Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1882-07-27

MT. DerWent.
"You're right there, neighbors.
Bring him right in," said the farmer.
His wife led the way to her best bed
room, next the parlor. Tom sprang on
the back of his swift sorrel colt and set
off for the doctor.
Half an hour later the supper-table
was cleared, the supper dishes were
washed and put away, and Alice Der
went sat pensively by the kitchen fire,
while her mother and father were busy
with the doctor in the spare-room; and
Tom, hurrying to and fro on their er-
rands, stepped once or twice to inform
her that the stranger was young and
handsome, but was dressed like q
laborer, and that the doctor said sit
was near chance whether he lived or
died"
Two week passed on. The doctor
came and went each day; the neighbors
far and near volunteered their services
all except Squire Seaton, who lived
his usual secluded life in his great
mansion, buried in his books, and knew
nothing of the stranger who lay at
deaths door.
"Poor boy Alice, 1 wish you would
go in and sit beside him awhile" said
Mrs. Derwent, on the first evening of
the third week of illness. "He is
asleep now. II he wakes you can call
me. II we only knew his people I
would send for them. I fear he will
not last long,"
Alice c,ept in 'and took her place in
the nurses chair. Tears of pity dimmed
her eyes as she looked at the wasted
figure in the bed--the pale, thin face,
the fast-closed eyes, the hollow tenn
pies under the waving brown hair.
"I wish his mother or father would
come" she said, aloud.
The heavy lids opened. Two deep
blue eyes looked at her imploringly.
"My fatherp whispered the sick
man. "Bring him tell him-I was
coming-Seaton-Seaton-"
The faint voice died away-the eyes
again were closed.
Alice stood an instant like one struck
dumb. She had never noticed the re.
semblance before; but now she could
trace the firm lines of the old squire's
countenance in TIT pale, pinched face.
Sleeping still? That is q good
sign," said her mother, coming in,
ready to resume her pl4oe for the
night.
Alice hesitated a moment, Never
before had she acted by or kor herself
in any matter of moment.
But the sound of voices might arouse
the slumberer. Her father and Tom
hsd gone on household errand to
the village; there was no one else to
consult.
Finally, she threw on her waterproof,
drew it's hood over her head, end sped
across the valley to Squire seaton's
house.
Even the well.tralped servant wore
an astonished face as he nsAered this
mysterious visitor into saster's
study.
Squire Seaton looked up from his
book, and his usual pallor increased to
a ghastly hue as he listened to the
breathless girl.
"My sonny boy-my Philip at
your fathers houseP And dying, you
fear2 Asking for me? Coming to me2
Wait, childl I'll go with you, of course
I'll go to my poor boyl But-the
room is turning round-I think I must
be going blindp
Alice sprang to his side. The gray
head fell on her shoulder. Tenderly
she smoothed the silvery hair away
from the high fore head and bathed the
pale face with the cold water and fra
grant essences which the frightened
servant brought.
The old man revived, to find her
ministering to him thus. And it was
almost like father and daughter that
they took their way across the valley
together, he leaning on her arm and
listening greedily to all that she could
tell him OF his long.absent, long
mourned son.
"It is my fathers voice hear his
stepi shall get we'll if he will only
forgive me y said the invalid, greatly
to Mrs. Derwent's surprise, as the
house door softly opened to strangers
touch.
He struggled up from his pillows,
resisting her attempt to 500 the him.
"Father, / am sorry-iorgive mer
n