better and
greater than now?" 4 '-- @
There was great sob gurgling up,
light chokink Of her throat, and then
yush of tears on his broad breast.
"Motber dear, l cannot stay here idle.
Already have been made 10 feel the bit
erness of poverty-already heard the
'neer flung in my teeth that she, Pauline,
,as said | should never win her and her
cursed wealth"-and be set his strong
white teeth together as he spoke. 81 will
lot go without your blessing. With it
shall find some happiness away off yon-
Ter, where men are living real earnest
ives. Mother dear, you will let me go!"
md he raised her face and wiped the tears
lway.
Her voice trembled yet, but she spoke
n earnest: "Grant, you have been my
brightest blessing. George is gone, and |
annot bid you stay. Bless you, my son,
going or staying, waking or sleep
ng. He can watch you and preserve you
where the battle threatens as well as here.
leave it all to Him. But never, when
'ou lie down by the campfire
vhen the bugle calls to battle, forge: the
God We trust, and then we shall be sure
o meet sometime again-if not here, up
'onder." F 7l
And this was how Grant Ryland's moth
n blessed her child and let him 20.
Pauline Beaufort fingered strangely, the
illagers said, and lingering did not seem
o find happiness. She took long walks
'ver the breezy hills and through the dim
woods, alone, except for such companion
hip as that of her greyhound, "Birch-
ark" whose cognomen, given in merry
mood, was now its name in sober earnest.
)f on the high range of hillocks toward