St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1881-02-04


He was proud man, too, and as
honest as he was proud. He could not
bear to think of any loss inflicted in his
name, and was determined to submit
to any sacrifice, even of personal and
private nature, if only he could vindi-
cate his honor, and avoid the slightest
stain on his commercial fame.
As yet, he had said nothing to his
wife. He had put off telling her, think
ing-alas vainiy-that they would
improve at last, and the impending
danger pass away. He had found it
hard to play the hypocrite-if he bad
loved her less he would have felt it less
and to support so great load with
out her loving sympathy to share it,
was about as hard fate as he could
bear.
He resolved, accordingly, to acquaint
her, to disclose to her that same even
ing the actual state of his affairs, and
the personal sacrifice which they in
volved. He did not for a moment
doubt her courage-her cheerful resig-
nation and submission to the change
but he trembled in anticipation of the
shock the first disclosure would con-
vey, and the dread anxiety that must
ensue.
Firm in his resolve, however, he
closed his desk, and, passing out into
the street, proceeded up Broadway on
his journey home.
1t was a cold and bracing evening,
clear and sparkling overhead, and the
stars, superbly glittering, returned each
passing salutation with a smile.
How much he needed sympathy then
He thought of the loving, kind recep-
ton which awaited him at home-his
wife's sweet greeting, and the children's
shouts of welcome. The very thought
of them was happiness. His wealth
might go, but they would still remain.
they were his richest treasures, after all
his greatest comfort, and his sweetest
blessing. They were all the dearer to
him now and the sense of their united
love would make the trial easier for all.
1t might be but short one in the end.
He would work with greater ardor than
he ever had, and in IA little while-a
few years at the latest-he might re-
cover all his present losses. 1t would
be but temporary abandonment of
their old home, their habits and ways
of life; things would all come right at
last. And in the fervor of his brighter
heart and feelings, he quickened his
pace, and struck out manfully for home.
He arrived at the door as it was
striking six o'clock. His younger chill
dren ran to meet him, and climbed up
on his knees, and threw their arms
around his neck to demonstrate their
joy. He kissed them fondly one by
one, and then proceeded, with an ach-
ing heart, upstairs.
He met his wife on the way. She
had heard his voice, and was coming
down herself to greet him; and in an
other moment she was in his arms.
"YOu are late, da1ling,r she exclaim
ed, reproachfully. eve expected you
two hours ago. There is nothing wrong,
is there ?"
81 will tell you by and BY" he an
swered, forcing a smile. "Wait till the
children are in bed, and we can have a
quiet talk alone. | have not time to
tell you now"
She looked up at him, and, with her
woman's tact, perceived that there was
n trouble in his heart. "Well,r she re-
piled, 'don't think about it now, what
ever it may be. Let US go down to
tea, and, after supper, Eva will give
you some music.n
After supper they ascended to the
parlOr, and, according to custom, John
Landor had prayers. He prayed with
special earnestness that evening, and
several times his voice faltered. Even
baby was impressed, and, after prayers
were over, ran up to him, and threw
her arms around his neck in sympathy.
He kissed her, and took her on his
knee, while Eva played for him his fa-
vOrite pieces; and when the child had
gone, his wife sat down beside him.
and whispered words of comfort in his
ear.
At length they were alone-and then,
in calm and manly way, he told hel
all.
The tears started to her eyes, and
she would no doubt have broken down
but remembering his own heaviness
and anxious to avoid him any further
pain, she smiled and kissed him tender
ly. "And why did you not tell me
this before ~ smiling sadly through hel
tears.
Il had not courage" he replied
speaking more at ease, "and l hoped
besides, that each day things would
brighten. But they turned, alas from
bad to worse, until the bitter end ar
rived"
"And you have borne this load e
sorrow all alone ?" she said, reprovingly
"My poor love !"
He drew her to his heart, and told
haK. Nl,af he -
the depth of her devotion and her love
"And now," she said, "we will senC
away the servants, and rent a cheaI
apartment elsewhere and | will give
music lessons, while Eva stays at home
to attend to the children"
He told her, with thankful smile
that things could never be so bad al
that
And then be told her of his futur,
hopes and plans.
1--WE are confronted by a heavy trial
and our duty will involve much bite
sacrifice. But let us trust in God, anC
be brave. And it will all come right a
last"
She pressed his hand, and then sh,
drew the picture of their future home
with all the altered details of thei
lives; changed in respect to world!
station, but as truly blessed and happy
and as fruitful of internal good, as an!
lot in life could be.
He was resigned and tTustful now
though, doubtless, care and trouble
lurked within, but under the control
the soft, benign control, of nObler feel
ings.
Aud thus the old year yielded to tn
new.
at will not be as happy as the last,
John Landor said, as he embraced hi
wife the following morning "but God