Delaware tribune. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1867-1877, 1868-12-03

c Cursing the fate which he had but recentl
s considered cause for sclf-gratulation, h
. went. This worst thing that had happeae,
1 to him in his professional career was this
ne was party in the settlement of the Bent
ly estate.
\ AS he walked along the broad path whicl
Q wound among fine ornamental trees, and mp
preached the house, pausing again and agair
to look back on the river and the Highlands
t he felt the burden and the sorrow of mortal
ily as he had never before in his long lift
: felt them. Down this road the long train o.
! funeral carriages had passed so recently
! nearing to the grave In honor the man whose
} memory perhaps tomorrow all men would
execrate.
! The afflicted widow must of course re-
celve this venerable gentleman who came to
talk with her about business. Whoever else
failed to find admittancc, the doors were
open to him. 1t was not his first visit, and
Mrs. Bently of Beech Grove received him
with c,mposlirc That he should submit to
the torture of lingering over the business be-
tore them was impossible. Such tidings as
he had To convey, Mr.. Cross knew, could
but, after the utmost caution, at last be re-
ceived as If lightning had fallen from heaven.
He had known Mrs. Bently from her girl
hood, and he called her by her own name
the name her daughter bore, when he ad-
dressed her.
Clara" he said, II beieve-I am afraid
i should have declined to act as your law
yer when you were SO partial as to select
your fathers old friend, ii had suspected
how painful duty should be called upon
to perform. And yet you will believe, my
dear, that nobody could wish to serve you
more faithfully, or strive more seriously to
protect your interests or save you pain"
!" You do not know the comfort have
felt, MIR. Cross, in knowing that our affairs
were in your hands. 1t would be terrible
to be obliged to think of business Just now,"
answered the widow.
MIR. Cross was silent. He saw that, 50 far
from suspecting his meaning, she had not
even heard the note OF warning in his words
She had supposed that he was merely apollo
gizng for intruding on her solitude. As he
looked at her, so fair and gracious, and still
so young, and reflected, ''Bently was u
coward, but he loved this woman, and he
had the unmerited honor of knowing that
| she loved him." tears trickcd down his
cheeks. Mrs. Bently saw the tears, and
sudden suspicion startled her. 1t could not
be that in looking over her husbands papers
anything had been discovered that could tell
against his intcgritys 1t might he that
things were not turning out as well as had
been expected: the suddenncss with which
he had been called away, his days work un
finished, made it evident that his affairs
would not be shaped as he could have wish
cd and contemplated. She found that she
must speak, Mr.. Cross seemed to be so much
overcome
"lf you have found affairs very much in
volvcd-he was so unexpectedly taken away
do you think so poorly of me as to tear
to let me know = she asked.
The old man rallied his bowers.
Mr t,...-
man who allowed you to You said lust
now, my dear, must not think so poorly
ofyou as to keep back tne truth. will not
keep 1t back. AS you say, Hosea Bently
did die suddenly, but no length Of time that
could have been given him would have en-
a5led him to put his affairs in the right
shape. am not speaking of money mat
ters. His fortune stands well enough, but
q IS as dust in the balance weighed against
Mrs Bcntly arose, her eyes, which had
been dulled by weeping, flashing fire:
" Are you speaking Of my husband, Mr.. |
Cross 7"
mo, Clara-n0t OF your husband" Ut |
was firm. swift hand that must intlict this |
w0und.) s. am speaking of the husband |
OF Il woman who has waited ill he was in |
his grave before she claimed the property of |
her children"
This cannot be true" Mrs. Bently sat
down again. 1t seems hardly to the pur-
pose to say she was "calm as death" But
what Is calmer than death TIC paleness
OF death was OH her countcnancc: it was a
poor covert she sought in such whirwind
the covert of unbeliei.
Think of my being here 10 say such
words to you? p
"True Mr. Gross, where is that womln ?"
In New York-ready to push her claim"
''Shc can substan'iaie it =
"'rhe evidence is fatally complete
''She will come to Beech Grove, then y
Was 1t possible that her first thought was
one Of alarm? Did she fear lest she should
be disturbed here by The image of this claim
ant:
Il do no! think SHE WILL" he answered,
hestaiing Did she reckon that the roof
which now sheltered her would continue 10
sheler: Alas il would not.
81 could hardly expect it: then must go
to her."
He had hardly time to comment ON that
decision inthis swift way-'There spoke her
father. Ii she goes, it will be the best thing
for her cause there isn't woman on earth
hut would pity her'-when Mrs. Bently,
reaching forward to touch the bell upon the
table, fell beside it insensible. Mr.. Cross
laid her upon the sofa, and it seemed rather
by some sense of the strong necessity
upon her, than by any effort of his that
she recovered consciousness.
II must see her." were her first words,
MY child.n Her voice touched a higher
key, for she saw Clara passing through the
hall. MIR. Cross turned swiftly toward the
door A step forward, and his arms folded
around Clara's daughter, and he kissed her.
''My dear girl" he said, sit is u great
thing to be loved as everybody loves y0u-
n n pan |
are some things which it is necessaryto talk
over together"
The gentleness of his voice, the tender
ness of his manner impressed her. though
she found gentleness and tenderness every
where. After that rude storm which had
torn away her pride, her joy, her father,
how balmy soft the air Still, it was under
the impression that some other and new
pain or anguish might be in store for her,
and that he had recalled the fact that loving
hearts were as wall around her to assure
her in the fresh assault o.! disaster, that she
allowed him to lead her into the library,
where her mt. her awaited her
Mamma, what is 1t p she exclaimed the
instant her glance fell upon her mother, who
ii was evidant had passed through some ter
riblc ordeal which was yet reserved for her.
self.
'Be brave my child youhave your moth
ct Stlll. OOnlc nere; Sll uOWn.
Awestruck and terrihed, Clara obcyed.
Then Mrs. Bently looked at Nr. Cross.
Vas there no mistake? Need this havoc
be wrought? She saw In him nothing to
assure hope-only distress and anguish
And SO she went on:
II would spare you every pain mother
would spare her child, but the worst pain
of all we must endure together. We must
die to the past-we who have been looking
to II as the beautiful sepulchre of our dearest
joy"
Clara turned bewldered from her mother
Mr.. Cross sat down beside her and drew her
into his arms, that she might feel the shelter .
and protection of them.
1T is true" he said d-'true, Clara. You
have your mothers spirit. Die, my child
die to everything in the past except to tue
recollection that you have loved, with a
faithful, duliful love the living and the dead"
Everything! / cau die, mother, to eve
rything except to his memory" ,
First of all to that, my child"
"Never to that-never" 1t was, then, to
him thew had referred In this strange speech