New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1875-02-14

right hand close upon the carriage doc
with spasm of pain.
This is the home which he loves bette1
than any spot on earth, and this is tn
home that might have been Clare's. Her
he had hoped to die with his grandchil
dren about him, and his child's hand il
his. Tears are but rare visitants to sucf
eyes as his, but they stand thick upon hi!
dropping lids when he enters this ole
home.
He stands at one of the windows in thu
April sunshine, waiting for Victor. 81
looks out yearningly, seeing and think ne
nothing of the beautiful, pleasant home
Illness of the room itself, because he car
see the river on which he and Victor's
father used to row as boys, He can SEE
the very oak under which Clare's mother
sat on that morning when she promised
to be his wife. He can see the boat ir
which he took his baby Glare for her first
row. He can see-nothing more, for the
tears blind him now, and his white head
is bent to hide them.
'Father p
The old forms have been so life-like to
him, there on the old spot, that he can
fancy it is really his little daughters own
voice whispering the words:
"Father-dearest."
All, kind heaven! It is Clare's own
voice. It is Clare herself who comes to.
ward him, in her own radiant beauty, and
in the beauty Of the sunshine which has
always belonged to her. Her lips are
raised to his; her eyes are beautiful ex-
ceedingly in their glad and steadfast love.
Father, speak to me! Oh, my dear,
speak to me! There is no oath to keep YOU
silent, for did not marry Allan Foster. I"
''Clare! Glare! What is it? Tell me
bear another separation"
'Never, father, never. No other sepa-
ration can ever come. We are together
again for always. Father"-her arms are
locked about his neck, and, between the
whispered words, she presses her laugh
ing, happy lips to Observation-Disclosures
ried-Victor.
The simple meaning of the few words
has not reached him, when Clare's hus-
band stands before him-a gallant, hand.
some English gentleman, with q happy
laughter in his eyes
"Foster! Why are you here? Clare,
what does it mean? Tell me how it is,
Foster? I am dull and bewildered; moth
ing is clear, except"
Except, papa" Clare softly laughs, as
she nestles still closer in his arms, 'that
we are all together again, you-and l.
and Victor"
''But Foster
"Don't call me Foster any more, please,
uncle, the young man puts in pleasantly,
'unless you feel yon can forgive me more
easily by that name. Can you ever do
So"
One close, quick grasp the baronet gives
the outstretched hand, but no words will
yet pass his shaking lips.
81 don know what to do, uncle, really"
Victor adds, laying one hand tenderly
upon Clare's head. II can not thank YOU
Tor giving me my wife, because you de-
,lined to do it; yet ought to thank you,
because you wished to do it, and had
promised"
''But why" falters Sir Victor at last
why did you never tell me?"
''Ah! that would have undone it all.
hough l know can never have sufficient
excuse for causing you any pain and
oneliness. We can only try now to make
Up for it. and tempt you to forget it.
After all, uncle, it was almost a natural
wish OF mine, wasn't it? to try and win
ny own wife as other men do, and not
Expect her to come passively to me, be-
ause she had been promised to me with
'ut her Own wishes being consulted. / |
cit that she would come in obedience to |
ou, but wanted love to bring her-love
hat should prove even stronger than
bedience; love that should brave every
hing. 1t was very hard to continue in
be deceit, Uncle Victor, but without it I !
hould never have known the intense hap
mess which is mine now. You will for.
i've me? 1t seemed so hard not to have
} take my chance like other men, that is,
was happy to take even less chance
ian most other men,"
81 might have guessed it," saws Sir
ictor, his eyes full indeed as he looks
ON his daughter to her husband.
knowing your nature, Victor"
"And my right to indulge my hobbies
lille was free, as you told poor Foster
le night Clare came home"
''Don't remind me of it, quite vet.
[are, did you know who Allan Foster
asp
Never" she answers, suddenly grave
I'd earnest, "never until we were in
lurch together-on my birthday morn
g. Why, father, I could not have kept
e secret from you-not one hour.
ctor knew that"
'My child, how can I believe it all, and
at l am really here in the old home?
ctor, dear fellow, can you forgive me?
ID can you"
"Finish the manuscript? Uncle Victor,
at is now my only ungratitied ambition.
finish it-as l said in my letter-in !,
y own house, but under your supervi- .
N, and exactly as used to do"
81 did not mean that" the baronet ,
rs, laugh in his own eyes now, though g
voice falters still in its excessive glad J
IS; Il was thinking of something else" e
But he does not explain what, for he 9
MEMBERS that they neither of them know .
ything about his intention of altering :
will and leaving his wealth to Clare's !,
sband, instead of to Victor Luhorne. a
odon Society. u
ara Ward and Fremont in California.
After several winters in Washington" a