The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1880-01-21
THE DAILY STAR
DIR. MOTIONS MOTHER.

The clock on the mantel had Just
chimed one short musical stroke.
Through the half closed blinds shone the
silvery light of the fast wandering moon;
the candle had burned low in its socket;
the log Of wood had converted itself to
ashes; but Of all this DR.. Bernard Mol
ton saw or heard nothing, as he sat in his
office chair lost in thought. If the moon
had hidden the world goodnight, II the
candies feeble existence had entirely
ceased, and even the red glow OF the
ashes in the CRATE had died away, he
would still have seen only the picture OF
the woman's face whom he loved.
1t was with him now as it had been
with him for hours past, since the mo-
ment he had placed his fate in Violet
Eane's keeping, and she had accepted it.
No wonder that it all seemed new and
strange to him-that he was needless OF
time and space. She was such delicate,
high-born lady, and he-ah, another
vision came before him now. Not the
cheerful Office, with its luxurious ap-
pointments-he might at least offer ViO-
let home worthy Of her-but the men,
ory of the days he had run. little bare
footed lad, about his mothers cottage,
and the toiling of her only child had
earned one by one the dollars which had
sent him first to the village school, and
then to the great city to learn the pro-
fession for which he longed.
He had succeeded well and bravely,
oeyond his most ambitious h0pes,but the
mother who had toiled for him, where
was she9 Why was it that tonight her
old, wrinkled face drove even Violet
Fane's beauty from him7 .t.
True, he had no longer allowed her to
work; true, she sat at ease in her little
cottage, thinking of, and praying for,
her boy, who was so good and generous
to her; but was it his fault that his pa
tients were so many, and his hours 50
precious, that he could find no time to
gladden. her old heart by glimpse OF
him now and then7 -..
And now-now that he thought of
Violet as his wife-Violet. with her
high-bred ways-Violet whose very asso-
citation was in such widely different
sphere-eonld it be that he was ashamed
of his mother? .-...
The candle died ont entirely the wood
was white ashes now; the moon had sunk
to rest, the clock chimed 2; but red-hot
flush burned on DIR. Notions cheek as
he rose to find his way to his room and
bed, and perhaps forgetfulness in sleep
For three long hours he sought the
boon in vain, and when at last it came
to him, and bis tired eyes closed, how
could he but dream Of those other eyes
Just awakening in the far-off home,
which somehow tonight had so persist
emily haunted his thoughts?
In the little cottage all was hustle, for
Mrs. Motion had determined to give her
boy a surprise, and the train for London
started very early.
LondonI 1t lay ten long hours away.
1t would be almost nightfall when she
arrived. How glad Bernard would not
be 10 see her! He. had never proposed
her coming, because he had thought she
would find the courage; as though for
his sake she would not do or dare any
thing.
She was sorry now she had not had
the village dress maker make up the
black silk he had sent her, but it looked
so grand, in its lustrous folds, that it
seemed pity to touch it with the scis-
sors, and she would seem more natural
like to Bernard in her stiff dress.
How often she had pictured him in his
lonely home. She hoped that he might
be out when she arrived, that she might
take off her bonnet, and slipping On her
white cap, let him find her, with her
knitting in hand, quietly seated by the
freside, waiting his return.
All the way in the train, when at last
she had got started on her journey, she
could hardly keep her happy thoughts
to herself; and more than one glanced at
the smiling old face, with something
tugging at their heart-strings which al
most brought moisture into their eyes.
It was quite night-fall when she
reached the city. There had been some
delay on the road, and the old lady felt
a sinking at the brave heart which had
prompted her mission. However, she
succeeded in finding cabman willing to
take her to the address she held in her
hand.
'It must be a mistake, or he has
brought me tn the wrong place. Oh,
dear, what shall deY she sighed, as he
drew rein before a large. handsome
house, presentinga well-lighted front, in
one of the most aristocratic portions of
Mayfair.
But cabby reassured her, and she soon
found herself, surrounded by boxes and
bundles, facing the formidable gentle
man. ".who opened the door.
Save for suspicious shortness of a
certain portion Of his attire, which
reached only to his knees, which were
met by stiff leather leggings, the worthy
woman would have dropped him cour-
tesy.
'fPast the doctors Office hours, ma'am,
he said, in response to her feeble appeal.
"It's as much as my place is worth to
take in your card"
'But / have no card. He'll see me.