The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1875-07-27

longing 10 behold once more the dear tacos
Of father and mother, so packing o few
, articles into n valise, she took little Ger.
) tic by the hand aud stole ont into the
summer morning, leaving in an out
wardly pleasant home this trace OF her
whereabouts.
al have gone home to my father. II you
want me, write, and | will return
KATE"
What a rush Of recolections came over
her as she stood on the well known plat.
form, in the little station ut N, Just
q mile from her fathers house, She
knew a shorter route across .he fields,
and tired out after her journey, choose
that, as the nearest. How often she had
been the same path, years ago, when she
: was light-heartod girl, with no cares to
burden body and soul. 1t was twelve
years before that her tall, blue-eyed bro.
ther Harry said good bye to her at the
station, and went away to roam the sea.
She had walked over the path with him
then, and not one word had come to any
Of them since She thought of him,
and then Of the young artist, who
poured out his honest love at her feet in
this same path, just in the shadow Of the
grand old wood she was passing. 1t had
given her pain to reject him, but she did
so with so much kindness that her words
lost half their sting, and she made q
friend instead of an enemy. Then came
the recollection Of the young clerk who
came from the city, and, with his hand.
some face and eloquent eyes won her
trusting girls heart, all unskiled in the
wilcs Of the great wicked, world, for his
own. Tho after life made her shiver.
A heavy weight seemed to oppress her
the path was longer than she thought it
would be, but at last turn revealed to
the weary woman her old home, unchang-
cd, and looking very beautiful in the
September twilight. A whie.haired
man, leaning on cane, came down the
path to meet her. Her father looking
older and winter than when she last saw
him, but her father. A glad cry strug-
gled to her lips. A sharp pang went
through the heart OF this old man rs he
gazed into the face Of his child and read
there the tale of disappointment and
sorrow which no word Of hers had reveal.
ed. tie took her rcverently into his arms.
My poor darling my poor suffering lit
tie girl ~ was all he could say. A tall,
bronzed and bearded man stood behind
him, with IIarry's blue eyes, who ex-
claimed, "Can this be Kate ?' She
looked up quickly. 1t was Harry, and
brother and sister so long parted were
claspcd in each others arms
She crossed the wel.known threshold.
A slight form sat there in the hall, her
hands clasped idly in front Of hor, her
eyes on the carpet, calm, placid express
sion on the sweet old face, and threads of
silver lying on the white brow. Mother,
. mother - and tired Kate was at home
at last, for she felt her mothers kiss upon
her brow, and heard the sweet voice utter
a glad welcome. Little Gertie was soon
at home with Uncle Harry, and listened
in baby wonder as he recounted to ready
listeners wild tales Of his life on the sea.
lie had come home nearly q month before
como suddenly and unexpectedly, and
desire to be reunited once more prompted
Mr.. Leland to send his daughter means
to come TO them, for he felt that some
thing beside inclination lay behind her
long absence Kate went eally to rest
in her old room. Everything was as she
left it, and the rose bush that she used
to water still trailed about the trellis;
work at her winnow.
She went 10 sleep, TO dream of chains,
and slavery, and great, black dream,
that slowly resolved itsel into the face Of
Edward Doan. To sleep, to wake in
raging fever, and unconscious Of all about
her, During all those weeks Of suffering
and dellrlum her mother scarcely left her
bedside, and when she slowly struggled
back to life again, her mothers was the
lirst lace she saw. Mr.. Doan came down
when they wrote him she was i'll; he did
stay week, but business was pressing,
and he went back to the city, telling them
to send for him if she did not get better.
When at last she became convalescont,
he wrote for her to return. Her reply
was characteristic Of Kate's whole life };
sweet, friendly episte, telling him "she
was unable to come, but as soon as she
was, would hasten to relieve the loneliness
she knew he must feel without her or lit
tie Geriie." But the Omnipotent Ruler
willed it otherwise. The weeks went by,
and he sent an inpatient imperative COM
mand for her "to come Immediately home.
She would never have been sick at all if
she had obeyed him, and stayed there"
This was the roply that came back to
him
"Your wife will never come home
again, She is dying of consumption, and
if you wish to sec her alive, come imme.
diately. HARRY LELAND"
Ii was too true. Kate's hours were
numbered, and the number was few. Mr..
Doan found things worse than he expect.
ed, for the second day after his arrival,
a cool, bright day in early fall, she call.
ed them all to her hodsido sit is all
over, and | am going home. My great.
est desire is to count every face around
me in that happy land where there is no
return. But, Edward | wish you to give
up beftle uhtii she Is older; ol0 enough
to choose, in a measure, for herself To
you, father and mother, bequeath her.
Guard her well, and care for her as ten.
derly as you cared for me- She badc
them all tender good bye" and then
added, "Make my grave in the village
churehyard, and remember only this poor
body will lie there, whilo the soul is with
God, in paradise She clasred little
Gertie to her heart, smile parted the
sweet lips and the guieless spirit took its
flight
Kate was at rest ,nd who shall say it
was not better so. They clasped the
thin, white hands over the still heart.
aud laid her away in the autumn gloam.
ing away in the churchvard on the hill.
side crcctinr over her this inqorintion