The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1869-11-26
The Broken Home.
"rRUru STRANGER THAN yicr,oS.

bb<Auuo PtAblihA TtSlucuCt.
The interior OF this house is even more
beautiful than It's exterior. every apart
mcnt being in its way n gem of magniiir
ccnce and refinement.
The library especially realizes the mos
perfect ideal of an elegant and cultured
home.
And vet, Mt the moment we look in upon
him-one August afternoon. rs he occu-
pied his library-thc proprietor Of all this
wealth appeared Of all men the most mis-
cradle.
He was Mr.. Morton Preble, for many
years leading banker Of San Francisco.
II was in vain that the broad bay-win-
dow Mt the south end Of the room had been
opened. giving ingress to the sunshine and
the fragrance Of rare flowers-in vain that
the walls were lined with richly carved
bookcases and paintings-in vain thu
soft touches and luxurious chairs had been
gathered around him.
He was wretched.
lie lay on sofa, in the depths Of the
great window. the wreck Of once
powerful man. His figure was thin and
guant; his face white rs marble; his eve.
having an expression Of woful apprehen-
sion, OF narrowing anxiety, of dreadful
expectancy,
Il was evident nj glance that no mere
ly physical ailment had made him what
he WAS.
BY what whitening secret. by what de
stroying aflliction. had he been thus ago
nized? thus haunted? thus hunted? he SO
noble and good! he SO wealthy and dis
tinguishcd!
As he moved rcstlessly upon his luxu-
rious cushions the pretty clock ON the
mantel- piece struck five, every stroke
seeming TO fall like hammer upon the
heart Of the nervous invalid. He aroused
himself, struggling fccbly to sitting
posture.
.'Oh. will this fatal day never. never
pass?" he murmured; "nor bring us re-
lief
Noticing with nervous start that he
was alone, he touched bell upon table
before him, and called:
Helen, Hclenl where are you?
Before the echoes of his voice had died
out step was heard, and his wife enter
ed his presence.
II left you only for amoment, Morton,
she said, advancing to the bankers side.
"You were doing. think. l wished to
send for the doctorw
She was beautiful woman. OF some
six and thirty years, graceful. with broad
white brows, and loving eyes, in which
the brightness and sweetness of u sunslhny
nature were still perceptible, under ~
grief and anxiety no less poignant than
that eyinced by her husband.
The doctOrv no echoed half reproach-
fully. :,
.sYes, dear" she said. in n calm and
cheerful voice. ~ she drew chair 10 the
side of the sofa. and SIT down. stroking
the corrugated forehead OF the invalid
with u magnetic touch. ale will be
here Immediately. Your last nervous
crises alarmed me. You may become Sc
riously ill?"
Mr.. Prcble bestowed an aifectionate
look upon his wife, but said respondent
ly;
The doctor! lie cannot minister to n
mind diseasedr Oh. il these long hours
would only pass! If only knew what
the day has yet in store for us +"
"Look up. Mortonr' enjoined Mrs. Pre-
bic. with rcverently trustful glance up
ward through the open window ut the blue
sky, rs if looking beyond the azure clouds
therein. "Let us appeal from the inius-
tice and wickedness of earth to the good
ness and mercy of heayen!"
The banker gave low. sobbing sigh.
81 canRot look up, Helen, ''he answer
ed, with n passionate tremor in his voice
"ouly down, down Mt the grave that is
opening before me-"
Mrs. Preble continued to stroke his for
head softly. while she lifted her pale face
to the sunlight streaming into the apart
ment.
look up, Morton always look up"
she again enjoined upon the invalid.
"During all these fourteen years of ago
nv, have not once doubted either the
goodness or the Justice of Heaven. Bless
ed are they that mourn; for they shall be
rejoice more keenly than we have mourn
ed, and that VIC shall come to n glorious
day Of Joy beyond all this long night OF
sorrow"
The face of the invalid lighted up with
an answering glow, and he murmurcd:
GLORIOUS faith! My wife. you are in
deed blessed comforter! Perhaps after
all, you are right"
A knock resounded on side-door mt
this jnnctrrrc, and the next moment DIR.
Hutton. the family physician, for whom
Mrs. Prcblc had sent, entered the room.
He was an old man, portly In figure,
with white hair and beard, but with u
fresh and ruddy complexion, pair Of
shrewd blue eyes, and with an eSuberant
boyishness Of manner that sat well upon
him. He had kind heart and n clear
head. He approached the sofal after greet
inc the husband and wife. and lifted the
thin restless hand of the invalid. feeling
his pulse.
"Quite high fever." he said, after n
brief pause. "Worrying again, eh. Mr..
Prcble? You are wearing yourself out.
Medicine will do you no good so long as
your mind Is in It's present condition. 1
must give you an opiate-"
..Not now. doctor" interposod the bank
or. 81 cannot-must nct-slcep TO day!
/ need to be broai awake now. for can
not tell mt any moment what the next may
bring forth. am looking for the culmi-
nation of all my years Of anguish-for
the browning agony Of the whole. Per-
haps even now. All. what was that2"
lie started up wildly, and then, rs the
sound that had disturbed him was not re-
peated. he sunk back again on his cush-
ions. pallid and painting.
The doctor looked Mt Mrs. Preble with
an anxious. questioning glance.
1T Is the anniversary" she replied to
his unspoken inquiry-"the anniversary OF
our loss"
"Ah, yes" said tho doctor. II remem-
her"
"Yes, it's another of those terrible
DAYS." cried the banker. in hollow whis-
per. "Sit down, doctor, and will tell
you the whole story. lean think Of no
thing else to-day, and am almost wild
with apprehension and anxiety. Sit
down." -irr I... "..
DIR. Hutton drew up chair and seated
himself. his face expressing the double So