National opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1865-1874, 1867-03-08


ed. But when he saw the new
conner he reused himself at once
from his dreams, and became the
alert, watchful man of business. 1t
was his confidential agent, Solomon
OsgOOd, who was charged with SUI
perintending his real estate and col
lecting his rents. 1t was the first
of the month now, and there were
accounts to be rendered in. They
seemed satisfactory for the most
part !; but at last Mr.. Richmond
said, in an inquiring tone
Sand the Widow Matfitf p
"Ies, | was going to speak about
her. hope you will be willing TO
wait little for her rent. She has
been in trouble"
"Hum. yes! So she was last
month, and the month before, and
the month before that Mr.. Rich
mOnd said rather curtly.
every true,n the agent answered
gravely, ''Last month her little
Jack died, and the month before
that he was very sick; and now the
only one she has left seems trying
to follow in his brothers footsteps.
Sickness brings deal of expense,
and comes hard on poor folks"
Mr.. Richmond considered little !;
and then said with quiet determina-
ton
III don't want to be unfeeling.
Osgood, so I'll not tell you to send
her off now; but must say plainly
that ! don't want such tenants. Civ
ing i'll charity is one thing, and rent
ing houses is another. When |
want to give | can give bnt | want
the interest on my investments,
when it comes to be matter OF bu-
siness.H
an be security for Mrs. Mat1it-
you shan't lose by her. the agent
remarked in the tone of one wound
ed a little. His employer looked at
him curiOusly.
"You're philanthropist, Mr.. Os
good" he said, with smile rather
satirical, yet not altogether unkind-
/ ly. II don't care about your under
taking the burden of my bad debts.
Seven children, and a wife none too
strong. are about as big a load as
you can carry. Didn't ! say you
needn't send the woman off now
Let her stay on, through March,
whether she pays or not and see if
YOU can't find me another tenant by
/ tie first of April
THANK you, sir, as to Mrs. Maffit's
part of your remark," Mr.. Osgood
answered. "As for that about me
and mine. | think Mr.. Richmond, L
YOU had the same burden to carry.
you'd find it about the pleasantest
one YOU ever bent under"
There was an air of sincerity in
his manner, a beam of secret delight
in his look, which fingered with the
Hon. Pierce Richmond after his
agent had gone away. He wonder
ed if there were indeed SO much
blessedness in family ties--if it
were good for a man to have wife
and mouths to look out for. And so
specializing. the bitteIest memory in
his whole life came back to him
the one sole time since his mothers
death when he had loved some one
being beyond and apart from him
self. 1t was score of years age
and he was forty,two then, and she
the loved One-iust twenty. He
met her in a lodging house, where ht
had q fashionable suit of first floor
apartments, and where she lodget
in the attic, used now and then t.
meet him on his steps or in the hall
until he learned to think that day
dark, lit by no gleam of her dur
hair. How well he remembered the
face, sweet, yet spirited-''the rec
young mouth, and the hairs young
gold"-the dainty 1.-the figure, th'
springing step, the musical, low
tones. How it was he hardly knew
but he, the cold, selfish, hardened
man of the world, felt swelling ~
, in his heart a fountain of sweet wa
tcrs-and then, when he would hav
slaked at it his souls thirst, beaut
full and deccitful as mirage it van
ished, and his heart, lacking it
sweetness, turned to desert waste.
:. For not all his gold beguiled tn
: little girl he loved into wedding
1 him. She looked into his face wit
f her pure, honest eyes, this JUL
e Winstcd, and told him some truth
: hard to bear. ilc was old for hi
II forty.two years, and she told hiI
S so hard and cold, used toliving b
| himself, selfish, even in his wish t
/. bind her youth to his stern, middl
# age. Receiving his proposal of ma
n riage as an attempt to buy her lresl
$ ness and beauty, with her pitiles
Il plainness of speech she made hil
II feel ii all.
Il The next day she left the hous,
s and since then he had never see
r. her. But he had never forgiven he
!, She stood in his memory as his en-
II myths one enemy, for curiousl
l. enough he had made no other in II
IS course of his life. But toward h,
his resentment was as keen as @
k the day when he had been so stun
q by her indignant refusal to give hi
7, her hand, when, as she said, !
l, must know in the very nature I
Z things it was impossible for her
le give her heart. He remembers
n. her pitilcssly well. II he had bee
an artist he could have painted Il
IL DIM OOld of the long. fiIe hair ri