The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-09-06
THE HISTORY OF A LIFE
BY THE AUTHOR OF CAPTAIN GERALD, ''THE
RIGHT OF Way" ETC.
CHAPTER V.
A JOYFUL CHANGE.

lluuIo, anu, NIltH llt dhOht, Llo louliu LIS
clerk had already arrived, and the bus
iness of the day commenced.
He had a cup of hot, strong coffee
brought to him, and then he had to set
to work again over those hopeless calcu-
lations, which seemed to take clearer
form of menace every time he tried to
mend them.
But he stayed at his Office conscien-
tiously all day, though he knew he was
doing no good there. The clerks kept
coming in for Instructions; and, at last,
he told them it was leasure day, and
therefore they might as well take advan-
tage Of it to leave earlier.
They went off delighted, of course; and,
very soon afterwards Mr. Beloe locked
up his ledger, signing, and, giving a few
directions to his otlice-man, also departed.
He walked moodily homeward. Look
which way he might, there was no ray of
light to cheer him, nothing to brighten
the darkness of his lot.
Ruin! 1t was an ugly word-a word
that meant, perhaps, starvation, cruel
stint, and biting cold, avertedheads, or, at
best scornful recognition. Already Mr.
Beloe walked through the streets with
his face lowered, grateful for the friendly
darkness which hid his new shame.
When he got to his own door, he was
amost afraid to enter, for fear his wife
and daughter would stab him with ques-
tions. He skunk in like thief, and
mounted the stairs softly, hoping he
might not be heard.
But, though his step was subdued, he
had not reached the top of the landing be-
fore Euphemia's door opened, and she
came swiftly towards him, looking like a
ghost in her white dressing-gown.
Mr.. Beloe was faint with long fasting,
utterly weary, almost heart-broken. He
felt that he could stand nothing more.
Don't, my DEAR" he said, removing
her arms from about his, and speaking
huskily. 81 am not well; and you-you
know the worst"
papa" she went on eagerly, ri have
accepted Mr.. Roper, and you are to have
the entire management of the business,
and command of his resources"
cts sorry jest, Euphemia," he an
swered, with grim smile that was terri
bly, pathetic, "a sorry jest, but I know
you did net mean any harm by it, my
dear"
ut is no jest, papa, but the actual
truth"
"What, my dear?"'
She had to repeat it once more, for he
seemed almost stupefed; but, when once
he understood it, his whole frame shook
with sudden thrill of exquisite delight,
and he kissed her with a kind of passion
"Oh, Phemie! you have saved me, my
love-you have saved mel" he sobbed out
like child.
At this minute, his daughter was proud
of her terrible sacrifice, and said to her.
self, 81 have done WELL" though her con-
science negatived the words emphatcally.
Meanwhile, Mr.. Beloe kept crying and
sobbing like a child; without any restraint;
and Euphemia, who was fearful that
some of the servants would hear him,
at last, went into her own room, and shut
and locked the door.
He was quite unnerved, and thankful
to be guided. She put him gently into a
chair, and then she got him little bran
dy, and made him swallow that. The
hysterical sobbing ceased after this, and
he looked up at her anxously.
II have made sad fool of myself,
Phemie, but | was so weak with long
fasting, and the shock of such joyful
tidings was more than | could bear. |
shall be all right in a minute, though,
thanks to your care"
"It was lucky CHANGED to have the
brandy in my room. l had been suffer-
ing with my heart, and was frightened
into taking some stimulant."
81 is better now, my dear?" asked her
father, gently
CAS- well as it will ever be, papa; mine
will not be long life, l fancy"
"Why not? You have always been
strong and well, excepting that time you
came back from your long visit to York
shire, and then you looked i'll, indeed"
"Don't you know, papa, we never talked
of that time" said Euphemia, in husky
voice. "You promised me you would
not"
81 quite forgot, my dear, l am sure"
''Do not think me harsh, dear papa,
but you must never refer to that again,
or, indeed, | can not marry Mr.. Roper"
"Pll cut my tongue in twain, Picnic,
if ever it offends youafter what you have
done for me this day. Heaven knows
how thankful am; and, if | can not find
words with which to express my feelings,
you must always remember, my love,
that blessed you this day from the bot
tom of full heart, and prayed that your
whole after life might be happier from
this good deed. And now l had better,
perhaps, 60 to your mother, as she may
be expecting me- but kiss me first, my
child, l wish l could see you looking
brighter-less as if this marriage were
sacrifice"
'Nay papa, but Tn happy enough"
she answered, softly, as she Kissed him.
She unbolted the door then, and let
him out herself. When he got into the
passage, after it was closed upon him, he
was suddenly eonfronted by a tall, stout
woman, who, seen by the dim light, might
have been judged at between thirty and
forty years Of age.