Sacramento daily record-union., 1882-05-06

the prayers offered through sleepless nights
and weary, anxious days. Now, might it
not be that his hopes were to be slain at .
breath, as the tender, springing herb by
one night of biting frost? With quickened
pulse and breath he broke the seal of
Cuthbert's letter.
What were the words he read!
"Since l have been here. it has seemed,
dear father, as though scales have fallen
from my eyes. Is it too late, wonder, for
me to win your love and trust once more,
to try and make some reparation for the
past, l have friend beside me as write
who tells me that it is never too late to
mend. 1t is this friend who has led me to
strive after better things who has shown
me the possibility of retracing all the past.
The whole thing has been so strange, so
wonderful, hardly know how to tell you
OF it, or to explain it even to myself. l
first went with Mrs. Coveney to see this
new friend of mine. Then l went alone.
Then / could not bear single day without
going. There seemed some strange kind Of
influence that drew us the one to the other
this dear sweet woman and me. She is
quite old, her hair is white, and turned
back over high cushion, like an old
picture. Her face is perfectly beautiful,
and has no color in it except the darkness
of her eyes. They are eyes which seem to
look you through and through. The first
time l saw her, it was wonderful; you
would almost have thought sne had known
me all my life. She held my hand in hers.
and as she looked at me saw two bright
tears gather in her eyes. l cannot tell you
how the friendship between US grew it
started into life at once, think, like
Jonah's gourd that grew all in night
have told her all the past. have kept
nothing back; not even things that it
hurt dreadful to tell. There never
was any one in the world so easy
to tell things to and, as she talks to
you, she makes you feel that you would
rather do anything in all the world
than give her cause to be sorry about any.
thing ever again. l see have not told
you her name. 1t is Mannering-Miss
| Mannering-for she is what l suppose
would be called an old maid She is very
rich, and all the poor people round about
here look upon her as their best friend.
| Mrs. Coveney says she has given, at differ
ent times, large sums of money to help the
poor in our crowded cities. Isn't it like
beautiful story, But l must not forget
the sad side of it. This dear lady is almost
always suffering. She cannot walk about
| like other people, but lies all day long
upon q couch near the window of her room,
where she can see the lake. She says she
loves to watch the changing shadows that
pass across its surface, and hardly knows
whether she loves it best on a sunny day
or cloudy one. l heard lady say to
Mrs. Coveney the other day that poor
Miss Mannering's life hung upon thread
| So this is the sad side of my story, you see;
but l am glad with all my heart that
have seen and known her before that
slender thread has snapped in two. l want
you and my dearest mother to try and be-
lieve in me just little. It will help me
more than anything else in the struggle
which must come to see that you do, how.
ever little it may be. 1t must be hard
thing for you to forget and forgive the past,
and to put some faith in the future but,
dear father try to do all these things for
me !"
We can most OF us hear great sorrow
once we brace ourselves to meet it but
the touch of an unlooked.for joy is some
times more than the full heart can endure.
| w ucu uC uhu ICau buuo ldl III uib DOJ
letter, Ruthven Dyott crossed the room
sharply, sat down beside his desk, hid his
face upon his arms, and broke out crying
like child.
Sometimes in black and stormy sky
tiny rift appears, through which strug-
Cling sunbeam strikes the world"
The bitter home sorrow which had come
upon Ruthven Dyott and his wife Alice
had ofttimes made them feel like weary
travellers beneath a sunless sky.
Now came the rift overhead and the
sun.ray of hope. Ruthven saw his wife's
sad face soften to smile; noted a new
buoyancy in her step lifting of the
misty dimness that had stolen the light
| from her eyes.
She was none of those jealous mothers
who grudge to see the working Of any in.
huepce save their own in the lives of their
children. Only let her be sure that in
fuence was for good and she could thank
heaven for it as welcome boon. She set
in her prayers the name OF this new friend
whom Cuthbert had grown to love; she
knew that the hand which should lead him
back to the lost pathway of rectitude must
lead him back to her-his mother.
She felt as if her boy, innocent and
loving, was about to be given back to her.
| When the Sunday came round it SO
CHANGED that the lesson for the day con.
tanned the parable of the prodigal son, and
as Alice listened to the exultant cry, 'For
this my son was dead and is alive again,
was lost and is found, her husband saw
the big tears gather and fall, and knew
that they were tears of Joy.
For Cuthbert's father and mother be.
lieved in the sincerity of his repentance,
believed in the reality of his determination
for the future, and Alice had written to
him letter that no one else, not even her
husband, ever saw-a letter in which she
poured forth all her heart, speaking of the
past as blotted out, of the future as radiant
with hope and firm resolve.
They began to look for Cuthbert's return
home, and were full of plans for his well
fare. Hitherto he had cast aside all oppor.
tunities of making career for himself in
life; now things would be different. He
would work with them, not pull against
them.
But instead of the expected arrival came
a summons.
dearest father" wrote the boy, Will
you come up here as quickly as you can
An old friend wants to see you. If you do
not come at once you will come too late.
Miss Mannering was once Millicent War.
ner. She had to change her name to take
possession of some property but she says
you will remember the name she bore in
days long past. Father, she has been SO
much to me, will you not do as she asks,
and come and see her before she dies? She
is SO feeble one can hardly hear her speak.
Yesterday we thought she would not live
till night"
"Oh, Ruthven cried his wife, edo
not lose an hour-go and tell her how
| Cuthbert's mother blesses her name go
and see your old friend, dear husband !"
So Ruthven Dyott took hurried journey
north, to take last farewell of the woman
he had loved long years ago, and to whom
be owed debt Of gratitude which never
could be paid for death was stepping in
to claim the future.