The Northern Pacific farmer., 1881-03-17
A MOTHERS SACRIFICE.


A MOTHERS SACRIFICE.
Eighteen years had passed since she and
Arthur Mainwarring had met. They had
been lovers in the 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 to bring happiness to
either. Not that they cared for wealth,
either of them, but then there were older,
wiser minds to judge for them, and SO, each
vowing eternal vows, they were never apart.
Six short months later she married Ed
ward Winfield. He was, fortunately, nota
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, untrammeled 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
Mainwarring's coming and already he was
here. She was glad, oh, so glad, that the
room was dark when she heard the quick,
firm tread she had sometimes heard in her
dreams during those long years of dutiful
living; so glad that he could not see the
quick blush, which brought her matronhood
to shame when the door was thrown hastily
open, and three or four swift strides brought
him to her side.
"Barbara!"
On, 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 tremb-
'7Are you glad to see me?" he questioned.
She strove to answer, but her lips quivered,
and no word came.
Barbara" he said then again, and he
soon to speak?"
"Oh, Arthur" she answered, "can ever
atene?"
And then the bridge of years was swept
away and she sobbed out her happiness
upon his heart.
"Let me see you," he said at last. Il
have not seen the face for which have
hungered all these years.
He struck light, and then turned and
looked at her.
my darlingr' he said. 1T is still my
beautiful Barbara. What have I done to
deserve this hour!'
Mamma, where are you?" called out
fresh, girlish voice at this instant.
The next moment young girl of scarce
II summers sprang into the room.
This is my aughter--Arthur--my only
child. Dora, let me present you to one of
YOUR mothers oldest friends
The gentleman Indicated lookd from one
to the other-from the mother to the daugh-
ter-then back again. Now he could real
ize the lapse of time-now he could appre-
ciate the changes years had wrought. 1t
was as though he had brought the past and
present face to face, forcing him toacknow-
ledge the impossibility Of natures standing
still
The daughter was fair counterpart of
her mothers beauty. AS she looked now,
shyly extending to him her hand, as if in
depreciation of her unceremonious entrance,
SO had Barbara looked when extending her
hand in farewell, as though she would have
said, II am forced into it by stronger will
than mine."
An uncomfortable sensation rose up in
his breast-a dumb warning against the in
evitable-an unacknowledged desire to re-
trace life's pathway and conquer time.
Meantime the young girl pouted the full
red lips, as she thought Of her mothers
friend strangely absent; and when he at last
forced himself into a few words Of greeting,
they fell upon dull unheeding ears.
Then she had gone The lovers were
alone again; but he no longer opened wide
his arms, but instead drew chair to her
side that they might discuss more nationally.
"You must teach Dora to love you," she
said to him. II want first to recon-
cile her to my second marriage before start
ling her with it's possibility Tell me-do
YOU think her like me?"
"Your second self!''
''Ah, I am SO glad! You will love her then
for my sake?"
To love and be loved! Over easy task sat
by frail woman in her blindness. It must
be Mainwarring who must be Dora's COM
panion in her daily ride. Mr.. Mainwarring
who must teach her to manage the cookie
boat-for which he had sent to town-in
these first early spring days. The lovers
were seldom alone now.
Dora looked up at their guest as her
property. She had long ago laughinely
told him how unceremonious had been
his welcome to her, and how he had
and won his absolution.
Sometimes Barbara sighed as she watched
them together, while she sat alone, but she
gave to the sigh no name, and thought it
tribute to the vanished years.
One day came her awakening. Dora
and Mr.. Mainwarring had gone for their af-
ternoon ride, but it had extended beyond
it's wont, and she had grown anxious and
gone out to meet them, striking into the
foroct ,oth which wa g fhoir fovOrita wav