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

that, but perhaps you were right. L
want all forgotten, and him to come
back. He's all have gotl
Mr.. Hunt had purposed to be very
quiet and self-possessed during this in
terview, but here he quite broke down.
When he had wiped the first tears away
he looked down on her where she knelt
by him with her hands clasped over his
knee, her eyes shining, her face all
rosy.
Say that he is innocent !" she pray
ed, Say that my Max is innocent of
that foul crime ~
don't believe that he meant to
hurt me, child. Max never was violent,
nor such coward as to attack an old
man. provoked him."
I" But, Mr.. Hunt, Max swears that he
must have left the house before the
robber entered He had been gone half
an hour before the doctor was called.
You couldn't have been insensible all
that time. Max says he left his shawl
in his room, he had no occasion for
shawl such warm weather; and some
body got that and the handkerchief to
condemn him. You must see that it
was plot. Then, where is the money!
He had none when he was taken. Oh,
say that he is innocent" !"
" J. hope that he is" he said tremul-
ously. 81 don't really believe him
guilty" And with that she had to be
content.
3" If he comes out will you and he
come and live here with me 2" asked
the old man, and he actually blushed as
though asking for himself. And, in
deed, he had heavy stake in her an
swer.
g L think,Max intends, when he is
free, to go away as far as possible from
here" she answered, little coldly.
He has suffered so much here that he
will wish to forget the place. At first
he will be poor, but he will soon do
something. Max his talent and ener-
gy."
have money. He should not want.
All is his!' cried the grandfather eager
ly.
g Max will never take dollar from
you till this accusation is proved false,''
she said firmly.
Indeed, money and many articles
which he had lately sent his grandson
had been sternly refused, and promptly
returned.
"Then 1 am to be left to die alonel''
broke from his lips in a desolate cry.
You have Clark" she said. "You
always preferred him to Max. Max was
always subject to him. They could
never agree. They cannot again live
together
Clark did my business, and did it
well" he said hastily. "But that was
all. I never loved the poor fellow. Be-
sides, he's dead.''
"Dead !"
Then he told her of Clark's journey and
illness.
"John has just come from there, and
brought some papers. He said that the
poor fellow was almost gone. 1 believe
he said something about a letter. III
ring and have lights"
Let me wait on you," said Lutte en-
gerly.
She drew the curtains, pushed his
chair before the fire, throwing another
stick among the Goals, lighted q lamp,
and brought him his papers, all with an
ease, readiness, and quietness very pref.
ty to see. Mr.. Hunt could not remem-
Der the time he had been SO we'll attend
ed, though poor Clark had been very
prompt and quiet.
Now, my DEAR" he said, smiling,
since you have begun, please to finish.
Your eyes are younger than mine.
Won't you read the letter for me ?"
Lutte smiled, feeling little at home
in spite of herself. She opened the let
ter, sitting opposite him in the soft glow
of the lamp, and read the signature or
signatures first, for three names were
signed after an unintelligible scrawI
which she could not make out The
names were those of clergyman,
doctor, and lawyer, all whom she had
heard of. She looked at him after read
ing them, and began to tremble.
His will, l suppose, poor fellow p
said Mr.. Hunt. Read it, Lutte"
She looked at the first page, and q
light flashed over her face. The letter
crackled in her hand che exras,,ad a -