The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1876-03-23

himself in the remark that sickness
necessarily called him away, for half an
hour or SO, left the room.
els your mother very unwell?" /
asked of the little girl, who, with those
shallow-flled eyes Of hers, was regarding
me gently but attentively.
Yes, sir, mamma has been sick along
time," replied she, dropping her eyes
while her lips trembled.
"Did you come from America ?" she
asked timidly, after long silence.
Yes, my dear. Do you know any
thing of that country 7" l returned,
growing more and more pleased with her
expressive face.
"Only that mamma came from there,
and / think" she added hesitatingly,
"that | did. But Mr.. G. will never let
me talk about it."
"Are you, then, not the little daugh-
ter of Mr.. C.f' asked, somewhat aston
ished.
"I am my mothers daughter" an
swered the child, with grave dignity in
one so young, and a minute after she
arose and quietly left the room. sat
watching her white robes fitting through
the long shady walks opposite my win
dow, and knew that the child brooded
over some dark sorrow, for her eyes were
filled with tears. Why was it, l ques-
toned myself, that painful thoughts
took possession of me as sat there? 1t
seemed as if were sojourning in an en-
chanted spot, and that some horror was
suddenly to break in upon me. At my
side, nearly covering beautiful table of
letter-wood, were several costly gift
books. / took them up carefully, for
have reverence for books, and turning
to the fly leaf of a splendidly bound copy
of Shakespeare, read: To Mary Frances
r, from her devoted husband,
Henry F." A thrill of surprise
and anguish ran from vein to vein. NV
thoughts seemed paralyzed. The truth
had burst upon me with such suddenness
that the blood rushed with a shock to
my heart. / knew Henry F.; had
known him intimately for years. He
was friend toward whom all my sympa-
thies had been drawn, for he had seen
such sorrow as makes the heart grow old
before its time. His wife, whom he had
loved, deserted him. She had taken with
her his only child. She had desolated a
household and, forgetting honor, shame,
and everything that pertains to virtue
and to God, had fed from the country
with the man whose arts had won her
wanton love. How could remain under
this roof that now seemed accursed? I?
How meet the destroyer of virtue-the
fend who had reveled in such a con-
quest? I could only think of the evil
they had done, not what they might
suffer through the tortures of remorse.
1t was some time before the seducer
came into the room where still sat with
the child, determined to meet him once
more before I left the house. Oh how
guilty how heart-stricken his appear
ancel Remorse sat on his forehead
looked out from his eyes-spoke when he
was silent.
Will you come to dinner" he asked.
/ hesitated. Should / partake of his hos
pitaiity ?-the hospitality of one of those
fends. in human shape whose steps take
hold on hell? l knew his guilt-why
delay to declare it2 Why not, at
once, in burning words upbraid him
for his villainy and flee, as from pesti-
lence, his sin-cursed house? The man
noticed my hesitation. He could not, of
course, interpret its cause. AS he re-
peated his request, the look of distress
upon his face excited feeling of pity
which, for moment, slightly disarmed
my resentment, and under the influence
of this feeling, almost unconsciously,
| passed into the dining-room.
g am sorry little Nellie's mamma-Q
was glad he did not dare to use the sacred
name of wife)-is not able to sit down
with us" he said. 1t is many months
since we have had her presence at our
meals. She is suffering from the effects
of slow fever, induced by the climate" !"
he added grayely as he motioned me to a
seat before him. The table glittered with
silver plate. Obedient servants brought,
on the most costly servers, delicacies such
as had never seen before. But the
skeleton sat at the feast. / could not
talk, save in monosyllables. My host
ate hastily, almost waiting
upon me with many abrupt starts and
| apologies. Wine came. He drank free
ly. Soon he sent the little girl and
servants from the room, and seemed
striving to nerve himself for converse.
ton.
"You are from city, / believe, y
he said nervously. answered in the
affirmative.
"Did you ever know gentleman there
by the name of Henry F--p az
knew him, sir" said sternly, looking
the man steadily in the face, "and
know him also as ruined, heartrbroker
man." With an ejaculation of anguish
he put his handkerchief to his eyes. Il
would have seemed hypocritical. but th,
suffering on his face was unmistakable.
Perhaps you have suspected, then,
he began in a quivering voice. No
calmly, but with the words of an accuser
told him what had seen, thought ant
felt.
"Sir," said he, in tones which shal
never forget, if l have sinned, God il
Heaven knows that have suffered; an,
if in F.'s bereavementhe has cursed me
that curse is fearfully fulfilled. Poo
Mary is dying-has been dying 70
months and l have known it. ]
has been for me to see the failing ste
, the dimming eye; it is for me now
, see the terrible struggles of her nearl
worn out frame; it is for me to listen t
!. her language of remorse that sometime
almost drives me mad. Yes, mad, mac
|, madp he said in a frenzy, rising an
crossing the floor with long, hasty stridel
i Then burying his face in his hands, el
[ claimed, Too late too latel hav
) repentedp There was long pause an
he continued calmly: No huma
, means can now restore my poor con
panion. Her moral sensibilities becom
' more and more acute as she fails
!, strength, SO that she reproaches herse
4 constantly" A weary, mournful sig
9 broke from his lips as if his heart woul
a break. "Ol if he knew" he exclaime
s again, "if he knew how bitter penali
: she is paying for the outrage she has cor
d mitted upon him, he would pity her.
and if could be, forgive. viii you 6,
q her, sir ?"
!. Ishrank from the very thought.
d "She has asked for you, sir; do n
e deny her request. Hearing that W