The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1867-01-10

| starved LOT the SlSllG Vi yOul IdCS, CHc
sound of you voice. never could
have left you if it had not seemed to
me that | could only hope for your
forgiveness by taking my dis race out
of your way. And lett you provided
for. I'm afraid it was wrong to do
that, but | could not resist the teTp-
tation. Yet, sometimes, since I've
been lying here, alone with my own
soul and with God. have thought of
other mems orphans who had lost
their all through me, and wished that,
dearly as I loved you, | had given up
every thing and let you share my pow
erty. as I know you would have done
cheeriully.
AS | did father" and Lucia kiss
ed his brow softly. gave up all in
your name, every dollar; and | have
supported myself ever since you went
away" a-
Thank Godr' she heard him
whisper. with closed eyes, holding her
hand tightly. as if he feared to lose
her again. After while, drawing her
closer, he said, Lucia, my child.
have you forgiven me the disgrace |
brought upon you-the ruin of all
your prospects? YOu were engaged
to be MARI ed when [ left you, and
now you tell me you are alone in the
world You lost all. through me :;
vet you have come here at my sum
mons. Do you love your father,
child?"
Now and always"
Her answer seemed to satisfy him
After that he never asked her the
question again; but after that" was
not long for him in this world.
In the few days during which he
! fingered, Lucia learned, as she had
never known before, how he loved
her: learned, also. to do him justice.
| He had never meant to wrong any
one. When he used the money he
had borrowed in his speculations. he
had believed that his success was GER
tain, that he ran no risk of loss.
When the end came { had humbled
him to the dust, and we'll nigh broken
his heart. Since he left Rye6eld he
had supported himself as clerk in a
brokers' Office, where his knowledge
of finances had made him useful; but
his salary had never been large, and
he had been too broken to rise.
Lucia soothed him, as only such a
tender woman's heart could, and help
ed him in his strivings to draw near
to the Love which is infinite and eter-
nal.
| The last afternoon before his death
he looked up suddenly and said to
her, with CLEAN Of nope in his fading
eyes,.
Lucia, | have one wish. Since |
have been here | have saved some
thing; not much. hut enough to real
ize my longing. | can never tell you
how my heart has pined for sight Of
the old New England hills. think,
even in my grave. that | should re t,
better there. l want to sleep beside
your mother.
Lucia kissed him through fast-fall-
ing tears.
but her heart was too full for many
words.
Just at the last, when he was dy-
ing, he whispered once more
" Lucia. child, remember that you
have promised to take ne home" and
then, as the words died on his lips, his
soul went fOrth-hOnae;; to that good
| home where sin and sorrow never
come.
And Lucia journeyed eastward with
her precious dead, and laid it, at last,
in the old church yard, by her moth
| er's side. The poor. remOrsetul,
broken heart lay under the New Eng
land sod; and for the rest and peace
which had come to it at last, Lucia
Cromyn knelt beside these graves and
thanked God.
1t was Spring then; and as the
Summer went on it seemed to her that
good angel watched over that spot,
so dear to her heart. Some one did
for those graves all that she was not
strong enough TO do A hedge of
evergreen shut them in; flowers star
red the earth above them; and a
dropping willow bent at their feet.
She never found any one at work
there. Whenever she went to them
all was quiet, and the work seemed to
have been done by invisible hands.
A curious feeling restrained her from
asking any questions about it, She
only waited silently, sure that a time
would come when she should under
stand it all.
She had been in the habit of going
there at sunset but one August
morning she rose early and went
while the sun was just rising. As |
she drew near she heard the clip of |
garden shears. Some one was trim
ming the hedge. A step farther on
revealed Squire Estabrook busy at |
his work. She went on quietly and |
stood beside him, watching him lit
tie while at his task. When he was !
done she said, in the low, gentle voice
which was one OF her greatest charms: