The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1880-01-21

jured up by his restless fancies OF
the night before-his motherl Close be-
hind her was the wholly-wondering,
half-apolegetic face of his butler. 1t
took him a full minute to realize it was
no dream; and then (honor to his man
hooD sudden, overwhelming tender
ness swept away all else, and with a
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, a little feeling Of
irritation began to grow at his heart.
Why had she conner Had he not made
all comfortable at her homer Here she
would be constrained, unnatural. And
Violet. He could picture the astonished
look which would creep into her eyes
when he said, "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 HIM
self knew the innate irritation they be-
trayed.
"Mother, why did you not let me know
you were comingT'
81 meant to surprise you, my boy"
she answered fondly. "Can it be that I
have done wrongr'
"No, no." he hastily replied. "Come,
you must eat and go to bed. You need
q rest"
But, long after he had bid her good
night, he sat and thought,
His mother had come to make her
home with him. This was clear. If he
told her he willed it otherwise, she would
obey him.
For time he planned it outflow he
would tell her the city life was not
adapted to her needs; and then Violet
need never know the plain, humble,
little woman--who had not shamed to
toll with her own hands that his might
be the hands of gentleman.
Oh, shame on himl Gould he ever
wash them clean, even Of the thought 7
No, Violet should know the truth! He
could bear the scorn now in her eyes and
in her voice as she would question him
how dared he lcok 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
turned the knob of the door of the room
where his mother slept, he noiselessly ap-
preached the bed, and, bending down,
touched his lips to the old withered fore
head reverentIy.
She started up, with glad sob Of joy.
"My boy! my boy! who | thought was
not glad to see his mother"
He quieted her at last, wondering why
his own heart felt 80 light, and she fell
asleep with his hand tightly cla>ped in
hers. .-
"You did not come last night" said
his betrothed, when next morning, he
stood in her presence ...
"No, Violet" he answered; "but I
come to-day to tell you how unworthy I
am Of your love. Last night my mother
came to me. Nay, do not start. 1t was
no visitant from the spirit land, but an
actual reality, Ihave never told you Of
nay mother. Think of it--a man SO
blessed, and yet dumbl All her life she
toiled with poverty-for whose sake,
| think yous Her son's-that she might
make him a gentleman. God pros
pered him, and enabled him to take the
burden from her old shoulders, and 80 he
thought he had done his duty. He fed
the body but he let the heart starve.
Last night, in the desperation Of her
hunger, she sought me out. For mo-
ment--oh, bitter humiliation!-my heart
rebelledl Think Of it, Violet--the cruel,
unnatural pride which would bring into
a mans cheek q blush for the woman
who bore him. / thought of you, with
your pretty dainty ways, side by side
with her homefy ones. I knew the two
never could be reconciled, and so, Vio-
let, have come to ssk you to forgive
and forget me. My heart, my home, are
my mothers henceforth and forever"
/ Had the man some lingering hope that
the girl before him would refuse the
sacrificed Certainly an added look OF
suffering grew into his eyes as she
answered nothing, only laid her hand in
his moment, as il in farewell.
| His visits seemed very long, very
weary, all that day; but, 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 anticipated her cry Of "my boy" a;
tremblingly she rose to greet him; bui
all, he had not anticipated the picture
whichmet his gaze. -...
His mother was ssitting, indeed, in the
arm chair by the fire but at her feet, hel
head resting in her lap, while the old
fingers caressingly stroked the luxiurant
chestnut hair, was another figure, which
rose, instead, to welcome him.
Bernard" the sweet voice whispered
in his ear, "1 lost my mother when l was
a baby. 1t has been so sweet to find one
againl You said, 'henceforth your home
and heart were hers On, my love, may
we not share the boonw =
i Sensations are at premium in the
far West, the San Francisco Call, having