The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1880-09-18
A MOTHERS SACRIFICE,

A fire burned in the low crate, but the
little light it gave revealed all the grace of
Mrs. Wing6eld's slight form in its close
fitting robes of black. Tonight, for
the first time in her two years of widow
hood, she laid off the widows cap.
which had for so long served to conceal
the thick auburn braids so artistically
coiled about the small head. Perhaps
for this came reason she had dismissed
the butler when he entered according
to custom to light lamps, or perhaps
because the slow ticking of the clock
upon the mantel revealed to her suffi-
GENTLY the lapse of time without COM
polling her to distinguish the hands
upon the face of the dial drawing nearer
and nearer the hour whose close ap-
proach dissipated the calmness she
vainly strove to gain.
Eighteen years had passed since she
and Arthur Mainwaring had met. They
had been lovers in that far-off time, but
he was poor then, with no whisper in
the air of the rich inheritance to which
he afterward fell heir, just too late for it
to bring happiness 10 either. Not that
they cared for wealth, either of them,
but then there were older, wiser minds
to Judge for both, and 50, each vowing
eternal VOWS, they were torn apart.
Six short months later she married
Edward Wingfield. He was, fortunately,
not man to look for love and sentiment
in his young wife-only wifely duty and
obedience. In these she never failed
him, and after his death the world found
proof of his esteem in the fact that to
his widow reverted all his fortune, I'M
trammeled by single reservation.
She had married very young. She
was but thirty-fve now. Would he
find her changed, she wondered-he for
whose coming she waited here to. day
simultaneously with the thought
came the sound of carriage wheels and
horses hoofs on the graveled walk. She
started to her feet, pressing both hands
upon her fast-beating heart. Only that
morning she had received the telegram
announcing Arthur Mainwaring's COM
ing, and already he was here. She was
glad, oh, so glad, that the room was
dark, when she heard the quick, firm
thread she had sometimes heard in ner
dreams during these long years of duti-
full living; so glad that he could not see
the quick blush, which put her matron-
hood to shame, when the door was
thrown hastily open, and three or four
swift strides brought him to her side.
"Barbara!"
Oh, how his voice still thrilled her
half with pleasure, half. with pain!
His tall form lowered far above her,
as in the olden time; but he held close
in his own firm, tender grasp, her two
little trembling hands.
care you glad to see me?" he ques-
toned. She strove to answer, but hel
lips quivered, and no words came.
Barbara" he said then again. and
he bowed his handsome head lower
sis it too soon to speak?"
"Oh, Arthur" she answered. "can
yet atoneP"
And then the bridge of years wa!
swept away, and she sobbed out bel
happiness upon his heart.
"Let me see you," he said, at last
81 have not yet seen the face for which
/ have hungered all these years"
He struck light, then turned an(
looked at her.
MY darlingp' he said. 1T is still
my beautiful Barbara. What have
done to deserve this hourp"
Mamma, where are you?" called on
! fresh, girlish voice at this instant.