Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1879-05-08

the gate, with Grace triumphantly dane
ing Mt his side, and walked up TO the
little porch. Katy stood ut the entrance
watering some plants.
| Good morning
| Good morning. SIR
L called TO thank you for the trouble
you took to bring my little girl home
the other day.
1T was no trouble Mt all. sir re-
turned Katy. modestly.
Grace stood silently by with pout
upon her lips.
What Is the matter with my little
girl, nowP the gentleman asked, kindly
| stroking her head.
That isn't her. she said in n grieved
tone. | want to see t'other one
1T Is my mistress she means said
Katy; please walk il, and will call
| her.
Miss Ventnor. sitting 10y the window.
| had heard his voice. and n face so white
met katy's eyes that she started back
in alarm. Miss Ventnor smiled a forced
| smile.
Do not be alarmed, Katy. | an. only n
| little dizzy. | have worked too hard
with my pen lately. | must take n rest
Little Oracle and gentleman are in
the parlor, and want 10 see you
VERY well, | will be down in
moment she said, just rs calmly as if
her heart were not striving to break its
prison with its wild throbbing.
The gentleman stood with his back To-
the door, studying n rare painting, when
Miss Ventnor. looking very pale and
naughty. swept into the room. Oracle
sprang forward, shouting glecfully:
1t Is her. papa-the one that kissed
your picture
A wave of crimson swept over Miss
Nentnor's face. Little Oracle had un-
consciously dealt terrible blow 10 her
pride.
The gentleman did not seem to notice
the child's remark. His eyes were fixed
upon Miss Ventnor's face. and his own
was pale as ashes. He took step for
ward.
'lmogenc, am | dreaming or do |
again look upon your face after SO many
ycars?'
Then he sank into chair and buried
his face in his hands. Aftcr few mo-
mcnts he looked up.
Forgive me; should have said Mrs.
Atwood
i do not claim that name she said
coldly.
Have you never married. | have
always thought Of you as George At
wood wife. Are you really Miss Vent
nor still?'
Il am
win you tell me why you never mar
ried him-or anothcrY
Because did not love
ON. lmogcne, can | dare hope that
you have remained single all these years
because you could not forget that you
once loved me Nay, forgive mc-hcar
| me out. n he saw the fash Of naughty
pride which swept over her face.
'Imogcne, can you forgive me when tell
you have never ceased to love you. and
how hsve suffered for those cruel words
which parted us ? / thought then | was
only doing my duty. and was just To my
| sell. You remember | embarked inn
| mediately for Europe. | had not been
one day out at sea, when became con-
WINGED that | was wrong in my mad
| jealousy of George Atwood. As soon a.
! reached England, | sent a rcpentant
letter. begging you 10 forgive and love
me again; but the answer which | re-
rcived nearly crushed m, heart
The answer P she interrupted. Il
mover rc~ivcd or wrote any letter
| What can this mean | certainly
received n letter in your handwriting.
| stating that my repentance had come too
late, as you were already the wife of
| George Atwood
| IL was n base forgery.
| But who could have been guilty of
| such thing9 | would have sworn il
| was your writing
No doubt IL was George Atwood
himself He used often to bring me my
mail. and he could initiate handwriting
TO perfection
| The rascal.
'IIush-bc not severe. George At
wood is dead and Mt the bar n higher
tribunal than ours
| Dead? | had not heard of this. You
are right; | will not judge him. and will
strive not TO hate his memory. After I
read the contents of that letter. was III
for many weeks. and after my recovery
spent years of restless wandering in
| foreign lands. In tiny English cottage
! met Gracic's mother. My heart was
strangely drawn toward her. and
thought by marrying could forget my
first love. ! trust ] did not wrong the
sweet girl who became my wife: loved
her deeply and tenderly. hut more n n
father loves his child, and daily thanked
God for her sweet. trusting love. which
made n better man of me. | made the
few years she spent with me entirely
happy and when laid my darling away
to rest, mourncd her tenderly and truly
lmogene have told you my story, Can
you forgive, and love me well enough to
be my wife?'
i can. Ernest. for, strive rs hard rs
would. could not forget you, and that
| Is why ! have never married. |. too
will ask you to forgive me. I was proud
and willful.'
Ny darling. there Is nothing to for
give. Though parted so long by plotting
ones. let Us both strive so to live that the
years we spend together shall be an
atoncment for what we have missed
And. Ernest, let us no longer think Of
him who caused our cstrangement, but
rather of little Oracle, who was instru-
mental, In Gods hands, in bringing us
together. She has stood there In the
corner some timo. lost in astonishment
and entirely neglected by us. Come
here. Oracle
/ Che into 1bo or,.,a 4