The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1879-02-18

but my heart aches when / see her pale
face. Why, when read that card of
hers in the papers, begging the person
who did the deed to confess 1t, and save
an innocent man, / most believed he
didn't do it. Well, what's the mat
terp"
At the mention of Lutte, Clark had
changed countenance, first red then pale
What is 1t, Clark 2'
"Sir," said the other with difficulty,
have been attached to Miss Ringgold,
and she refused me before she accepted
your grandson. 1t is not pleasant to me
to hear her name mentioned in connec-
ton with his, for respect her yet. For
him, l would be glad If he were free and
would leave the country, as was pro-
posed some time ago; but he disdained
that. If he will do it now, l shall do
what l can, and would advise you to
give him sufficient allowance. But if
he comes here to live, will go. wish
you good morning, sir. 1 shall return
tomorrow if can get through"
Mr.. Clark did not return the next day.
His business probably delayed him. The
second morning came telegram signed
by himself saying that he was quite ill,
was afraid of cholera, and in the after
noon another signed by his physician
saying that there was no hope of his
recovery. Mr.. Hunt had never had
much affection for this man, but he was
used to him, and Clark had been faith
ful steward. The sick man was only ten
miles distant, but it was impossible to
go to him. The old man walked to and
fro in the rooms bemoaning his lonely
and deserted condition, and longing for
Max or some one to speak to. On the
reception of the first telegram he had
sent messenger to take care of Clark
and take charge of his business. He
was now, as the evening drew on, ex-
pecting word from him. AS he waited,
his past life seemed to rise up before
him, all its pleasures, its pains, its faults,
its punishments. He remembered MaX's
father, noble, high-spirted man, and
the pale, timid little bride whom he had
brought home. He remembered how
this delicate flower had faded and died
in that uncOngenial air, and how her
husband, his idolized son, had been un-
able to stay where he had lost so much
and had gone to die in foreign land.
He glanced over the life of their only
child, and bitterly reproached himself
for his selfishness toward the orphan.
{" He shall come back /" exclaimed the
old man. "He has been punished
enough, and too much. He shall come
home again, poor Max ~
Here the servant introduced his mes
senger.
81 just came in the six o'clock train,
sir" said the young man. 7" Mr.. Clark
is alive, but the doctor thinks he won't
last all night. Here are some papers,
and a letter which they wished you to
read right away. They had a lawyer
and a minister in this afternoon, and
Clark seemed to take on about dying.
Will you read the letter, sir? think it's
something particular"
" You may lay it down and co." said
Mr.. Hunt.
The messenger who was evidently ex-
cited and curious, withdrew in great
disappointment. Mr.. Hunt stood for a
moment, pale and silent. The nearness
of death to one whom he had known so
long gave him some solemn thoughts.
He walked slowly to the window, and
looking nm the street saw q familiar
form coming down. 1t was q young
lady of about twenty-three, tall, slight
girl with soft brown hair parted evenly
over a pale, low forehead, and with
solemn, tender, dark eyes looking
straight before her. The cheeks were
pale, and the close-shut, patient mouth
seemed to have forgotten smiles. Lutte
Ringgold was wont to turn her head
away when passing that house, but now
she heard her name pronounced, and
looked to see who spoke.
won't you come in moment?" he
asked, quite humbly. 9 would like to
speak to you"
Lutte flushed all over with surprise
and fear. Oh had anything happened
TO Max
She followed Mr.. Hunt to his study,
sank into the chair he offered her, and
waited as long as she could. But he was
so long beginning that she cried out
"What is 1t, sir? Max
:" was going to speak of Max, Miss
Ringgold,n - he said. "The truth Is, /