The Russellville Democrat., 1877-04-26

~A~~<~ speak to her, he was not astoDished at Antony's love. But it angered him new ertheless; and though it was always hard for Stephen to be cross to beautiful woman, he said, sharply:
 Where is my son, lass Y'
 "In New York, sir"
 What is he doint there 2"
 Making home for me and my father, sir."
 "Write and bid him come to his own father. You may tell him Pm ruined mana ruined man, lass. You'll make nought by marrying Antony Thirske now, Mary"
 "I am very sorry for you, Mir. Thirske. You may believe me or not; and I will write and tell Anthony what you say"
 But before Anthony could return things had come to crisis with Stephen Thirske. He had won his case-and been ruined in the winning of it. He was a complete bankrupt, and mill and house went under the sheriff7s hammer. There may be places where three failures and fire make mans fortune," but it is not in Yorkshire. Even the personal property of the unfortunate bankrupt was sold, and the ruined family were thankful to accept in the meantime the shelter of the governess's little home.
 Now, however, that Stephen had met the worst and faced it, all his pluck re- turned. He easily got a position in a friends factory, and began to slowly gather around him again the comforts'ol much number home. Amuch happier one, though; for these terrible changes had at length reversed the natural order of things. When Stephen was utterly bowed down, suddenly Lydia Thirske rose up, and took her true and natural position as comforter and helpmate. II almost consoled the weary husband fol all his losses to have found at last his true wife.
 Antony also had written loving and hopeful letters; and it was likely that he would be able to come for Mary the next summer. They were all sorry now tc think of parting from her, for she had been so helpful and cheerful in these dark days, that it was hard to imagine the cottage without her.
 AdveIsity has many learned disciples, and Ada had not been to it's school with. out benefit. It was impossible for hel not to reproach herself with her fathers ruin, and though no one else had done it the voice of society universally con- demned her. She remembered, too, that however revengeful and hateful Aske had been, she herself had done her best to call forth those qualities--he had al first tried to be very patient and kind tc her.
 One morning as she was sitting sewing to some such bitter thoughs as these she lifted a paper and read this para. graph:
 con Monday last, Aske, of Aske hall while hunting with the Towton hounds was thrown, and, it is feared, fatally in jured."
 She sat still thinking few minutes and then, without word to any one but Mary Hutton, left the house. Two hours afterwards she wss in Aske Hall helping to soothe the rawlings of it's delir ious master. Calmly but resolutely sht took her place, and in the long, dreary weeks of watching and darkness that fol lowed learnt many wholesome lesson
 Her great fear now was that the in jury to the brain was permanent, and that her husband would never know hel long enough to pardon her. But one night, as she stood looking tenderly at the pale, shrunken face, he slowly opened his eyes and said in whisper:
 "Adaw
 "George, dear George" and the kis' that sealed her forgiveness was the re- marriage of their hearts and lives.
 But Aske was many months helpless invalid; and it was almost a year after wards that Ada was going gently about the room, packing things for journey with him to the sunny skies of Italy. He watched her some time, and then said
 "Ada, I may never come back; I fec very weak. l wonder if your father would see me before go."
 The next morning Stephen Thirske stood by his enemy's side, and his eyes were full of tears.
 "You are much changed, George"
 Yes, Thirske, you have won at last Let us shake hands. The mill we tough, about have given to Ada, and she gives it to you. The papers are here; want to see them signed"
 "But, Aske-"
 Don't deny me this grace, Thirske if have to die, shall die the easier for it. If I live to come back, I want tC come back among friends. It is your own. No blessing has come to me since built it."
 So when Antony came to Mary he did not go back again. He joined his father in the Aske Mill, and in ten years the