The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1866-09-06
"He drove me from the room.o

Il 10y wv nav AHCioy upou US !.
Calculated the visitor clasping hi
hands, and looking upward. His fac
was like ashes. The bitterness of des
| pair was in his eyes. He said no more
but went out 4
Emily dyingl Mr.. Harwood hat
heard without really comprehending al
this announcement conveyed. The ser
wants solemn rebuke surprised him
Alone, once more, the binding mist %
passion began to disperse, and the mean
ing of what had just been spoken, came
| into distinct perception. Emily dying
Emily, his only daughter, whom angry
self-will had banished because Of mar.
riage he. did not approve; and dogged
pride kept now, for over three years, ii
banishment from the old love and the
old home. Emily dying! "a
| He stood very still-indeed, quite
motionless-in the spot where the SER
want had left him, the red signs of pas
sion gradually fading off from cheeks,
and forehead. .l s# =
"DyingW lie spoke the word in a
low, half-doubting, husky voice.
Dying!" He repeated the word af-
ter a little while, nov with preceptible
tremor, and in evident painful surprise.
A wave Of feeling swept over his face.
His hands and arms moved uneasily.-
He took quick step forward toward
the door through which the servant had
passed /; then checked himself and re-
mained irresolute. ,,,- ;s
"Jane !" called Mr.. Harwood, at last,
in a sharp eager voice. : 4
The girl came slowly out of the par
lor. p
''Has he gone ?" asked the father 3
eyes, sir" af1'iil9l, 5taj's91 j.
$50 quickly to the door and call him
back. h If Emily is'' laa;t s.
Jane did not wait for him to finish
the sentence but ran along the hall to
the street door and opening it, went
out. She was gone for several minutes;
then came back with severe disappoint-
ment on her face. rf T
II couldn't see him anywhere, sir
He was gone clear out of sight. Oh,
dear! [ wish you hadn't been so hard
on him. Poor Mrs. Stanton! She may
be dead before we can find her.
"Do you know where they live ?''
asked Mr.. Harwood, coming halfway
| down stairs.
"No, sir. He didn't say" 1
"Can't you find out 2" Mr.. Harwood
manifested considerable agitation.
II have no way of finding out, sir. -
Oh, dear! If you'd only listened to
me! Poor, poor Mrs. Stanton! She'll
die all alone" The girl stood wringing
her hands and weeping. b
Mr.. Harwood went to his ROOM, con-
sciencc-sm.tten, and with the old, long
obstructed love for his child flooding
back upon his soul. Dying! The word
was constantly repeating itself in his
mind. 1t seemed echoing in his ears
from every corner of the apartment
Dying! How sharply the tooth of re-
morse began biting into his heart. She
was OF delicate organization, like her
mother, who had long ago been hidden
from him in the grave and, therefore,
in danger of disease under hardship,
privation, and such mental suffering as
must have followed her cruel Danish
ment. 24tL
Night passed, and the morning came.
But Mr.. Harwood had no clue by which
he might find his daughter. For three
years he had kept every avenue of In
telligence in regard to his son-in-law,
and daughter, obstructed. They had,
many times sought to approach him
many times implored his Forgiveness
but he had turned from his daughter al
ways in anger, and from her husband in
scorn. A whole year had elapsed with
out intelligence, and now word had
come that Emily was dying. But
where was she? Pity and forgiveness
were in his heart, but he could not go to.
her. s,i''H * 2 sssais' e's' ssi'4 -
1t was all in vain that Mr.. Harwood
set inquiries on foot Immediately on
going out. The day, advanced to noon,.
mad still no clue was found. At three
o'clock the afternoon paper came in: AS
he opened it, his eyes fell upon the
deaths. The first notice was in these
brief words - Emily, wife of Henry
Stanton, aged twenty-three' This, and
no more! Mr.. HarWood did not start,
nor groan, nor, indeed, make any exter-
nal sign. But barbed arrow struck
through his heart, fixing itself beyond
any surgeons skill to extract. He was
still holding the paper in his hand, when
a woman, having the appearance of an
Irish domestic, entered, and gave him
letter, She looked at him in strange,
repulsiye manner. 81.
4 aWhat is it?" he asked.
s. ssRead it !" she answered, abruptly.
He tore open the soiled envelope and
read: s .i'ss ~
"Y our daughter lies dead at my house,
No-Elm street. Will you have her
buried, or shall it be done by the Guar
dams Of the Poor
MARY WoRMLEY.,
"Is there any answer, sir 2" Mr..
Harwood sat SO long, with his eyes on
the letter, that the servant grew impa-
tient Her question brought him heav-
lily upon the sharp pricks. s.ss
NV Where is Elm street ?O he asked.
His nearest friend would scarcely Have