Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1882-11-28

i
was tearing her soul.
When Mr.. Morgan left her he though
his love for her was dead. But he lit
knew his own heart. and soon found the
he had never loved her so well as nov
Yet he would not make any overtures
a reconciliation. The advance must com
from her, he said, not knowing how glad
ly she would have made it had she be
lieved there was the slightest hope h
would think her penitent and take he
back to his heart again.
So six years passed away. six years c
suffering to both, and now on this blesse
Thanksgiving night, when every one els
was full of happiness in the present ant
hope for the future, Henry Morgan sa
gazing into the fire, thinking of the wo
man he loved SO we'll, and whom he be
lieved lost to him.
Suddenly Mrs. Morgan started ant
listened intently.
Ibid you hear anything, Henry =
she asked nervously.
Nothing, mother" he replied abrupt
ly.
." am sure | heard sound like somt
one sobbing," she said, land it seemed
to be outside of that window"
1t was your fancy, mother" he sale
with sad smile.
But as he spoke the sound was heard
again, this time too plain to be doubted
and it came from without the low win
dow which opened on the lawn. Mr.
Morgan rose hastily and walked to the
window. The moonlight showed him q
woman lying in the snow beneath the
window. She was still and motionless
and the sobbing bad ceased. He threw
up the sash and sprang out. Lifting the
woman in his arms he turned to carry hel
into the house. AS he did so the moon
light fell on her features and he staggered
as il he had received sudden blow. He
bore her quickly into the warm room.
90 mother" he cried, in trembling
voice. 4" she has come back"
Then he laid her gently on the low
couch in the room, and sinking into a
chair covered his face with his hands,
while his mother busted herself in trying
TO restore the unconscious woman.
1t was indeed Margaret Morgan, and
she has come back to risk everything up
on an effort to regain her husbands heart.
She was still very beautiful, but her face
had deep marks of care and suffering in
it. At last she opened her eyes and
looking around asked family:
Where am :"
a, home, dear" said the mother
kindly, for great hope had sprung up
in her heart in the few minutes Marga-
ret had been there.
lis it you, mother or am dreaming:
she asked, gazing at the elder woman
fxedly.
Yes, dear. You are with US once
again, and hope you have come to stay" d"
was the answer.
"You are very good, mother" she
said. Then she asked timidly, Would
my-would he care:"
He shall tell you for himself" said
the mother gently.
Margaret lay with her eyes closed, and
an expression of deep sadness on hel
features.
Il have been very unhappy mother
she said. 81 don't blame Henry for leav-
ing me, for was wicked woman. But
| loved him very much. | never knew
how much until he left me. Then
found that loved him more than life it
self. But it was too late then, mother
1t was very hard but l knew my punish
ment was just. For six years | hav'
borne it, but it has nearly broken m,
heart. To-day | could bear it no longer
and came here. / left the cars at tn
station, and walked here through tn
snow. When l tried to come in m
courage failed me, and | fell in the SNOW
where you found me. / have come back
mother, to ask my husbands forgiveness
l have no excuse for my unwifely con
duct. l slnned, but l have suffered 10
it. l have come back to say this to m
acknowledgements and love. l can
not live without them. Do YOU think
mother, he will forgive me, and love m
once more?"
Always, and forever, darling"
1t was the voice, not the words, tina
thrilled her. With glad cry she un
closed her eyes, and saw bending owe
her the face Of her husband. He gaze
at her long and tenderly, but neithe
spoke. Then he bent down and kisse
her softly, and Margaret knew that sh
was forgiven, and that her husbands Low