The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1870-01-07
not need To raise her head-~he knew

more lllan before. titu Won not >pu--tl
me, YOU would never have known un
der whose roof You had been all thi;
while; nor should / have KNOWN h'
went on, his voice falling him some
what, .'whOm had sheltered"
For some seconds there wss silenc,
in the room, then, "Have you any be
longings?' he suddenly asked, "whC
will be anxious at Your long absence
| will send messenger if you viii
tell me where and To whom"
Ii had cost him much to ask th'
question. 'None"
He felt strangely relieved by the an
swer; why, he did not know. oar,
you a widow?" ~ was never {
wife"
He said no more, but stood for some
time silently before her. His usually
firm set mouth worked ominOusly
and some tempest was brewing in his
inner man; but he beat it down, anC
said, after some time OF silence: "SCt
that the child wants no comforts, the
dOctorwill, | hope, beheTe tomorrow
il Is difficult to get one to come, we
are so out of the world. / wish the
boy a good recovery. Farewellp He
/ luIuGtl 10 lCslNt Tie IbfDlls
"Paul" she cried, "PaulW and she
stretched out her hands implOringly
after him. She understood that he
meant this to be q farewell forever; he
did not with to see her again; and yet
she felt through it all that he loved
her still. She could not bear to see
him depart thus.
"Hushup he said, turning round,
with his hand upon the lock of the
door, "yOu will excite your child;''
with that he opened it and vanish
ed.
a fearful time followed this. The
child lay for weeks i'll of scarlet fever,
combating between life and DEATH
Beatrice never left his bedside; neith-
er she nor the doctor dared venture a
hope for his recovery.
As for Paul, he went about his daily
work steadily and sternly as usual,
but there was a greater thOughtfulneSs
about his mouth, and u deeper sadness
about his eye, and his people dared
approach him less than ever. For in
wardly fierce battle was raging. He
loved Beatrice still, blindly, de-
vOtedly; the sight Of her had reused
learnt that she was free, could still be
his, and yet he hesitated. All would
he forgive and forget, but could he for
get with the child daily under his
eyes? Perhaps he might die in this
fever; and that was his one hope and
desire, that the child might die.
He inquired constantly as to its well
fare, and if he heard it was worse, a
fierce pleasure would shoot through
his heart.
At length, one day, when he was re-
turning from his work, he met Beat
rice in the little wood behind the
house. Her face had become thin and
drawn with care, her eyes were sunk
and red with weeping, her whole as
pect piteOus. The nurse had sent her
into the air, declaring that if she did
not 90 out, she too would be i'll, and
then what would become of the boy.
She moved along the walks like sad
spirit, and when she saw the tall figure
approaching from the opposite side, she
started and turned paler.
'HOw is the boy?" asked Paul, COM
ing up to her.
"He is dying, / fear; and Oh! can
hands in her agony OF distress.
When Paul saw her grief he felt
ashamed ofhis wicked hope. Was that
true love, he asked himself, to wish u
grief thus intense to her whom he adj
Ored above all else in the world? No,
and il was not worthy of a true
heart.
''Let me see him." he said, sudden
ly. 81 have had much experience of
illness during my lonely life."
She led the way, and he followed
As they opened the~dOor, the nurse
mOtiOned them to silence, her finger
on her mouth. "He sleeps" she whis-
pered, 1--WE must not wake him. This
is the crisis" she murmured, turning
to the forester: "either he will pass
away in this slumbeT, or recOver.n
They softly approached the bedside.
Beatrice kneeled down and buried her
head in the clothes. She was praying.
The nurse slipped softly out of the
room. Paul stood ut the foot of the
cot and looked on. The child'S little
face, which Paul had last seen rO bon
ME and bright, was worn and thin;
his breath was so softly drawn that at
small arm lay on the cOYerlet, its thin
hand was clasped in its mothers
grasp. She remained on her knees
immOvable, he knew not how long;
only by her deep-drawn signs he could
see how earnestly she was wrestling
and implOring for the little life that
lay there so pasSively.
The binding tears welled into his
eyes, the first tears he had shed since
he had learnt her umtruth towards
him.
Thus thenight passed; he still stand
ing; she kneeling. When the first
cold streak of dawn fell into the room
the child awOke.
mammal" he said, feebly.
Suddenly she arose. ''My child''
she exclaimed. "SavedI Thanks be TO
God"
"Amenw answered a deep voice at
the foot of the bed.
She started. "Paul, you here?"
81 have been here all night, and my
prayers have gone up to Heaven with
yours for the recovery of your boy
May / say your bOy?"
She disengaged one hand from the
ohild's neck, and gave it to Paul. He
took it and pressed an ardent kiss OF
its attenuated fingers, and theu he kiss
ed the child.
"YOu must go now, dear, Paul, +" said
Beatrice, softly; 1--WE must not excite
the boy.n
"NIay 1 not stay?" he pleaded, his
tone gentle and the old tender look in
his eyes.
'Not now, Paul, not just now. We
will meet sOOn."
"Never to be parted again?"
'Pray Heaven, nOw
Six years later, the relator of these
incidents visited the BrOckenfeld and
put up at the Oderbruck. Walking
in the Forster's little garden after dim
ner, she saw him sitting there, smOk-
ing Il long pipe; by her side bright
woman, who held u child upon her
knee, with whom the father was play
ing, and which crOwed merrily at him.
A little beyond, a bigger boy was
coachman to small girl, haInessed as
his horse. They We're running in full
gaIlOp towards their parents, unaware
of the presence of strangers.
"See, papar cried the elder of the
TWO, 'b6dITlCe anu IldNc bttn loI a.
long trot, and have brought back
some of her own flowers. u
They laid a small bunch of wild came
las before their mother.
At that moment Paul Smitt per-
ceived his visitor, and rising politely,
said he hoped she had been content
with the very frugal hospitality it was
in his power To offer her.
"Oh, quite" was the reply. as
that your family, Herr Forster? You
all look very happy-mOre happy than
/ have seen most people look in town.
How do you manage to exist up here?
And TO be happy?"
zone is happy wherever ones be
loved are. Is it not 50, Beatrice' Ia
fervently, turning to his
wife.
A Lesson in Gardening.
In a certain village there is a young
lawyer who took lessons and degrees