Connecticut western news., 1872-05-10
"Have you no relative or friends" asked

MT. Nicholson.
 "Our relatives cast us off many years ago, on account of family misfortune. But there were some friends, who got me my present appointment, and who would have taken charge of Susan. We de- clined, because of that family affair; for Susan thought, and I thought, that it would perhaps be brought up against her, if she mixed in the society tn which these friends would have introduced her. Of course we did not put our refusal upon that ground Susan said that she would not leave me; and I believe they think me very wrong and selfish. I am not quite confident that am right myself; and yet the pride which shrinks from raking up an old shame can hardly be a false pride-can it2"
 It is not an easy thing to decide in moment the degree of pride which every man ought to allow himself-te point out where the Proper ends, and the False begins-to beat the parish bounds be- tween self-respect and vanity. No wonder that MT. Nicholson puffed hard at his pipe in silence. It was evidently no lack of interest that held his tongue, however, for he turned away his head, and his hand shook as though it were palsied. And probably that Harry did not look for 6 reply; he was thinking aloud as much as talking to the other; and presently he perceived this, and said with alaugh-"A pleasant sort of companion I must be, with my sentimental egotism! My ex- cuse is the relief it affords me to speak out, and there is no one else upon whom can inf1ict the ideas which sometimes plague me; for, of course, want Susan to think me as free from care as lap dog And then I seem to have known you all my life; I forget that it is hardly six months since we left the house together one morning, and both walking city wards, fell into conversation. But know that you will pardon me-"
 "There is no need for pardon" said MT. Nicholson. "You do me favor by taking me into your confidence. am a lonely old fellow, who has spent the bet ter part of his life away from his country"
 "Ah! where ?"
 "Thc last few years at Simancas; before that, in Paris; before that, at Gottingen. I am little more than a musty old book worm crawling from library to library :; living so much in the past, as to have lost all connection with the present. You have recalled feelings, sympathies, associa- tions, which l thought were lost to me forever" He paused for while. and then said abruptly" How you must hate that member of your family who brought upon it the shame-of which you speak n'
 70 no, no, now cried Harry. "You little think But I will tell you all about it some day. see that you have finished your pipe; suppose we go down stairs again."
 Sad subjects of conversation did not crop up again, and the rest of the evening, though "musical.'' was not melancholy
 FUTURE.
 One evening in October, Harry Maple son came home at the usual time, but not in his usual state of calm composure. His face was pale, his eyes were sparkling with excitement, his forehead was bathed in precipitation, and he fourished an even ing paper about.
 "What is the matter? 2" cried Susan.
 "Don't be alarmed it is good news my dear; our father was innocentm
 "I know it; dear mamma always said so."
 "Ay, but it is proved! See here. ] don't think that you ever knew the de. tails of the matter2"
 "No; I never wished to do SOL
 "Well, then will not enter into them now. It is sufficient for you to understand that our father was man of considerable talent, who took a high degree at his university, and was looked upon as rising man by the political party whose cause Le epoused. Indeed, for some time he wal private secretary to minister, and it wa. only because of his d-siring a more certain income Gpon his marriage, that he re signed that unstable office, and accepted an appointment which was not dependen upon one set of men going out of office and another coming in. It was position of trust, and large sums of money passet through his hands. We'll, there was wrong doing -embezzlement, downright theft, il the department. Our father could no
 clear himself; his name appeared to fraud
 ulent documents which could not hay
 been used without his signature-in short
 he was condemned-sent across the sea
 lost; for, from that time our mother coul'
 hear no more of him. am innocent,
 he said when they parted "but wha
 docs that matter-the disgrace is tn
 same. l hope to die soon; but if tha
 blessing is denied me, desire to be fol
 gotten, as though I had really escape
 from this den of thieves. I will not dra
 you and my children any lower. Do nc
 speak of me to them-nevcr seek for t
 dings of me-" Our mother prayed, rcmor
 strated, wcpt in vain-he was firm, sayin
 that he knew it was for the best. Tha
 was eighteen years ago, Susan, when yo were quite baby, and so young ths have only the vaguest remembrance ( the calamity and change. We'll, our fatht had 20 more to do with that crime tha we infants had :; man in the same d,
 partment forged his name, and embezzle f the money; he is dying-struck dow with painful disease, which leaves hi1 in full possession of his faculties; and
 his terror he has confessed, and he appea to the family of the man he has wor' , than murdered-to Us-tor forgiveness Here it is-see! Can you forgive hin
 Susan2 can't. Forgive hlm! I wis him we'll and strong, that might hao , my fingers round his throat, and my kn' I [ in his chest, and watch his black so , stifling in his black heart Soul . hope" ..........
 "Harry, Harry"
 ] "Well, we'll, I forgot myself; don't loc , frightened, Susan. It is well that tl wretch has spoken at last, at all event.
 our poor fathers memory will be cleart from reproach and you can stay som times with those good Poynter people, ar 9 sec little society" Susan was protesting that she was qui contented and happy under present ci , cumstances, when she was interrupted l knock at the door, and the fellow-lodg
 entered the room. He too held new :. paper in his hand; he, too, was evident !. under the influence oi strong emotion, f j. he stood glancing from one to the oth with strange yearning expression in l