The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1880-03-03


tenderness swept away all else, and with
q glad cry Of 'Mother!' he clasped her
to his heart.
When she had grown calmer and more
at rest, beginning to look around and
wonder and admire, little feeling Of IT.
ritation began to grow at his heart. Why
had she come? Had he not made all
comfortable for her at home2 Here she
would BEL constrained, unnatural. And
Violet. He could picture the astonished
look which would creep into her eyes
when he said to her, This is my mother;'
nay, more, the naughty curve which
would gather about her mouth, so rich
and ripe, and sweet. So the question at
his heart found words, and he scarcely
himself knew the innate irritation thew
betrayed.
Mother, why did you not let me know
you were coming.
I meant to surprise you. my boy she
answered, fondly. Can it be that I have
done wrong9'
NO, no.' he hastily replied, Come,
you must eat and got to bed. You need
a rest
But. long after he had hidden her
goodnight, he sat and thought
His mother had come to make her
home with him. This was clear. Ifhe
told her he willed 1t otherwise. she
would obey him.
For time he planned it outflow he
would tell her the city life was not adapt
ca to her needs; and then Violet need
never know of the plain, humble little
woman-who had not shamed to toll
with her own hands that his might be the
hands ofgentleman. I'd d,
On, shame on him! Could he ever
wash them clean, even of the thought?
No, Violet should know the truth He
could never bear the scorn now in her
eyes and in her voice, as she would cues
ton him how dare he look up to her, but
his mother should share his home and
heart to the end.
1t was too late now to visit Violet to-
night, but he went up stairs, and softly
turning the knob of the door of the room
where his mother slept, he noiselessly ap-
proched the bed, and bending down,
touched his lips to the old withered fore
head reverently. ....
She started up with glad sob of ioy.
My boy! my boy who thought was
not glad to see his mother IT,.
lie Quoted her at last, wondering whv
his own heart felt so light, and she fell
asleep with his hand tightly clasped in
hers.
You did not come last night said his
betrothed, when next morning he stood
IN her presence.
No, Violet he answered: but came
to-day to tell you how unworthy am Of
your love: Last night my mother came
to me. Nay, do not start. 1t was no
visltant of the spirit land, but an actual
reality. have never told you of my
mother, think of ia man so blest, and
yet dumb! All her life she toiled with
poverty-for whose sake, think you? Her
son's-that she might make him a gen.
tleman. God prospered him, and ena-
bled him to take all the burden from
her old shoulders, and so he thought
he had done his duty. He fed the
body and let the heart starve. Last night
IN the desperation OF her hunger, She
sought me out. For moment -oh, bit
ter humiliation my heart rebelled!
Think it, Violet-the cruel, unnatural
pride which would bring into mans
cheek a blush tor the woman who bore
him [ thought OF you, with your pref
ty, dainty ways, side by side with her
plain and homely ones. I knew the two
could never be reccnciled, and so, Violet,
have come to ask you TO forget me. My
heart, my home, are my mothers hence
forth and forever .
Had the man some lingering hope that
the girl before him would refuse the
sacrifice? Certainly an added look OF
suffering grew into his eyes as she an
swered nothing, only laid her hand IN
his moment, as if in farewell. 9.@.5 =.
His visits seemed very long, very
weary, all that day, bat as he crossed the
home threshold at nightfall, he smoothed
the frown from his brow as he remarked:
She must suspect nothing
He would find her, he knew, in his
study. As he softly opened the door he
had anticipated her cry of, MY boy!'
as she tremblingly rose to greet him but
an ne had not anticipated the picture
which met his gsze.
His mother was sitting, indeed, In the
armchair by the fire, but at her feet, her
head resting in her lap, while the old
fingers carelessly stroked the luxuriant
chestnut hair, was another figure, which
rose, instead, to welcome him.
'Bernard,' the sweet voice whispered in
his ear, Il lost my mother when l was a
baby It has been so sweet to find one
again! You said, 'Henceforth your home
and heart were hers. Oh! my love, may
we not share the bOOn?'