The Republican journal., 1881-07-28
groom, he went into the house, and made

"dluoColtu III odh, duu Win carved Odkeu
furniture, heavy and substantial-a pat
tern OF hundred years ago, which had
grown richer with time. A deep bay
window was full of plants in brilliant
bloom. A southern bird or two, in a low
hung cage, sang above the flowers. A
few modern easy chairs, in wicker work,
workstand strewn with -colored
worsteds, and a desk of modern shape,
but repeating the carved oak of the old
fashioned furniture, gave to the room
| that look of being comfortably lived in,
without which no amount of elegance
has any salient charm.
In a low chair, before the desk. Mrs
| Tretethen sat. Her husband had been
dead SO many years, that the black she
invariably wore had in its richness no
suggestion of mourning. She was state
ly dame, slender though TALL with black
eyes, whose fire time had not dimmed,
though they were just now quenched by
not unbecomng tears Young she was
| not, but you could never associate her with
age. She had the same kind of beauty
| Will possessed, but with an added grace
and dignity; not the result, however, Of
any deep experiences, for she was q
woman who had always liz ed in the pres
ent rather than the past or the future.
She liked Helen, and was ready, at
any time, to abdicate in TIelen's behalf
| her household throne; but she came no
nearer to understanding herfuture daugh-
| torin-laW than Will himself did. Be-
tween mother and son there was not only
great likeness, bat great unity. He had
come home now, ready to pour into her
| listening ear his veNation that, for the
first time in his life, he could not have his
own Way-that Helen would not be mar
ried until she had ready Just the conven,
tlOnal amount of tOggeries. But, at the
sight of his mothers tears, he was all
tenderness and all sympathy in a mo-
ment. Tears were a rare thing with
Mrs. Trcfethen, and Will knelt beside
her, urgent to solve their mystery.
"What is it, mother? What can have
grievcd You y
II am not grieved, | think | am glad
but the past came back to me 50 when |
read this letter."
Will took the sheet she put into his
hand, and glanced first ut the signature
it was from his 'Aunt Julia"-as ne had
been always taught to call her-hs
| mothers cousin, who had been brought
up with her like sister, and, in early
youth had married Il Spanish gentleman,
and gone away with him to Cuba Mrs.
Tretethen had married soon after herself,
and the cousins had seldom heard from
each other since. Some subtle undertone
Of sadness in Madame Martinez's intre-
qucnt letters had convinced her cousin
that her life was not happy. though no
confidential disclosures had ever been
made. But now an end had come. Senor
Martinez was dead, ana his widow told
the truth at last.
''Do not mock me W tn condolences" T"
she wrote. Il have borne much, but that
| could not bear My life has been one
long lie and one long agony. loved my
husband i'll the beginning, Or at least |
thought so: but he crushed that love ln-
der lis heel such ages ago that ! cannot
remember it. Since then have just gone
Oh living, because God would not let me
die. told no one not You even-for
there WAS no help. Just bore my doom,
and | am an Old, Old woman now, when
you, suppose, are young and bright.
shall not live long. | thought | was al
most through with time and sorrow when
he died-died 50 suddenly that it was
awful. He was thrown in Il horse race
and dragged, and they brought him home
dead. When looked at him knew that
my face kndled with great light of re
lief. and then was frightened. thought
he would see it in my eyes, and get up
and curse me. But he did not stir, and he
is buried now, with stone pile over him
heavy enough to keep him down. as he
kept me down once. | only want one
thlng-tO see you once more before | die
and to leave my little Julia in your care.
She will be no burden, for she has money
enough for every want, only she needs
some one to love her. have some bust
ness arrangements to make before start,
and shall wait for letter from You. |
will not come until you have signitied nv
welcome. have not much faith left IN
any human love, but | have still little
in yours"
Will looked up, his face full Of emotion,
us he finished reading. "Of course YOU
will send her letter at oncc"'
''l don't know. 4 letter seems so cold
should 90 to her Immediately ifI thought
| were strong enough to bear the sea voy-
age. Perhaps ann
Will OWNED her wishes instantly. II
will go, mother 1t will pass away the
time while | am waiting for Helen. | will
bring Aunt Julia and the child home
The steamer leaves New York the day
after tomorrow, and | will start from
here Tomorrow
His mother kissed him, smiling on him
tondly and proudly through her tears
'1 ou were always my good boy, Will"
And then she thought to herself that she
hoped Helen would appreciate her son,
and realize what Il treasure she was Win
ming.
There was a great charm about Will
Tretethen. He was weak in many ways,
though not wicked. He lived in eXternals
chiefly, and was guided by impulses rather
than principles; and yet many a better
man has been far less dear to his own kith
and kin, his own womankind, especially
He was selfish enough, but it was in a
sunny, unconscious way, which veXed no
one, and he was always ready to be kind.
He possessed an almost perfect temper,
and a cheerfulness which seldom varied.
The next morning he went to bid Helen
good-by, and told her the story Of his
mothers cousin. Her quick, womanly
sympathles were enlisted at once.
''Of course You must go, Will, she said,
earnestly. at was like you to see the
right and be so prompt to do it,"
Then she called him her royal knight,
for she had a trick Of gIorifying with her
fine imagination everything he did, and
he OF accepting the homage with a gra
cious condescension, as if it were his due,
no more, no less.
just at the end of their talk he said
'And while | am gone, Helen, you must
promise to begin on the tineries, and be
ready, when | come back, to tell me how
soon | may carry you home. The old
place will not be just right till Helen is
in it,"
And then he took her close in his arms
and gave her one long fond kiss. Helen
thought, with a great strangling sigh,
what if it should be the last-what if that
bright, curling head should 90 where no