Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1883-07-18

At last. You know what we sang this
morning when we went into church. that
quite decided me. Graham.if Aunty will
let me, if you don't mind. would be hap
better to GO home
..Are you hot out here DO you really
wish to 90 homes'- asked Graham, at
tempting to rise carelessiy. but puiiing
his hat q little over his face.
II mean home to my father"
.Such whims little girls sometimes
take" he answered, stroking her hair
softly. Come. it is tea-time. you know. :"
Graham. really. really mean it. o.
listen. please" :.
u will not believe you mean il. Nettie.
be said huskily. MIR. O'Neill has made
no effort to recall you. has never been as
a father to yon. How can you set him be-
fore us who love you SO dearlys 1t is
cruel to US if it be not cruel To yourself"
80, hnsh," she cried, covering her face
suddenly. Il thought you would help me
to see what was right"
..Do you trust to me to show you. DEAR
Yes"
Then it is this: to stay and be dear,
little, helpful daughter to your mothers
sister, and to be-O, it would take me a
long time to say what-to some one else.
whose claim | hope to make stronger than
a father's-stronger, hundred times,
than such fathers as yours"
IL seem TO know only three people in
the world" said Nettie with a piteous
sadness in her great innocent eyes. land
YOU make me cast off one of them, or
two"
mot |. dear" said Graham eagerly.
..it was he who did it first, this loving
father of yours. Let US talk no more of
him. Here is your rose; it will soon
brighten up the sad, little face"
ssThose words we sang have haunted
me ever since. Graham" she said, walk
ing slowly beside him. looking up into
his face with eyes he could not fathom.
~ will arise and 60 to my Father DO
Won rememberp''
That father was generous. loving
one, dear" he answered. gently, ''else
his son would not have gone back to him.
you may be sure. Here is mother COM
ing to the door to look for US. How she
will smile at your latest notion. dear"
Nettiera up to her room when they
reached the house, and Mrs. Lyttleton
turned to her son.
wv hats the matter with the cnlIu, IRA
ham?'
IL expect she will tell YOU herself" he
said fretfully as he stood opposite her,
leaning against the doorway; Il think
she is hankering after that miserable life
you rescued her from"
Nonsense! it is impossible, DEAR
81 fear it is so. mother. Some ridcu-
lous notion of duty seems to have been
always in her head. You know how hap
py she has been; you know how changed
she is. Surely you will be able to con-
vince her that it would be sinful to degen-
crate again into the poor, little, ill-used
Hush, dear; all that will not be neces-
sary. She can not really mean it, she is
so happy with us.''
II have thought so, but l suppose we
do not understand her," he said, speaking
YEARLY. "She will be sure to speak of it
again tonight, and we must try what our
united persuasions will do"
| The Sunday twilight crept down the
distant hills. and the quiet valley rested
under its dropping wings; but the shad-
ow of those soothing wings fell heavily
and sadly upon the little group around
that open window, through which the
summer evening fragrance crept in WOO
ingly.
Continued Tomorrow