, 1865-02-24
The Dupes.
BY G. EvERLY.

Happiness was in the village, nirth was in the
servants hall of the Manor House, and the libra
ry was arranged as had long been customary on
Christmas Eve, yet there was no mirth there;
memory came, not with her soothing, but her
saddening voice, to the little group that gathered
around that blazing CRATE. The aged mother
yet wearing, in thesoftened form oflong bereave-
ment the garb Of widowhood, seemed, while she
looked upon her son. to see in him the Inca
ments ofhis father with loving pride, vet, though
she smiledas she gazed, the smile faded into a
look of pain as she caught and understood the
expression of a countenance, whose naturally
pleasant and hearty sentiment now wore the as
pect of melancholy; as if retrospecton intruded
rebukingly, or bitter recollections visited to de-
press and chill his spirits The wife, whose
hand had uncOnsciously sought his as she sat at
his side, after quick glance into his face, kept
her eyes steadily upon the hoor while the occa-
sional tremor Of the closed and compressed lips
indicated that she did not dare to look upwards
or around, lest her struggling feelings should
burst the bounds with which affection for those
near had chained them.
They were a small, an old, and proud family
lie an only son, with no near connexions, and
they had no visitors to expect or welcome The
one, the OnlyOnc, on whom affection and hope
had centered, bad now been for months an exile
from his fathers house. Bold, high tempered,
arrogant in the knowledge that the family honors
and estates must be his through the force entails
he had deeply and bitterly offended his family by
his wild and selfish habits, and finally by re-
fusal to fulfill marriage contract between his
father ndanother gentleman of ancient family,
fast drawing to a close by which they designed
to unite the boasted ancestry of each in new,
and, if possible prouder line, or even to see the
selected BRIDE had aroused his fathers anger to
such height, that he had been driven FORTH or
rather had fed from his home in rage, and se-
curing commission in. regiment about to en-
bark for India, had seen the bloodiest of the
fearful defeats that overwhelmed, for a season.
the arms of England in the Afghan war. They
knew he was alive and uninjured; from the pub
lished dispatches, at least, they knew he was
not in the lists OF the dead the wounded, or that
roll of doubt and fear-the missing; but this was
all, and, other battles were about to be fought
by Napier, who had assumed command, they
asked themselves was he,still aliye2 Was he
still unharmed? Were his offenses unpardOna-
BILE? Were not they partly at least, to blame
for his foles and his faults 4? Had not neglect
or improper indulgences ripened his errors to vi
ces, and strengthened into habits the mpuses of
a hardy and daring temper?
The door moved swiftly but carefully upon its
hinges, but they did not look up they thought
it was one of the old servants, coming on some
light errand, to give ndreceiye Christmas greet
Il
was smothered in the heavy mass of the Turkey
carpet, and they noticed nothing, until a young
man in the undress uniform knelt between the
Father and the Mother, and, clasping their joined
hands in his pleaded in words half broken by
sob
lts Christmas Eve and have come home,
penitent aud loving-is there no welcome for
the ProdgalY
No words were needed to answer him, as his
,I, lo,, D.
tears fell upon his upturned forehead, and her
kisses sealed forgiveness and reconciliation upon
hs.lips and checks, as his father clasped him to
his breast, and the tremulous voice ofhis grand
mother blessed and praised him. As his pres
ence chased every shade of gloom away, theyas-
sumed the brightness and hopefulness of the
Christmas season, and it seemed, save in the
deeper warmth of manner, that he had returned
an expected visitant after brief efabscence, as,
the tumult of feeling over, he found himself in
the chair lately occupied by the fond mother,
who, now holding one handn her left, while her
rght arm tenderly rested on his shoulder, and
his right hand was clasped in that of his father,
and the glstening eyes Of his venerable grand
parent seemed studying the changes which time
and toll might have made in his face and person.
Am fully forgiven +? he said. II
Forgiven, Arthur, freely, fully, my dear boy.
Yet as | sat here, thinking of the past and
in, that too, had erred--that Twas hasty and
passionate ofmy treatment of you, and too Sc
we're, yes, unreasonable and unjust, in the de-
mand made on your submissionando obedience.
Will you forgive that my sonY
Father dear fatherl No, the fault was mine,
Ishould have explained should
have felt you meant only to act for my good and
if could not acquiesce, at least have dissented
kindly, as was your due. felt this when cool
enough to Think but was too proud to return
and acknowledge the fault and ask forgiveness.
! seized the chance which offered TO exchange
my Commission in the Guards for onein the 20th
and in forty-eight hours was ontheroad
to India, too obstinate to confess my faults, too
self-willed, too much ashamed to write and ask
for pardon.
I'VE were both wrong, my son; both too pas
sionate and hasty. Hereafter, we will both be
more thoughtful and considerate of each others
wishes, feelings and rights,
Thehappy son raised hisfatherIs handstohis lips
and said
And this marriage7' p
Nay, my son, let these disagreeable subjects
rest for tonight, atleast'
Iwould rather, sir, dispose of them at once
Very well, then, that concerns your personal
happiness chiefly, and while ask a favor that
you see the Lady Agatha, leave il TO you to