Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-06-04

light up as he entered, and whose lips
would perhaps brush his checks with
their volyety caresses.
lie sprang 10 his feet 10 seek her,
when the door softly opened, and, turn
ing, he saw-could II be a dream con-
jured up by his restless fancies Of the
night beforep-his motherl Close be-
hind her was the wholly-wondering,
half-apologetic face Of his butler. II
took him a full minute 10 realize IL was
no dream and then (honor 10 his man
hood) a sudden, overwhelming tender
ness swept away all else, and with a
glad cry of "Motherl" 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 irritation began to grow at his heart.
Why had she Gomez Had he not made
all comfortable for her at homeP Here
she would be constrained, unnatural.
And Violetl He could picture the as
tonished 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 they betrayed.
Mother, why did you not let me
know you were cOmingP"
al meant to surprise you, my boy
she answered, fondly. "Can it be that
1 have done wrongP"
"No, no, !" he hastily replied. "Come,
you must eat and 60 to bed. You need
q rest"
But long after he had hidden her
goodnight he sat and thought.
His mother had come to make her
home with him. That was clear. If
he told her he willed otherwise, she
would obey.
For a time he planned it outflow he
would tell her the city life was not
adapted to her needs; and then Violet
need never know of the plain, humble
/ little woman who was not ashamed TO
toll with her own hands that his
hands might be the hands of gen.
| tleman.
o, shame on himl Could he ever
wash them clean even of the thought
No; Violet should know the truth lie
could bear the scorn now in her eyes
and in her voice as she would question
him how he dared look up to her, but
his mother should share his home and
his heart to the end.
It 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
approached the bed, and, bending down
touched his lips to the old withered fore
head, reverently.
She started up with glad sob of joy
"My boyi my boy! whom thought
was not glad to see his mother"
He quieted her at last, wondering why
his own heart felt so light, and she fel
asleep with his hand tightly clasped il
hers.
"You did not come last night" said
his betrothed, when, next morning, ht
stood in her presence.
"NO, Violet" he answered; "but
come to-day to tell how unworthy an
of your love. Last night my mother
came to me. Nay, do not stare. l
was no visitant from the spirit land
but an actual reality. l have never tolC
you of my mother. Think of it-a maj
so blessed, and yet dumb! All her lif
she toiled with poverty-for whose sake
think youP Her son's-that she Nigh
make him gentleman. God prospere,
him, and enabled him to take all tn
burden from her old shoulders, and so h
thought he had done his duty. He fe,
the body, but he let her heart starve
Last night, in the desperation of he
hunger, she sought me out. For a mo
ment-O, bitter humiliation my hear
rebelled! Think of it, Violet-the cruel
unnatural pride which would bring int
a mans cheek a blush for the woma
who bore him. thought of you, wit
your pretty, dainty ways, side by sid
with her plain and homely ones. Iknev
the two could never be reconciled; an
so, Violet, 1 have come to ask you t
forgive and forget me. My heart an
my home are my mothers hencefort
and forever" .
Had the man some lingering hope this
the girl before him would refuse the sat
riiceP Certainly an added look of su,
, fering grew into his eyes as she al
swered nothing, only laid her hand i
, his moment as if in farewell.
His visits seemed very long, yer
weary All llltJ udy DuIJ Us HS CIOSSc
, the home threshold at nightfall, b
smoothed the frown from his brow, @
t he remarked:
"She must suspect nothing"
He would find her, he knew, in hi
study. AS he softly opened the door h
anticipated her cry of "My boy" q
t she tremblingly rose to greet him bu
{ ah, he had not anticipated the pictur
4 which met his gaze.
r His mother was sitting, indeed, in tn
E armchair by the fire; but at her fee
her head resting in her lap, while th
{ old fingers caressingly stroked tI
e luxuriant chestnut colored hair, was al
S other figure, which rose, instead,
welcome him.
: Bernard" the sweet voice whi
8 pered in his ear, "I lost my mothC
0 when 1 was a baby. 1t has been s
sweet to find one again. You sal
Y 'Henceforth your home and heart wel
e hers o, my love, may we not shal
4 the boon P'-LOndOa Paper.
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