Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1862-01-23

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Hessy was sleeping very calmly in darker,
yet quieter place. My mother seldom left her
room, and my father hardly ever Quilted her.
Ponto was getting grey; he had long become
q steady, weliconducted dog--he had given
up playing with very young kittens, and birds
might even hop within few feet Of his long
pointed nose without endaugering their lives.
He was considered my dog now; and We would
sit for hours in the window of the study that
looked upon the long aVenue. The birds sang
on every tree in the old place--but dearer
voice than all seemed ever ringing along that
shady walk, and was never tired of listening.
1 was constantly making resolves of forcing
myself out of that dreamy life OF mine. Ever
looking back, was not my soul in danger OF
passing by, unheeded, the chances, the oppor-
tunties, the present ever affords? '-ii -.--
One evening as lay half dreaming, a ser
want entered aud told mt that woman want
cd to speak to me. (" She asked for you or
poor Miss Hester, Miss She looks like lady,
bat poorly dressed, Miss!" told him to show
her into the room, and my thoughts wandered
again. In few moments she entered-a PALE
dark young woman. She trembeld violently,
and the blackness of her dress, the tears we'll
ing into her large eyes, struck me with q
strange sorrow. What could she want with
meH / motioned her to seat, and stood my
soul, unconsciousIy to myself, awaited trial
that would require the nerves braced up, the
whole being 6rm and Selfsustained. The staff
was about to be broken at my feet by arother's
hand, therefore my soul prepared the uncon-
scious limbs and made them selfreliant-
Could get her anything? Was she ill ?"
Mo- Was she in need of any help?" A
faint smile fitted over the pale face" I've
come many long mile to see you, Miss Nat
ty. Forgive me-but / have heard your name
so often from lips that loved it, that seem
to know you only by it. I've come over the
sea to fnd you, and thank God! I've found
you at last; and you don't look like one to
turn me away with bitter words" She stop
ped as if to read my face. What did it tell
her? Why did her voice move me so much T?
trernbled. She continued, Julian"
"What of him?" l shouted, rushing to her
and clutching her arm. What is he to you +?
And my breath came pantingly, and my strong
frame quiVered. .f...
The father Of my child .......
The words came slowly from her lips, each
weighed with leaden weight, dropping oHe
by one upon my heart; and she drew her slight
form up so proudly that my nature bowed be-
fore her. | could not speak or move. | stood
before his wife--his ,Cife! knew that, for
she would never have dared to face me by any
other claim | stood before his week frail wife
"A very nothing now. She had not spoken
three minutes, but the scenes Of many gone-by
years were surging through my brain.
She needed not to tell me he was dead; nor
that the child was his She need say nothing
now, but simply leave me-leaVs me to myself,
humbled, sad, hopeless. If she would only go!
not stand before me with her fearful eyes gag
ing into my dry, fearless ouesl If she would
only turn away, and not look SO beseechingly
so sorrowfuly on mel
81 will leave you" at last she whispered
" He bade me give you this;-he sealed it up
himself the morning he died. Your name was
very often on his lips; he taught nae to love
you-honor you; with his dying breath he
said, May she forgive me! She will love you
for nv sake'" She came nearer and nearer;
/ felt her soft breath stealing over my rigid
form. Will she not go lest l strike her? l
felt her fingers touch me. / felt her eyes and
her cruel gentleness stealing into my harried
soul "You will not refuse his last wish
Cousin Julian's1" That word ibroke all the
ice around my heart; Ii ived-I breathed and
with sad, bitter cry, l fell into her out
stretched arms.
She was wise: calling none, she let me weep
undisturbed. There lay sobbing, and She
like tender mother, half rocking, half Sooth-
ing me-rather encouraged the visible grief
She attempted no comfort-that would have
racked me; so the accumulated, pent-up feel
ng of years burst out of its prison-house, and
arose calmer, because it was now certainty
"A sad one for me--but yet better than feed
ng on false hope.
Full half an hour must have passed ere
grew calm, she all the while grieving with my
grief, anC, knew, praying for me the same
comfort wherewith she had been comforted.-
At last she spoke, taking my listless hand
within hers" have given you the packet,
Natty; open it when you feel you can; and
now-shall 60 away" The look that ac
these words spoke more than the
words. Go swsy!-turn his wife from his
nome, as long as it remained to shelter us?--
Thank God, the nest was not quite empty,
though two fedglings had dropped from it,
and the earth hidden them out of our sight
She must stay; nay mother and father must
know; and | longed, yet dreaded to hear from
her lips of the latter days of my poor cousin.
[ must brave it out; l had kept has secret well,
and now | must keep my oDn So told them
prepared them little by little for the truth
They were weak and aged nowj the silver
cord would easily be loosed, if needless hand
we're laid upon it. Then lead her in-gently,
woman who had stolen what
seemed to me my birthright; and the little
chld-the little forgotten child--that through
all this scene had hidden close in the folds of
her black dress, fearing to move or speak
,rept out as she moved, and, tightly grasping
ler nervous fingers, both followed me to my
parents room. II was a sad, sad time, the mex!