The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1879-05-24

wicked enough, / fear, to regret anyone's
turning up TO claim it. But chats not at |
all likely; no more likely than that Rich
ard and | should ever meet again in this |
world. And hat--that is among the
things that never can happen.
1t was on this wise, our parting
Richards mother was old and feeble
and miserly. Shed spent good deal Of
money on him-sent him to college, and
expected, folks said, to snake something
of him." She always expected to get her
moneys worth out Of her transactions,
Richard held her in q sort Of awe, somehow,
though she was little wizened old woman
that he could have lifted with his left hand.
But liked him Tor respecting his mother.
One day we two were sitting at twilight
talking Of the future dreamily, as was our
wont.
aMy little one, said Richard, putting
his arm about me, sit seems too bright 10
ever be"
"Epr be u echoed. aOh, Richard,
il you talk that way, it will never be.
Richard smiled, but his face grew over,
cast / felt that storm was coming
Well?" l queried, seeing that he sat
brooding and silent
Darling" he said, soothingly, 81 knew
it would come hardly to you; but how can
| go against my mother? Her poor old
heart is bound up in me, Jeanette, aud
and she viii never hear Toto anything
that"
"That seems to lower you" | added, in
II steely voice that seemed to cut its way
out of my heart like keen cold knife.
ooh, am a coward--n poltroon r cried
Richard, wringing his hands. II was
born to bring trouble on those love
Who, shall | leave to suffer for me now
jeanette ?"
"The one who will say least about it"
answered, hardly. My heart was tbrob-
bing heavily, like clock that ticks the
hour Of execution, but | made no outery,
and we parted in that fnal parting silently.
And | have lived silently ever since.
One year after that | heard that Rich
ards mother was dead, and then that he
was married; who, knew not--who,
cared not. He had married another wo-
man while my last words were ringing in
his ears--right there, before the face of
the living heaven, married another woman,
and swore to love aud cherish me
But did not seem to feel this blow as
had felt our parting. | just flung him
out Of my heart there and then, and my
love and my silence vanished. | looked
into the face of my misery with smile,
and took this little shop in the village,
and worked early and late and made it
thrive. Then two years later, came my
little Toddles to rue, sitting like lily on
my doorstep, as il some angel of peace
had dropped her there | have named
her Theresa, but Toddles has always been
her own pet name for herself, and | like
it because it is hers.
The child has brought me peace. And
feel no vengeance against any one now.
Nor do | rejoice that Richards wife is said
to have turned out i'll, and spent the wealth
she brought him.
But | had forgotten the shop in all this
rcverie and reminiscence.
There was sharp twang Of the little
bell, and | heard heavy step in the door
way, | set down my coifee.cup hastily,
and hurried in to confront great muscu-
lar fellow with big beard aud slouched
hat, whose presence seemed fairly to wipe
out the little shop.
This was rather different type from
my usual customers, aud | was a little shy
Of him. He hesitated, and seemed bewil-
dered when | spoke to him-meu never
do get used to shopping it was some
time before | quite made out what he
wanted. II was some sort of wooden goods
"a scarf or kerehief, think. These
were not very saleable stock just now, and
| had put the box containing them out
of sight somewhere. While | rummaged
about, the stranger stood in the doorway,
watching me in way | did not like; per
haps he wanted 10 steal something lie
looked needy enough and shabby enough.
ooh, here they arc ut last, said /,
eagerly, handing down a package from a
high aud dusty shelf
The man did not seem to hear me. He
was looking at Toddles, darting like but
terfy outside
"Whose child is that 2" said he abruptly.
1t was an impudent question, and | felt
my blood flush up hotly for moment.
But reflected that this man looked way
worn and weary; perhaps he had come
long journey and left little child like
| this at home.
at is my child" said, pleasantly,
"Yours !" he repeated.
Cor at least, said l. 'if not mine, il
was left with me to be cared for
"Lcf with you p echoed the stranger.
AYE, so | have heard. Left with you by
the wretched man, the outcast the de-
graded, who knew none else on whom to
thrust his burden when his tinsellcd wife
fell from the tight rope, and died there,
grovelling in the sawdust--knew none
other Of whom to seek charity than the
woman who had loved him"
| listened as one stupifed with opium.
What did this man know or guess con
cerning me and mine? v hat object had
he in view in lingering about the shop ?
But | said, coolly, "That Is story that
needs to be proved.
The stranger stopped aud looked kecDly
at nc. "verily,' said he, with low,
sardonic laugh, ''he has reaped his re-
ward, il seems; he is both dead and for
gotten
| began TO feel afraid Of this man, who
seemed hent unon insplt;nc, or ,lar,o;ns,