The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1884-10-03


in her hands is the first they have
heard of him all these long years.
II took but moment to send for
her father, and give their adieux TO
th,ir hostess, and finding the little girl
waiting at the gate, aud then direct
their drive to the address the little girl |
gave them
But it was a sudden change, to go |
from the grand mansion, with its beau
tiful grounds and gaslight, and music
and feasting, only few streets back,
INTO such depths of misery and filth and
wickeduess as they found themselves,
when the carriage stopped before
tumble-down looking building, with
broken windows and rickety steps.
Even Authine's step faltered as they
followed the quick step of the little
girl up broken stairways, down dark
passages, until the garret was reached
at last, hearing at every door the vilest
oaths, and often screams and blows.
Anthne had often visited the poor,
and to the sick and needy had often
brought clothes and delicacies, but
such misery she had read of, but
thought it stretch of vivid writer's
imagination-now she knew il to be
real.
| Opening a door that hung by one
hinge, they entered the room of death
| One tallow candle lighted the room,
but after the darkness of the hall, it
seemed quite bright, and showed plain
ly the straw bed in the corner, on
which lay gasping the little girls faith
er
1t seemed impossible that the faded
sallow face and attenuated form could
ever have been the dashing and fun
loving James.
"Oh, Thenia, / knew you would
come felt you must" said he fee
bly,, As he held out thin hand to each
of them. "God is good, when l least
deserve it,
"Tut, tut, boy why haven't you
, sent to us--nay, come to us, instead of
suffering like this" spoke out good
Mr.. Elleston.
"Oh, uncle, could not, until life
, was despaired OF, come to those have
so deeply injured! y
"Hush, hush, James you were wild,
but you never hurt us, and it is folly
> to talk 80. You must 60 home with
: us now
"Uncle-Antbine, your kindness
overpowers me me. Don't you see
can't you see that l am dying! and,
oh, must tell you while life lasts.
"Tell us what, James 2" asked An
thine softly, as she put her cool soft
! ! hand over his fevered forehead
"Thenia, do you remember your
, wedding night, seven years ago And
did you ever wonder why Paul never
came to you =
"Yes, yes, indeed. Tell me, do you
:, know why and unconsciously she
= drew nearer
,, "Oh, Thenis, it was some of my &C
i cursed folly. loved you and hated
, Paul, and was envious of him for hav-
1 ing won what was unworthy of. And
the morning before he expected to
start for you, he received letter tell
ing him you We're married to your
= cousin, James Holmes, and were to
start Immediately on your bridal-tour,
! bidding him forget you and seek some
u one more worthy. 70 that letter your
name was signed, Thenia, and it was
posted here. You know Paul's proud
heart, how such blow was death to
i him, ana how he sailed in the first yes
!. sci that left the harbor.
l 81 thought to win you then, Thenia,
but in your proud eyes | saw no hope
, of ever taking Paul's place, 80 | went
! away and found soft-voiced little
girl, who loved me only too well, and
only lived long enough after l called
: her wife to give me a little velvet
- checked baby, whom we christened
:, Ahthine, after you ; and then, with
that innocent baby looking into my
: eyes, wrote again to Paul and con-
fessed my ~ickedness. Directly, witch
!, new hopes, he came to you, but you re-
fused to see him. He wrote to you,
- but you returned his letter unopened,
and with saddened heart he began
anew, striving for fame and honor,
:, that you might know he was incapable
. of the base act of which you believed
u him guilty When he sought me he
. could not find me, until a few days
= ago. 1t was very wicked, Thenia, but
oh, forgive me" pleaded the dying
: man.
y at was wicked, James, but we were
taught to forgive" spoke up her clear,
:, = pure voice, though her eyes were full
- Of tears.
Poor James Holmes was weeping
: too, as he gathered his little girl closer
: but he was failing as they could see,
Suddenly his eyes frightened, and
j. he said feely
- There is his step on the stairs now
y Thank heaven he has not come toe
% late. can sec the hands clasped that
: | once separated,
n A moment more, and Paul Yelling
l. ton, in all his noble manhood, stood be
, fore them.
- One clasp of the sick mans hand
~ one look in Anthine's eyes, and tn,
= estranged ones were weeping in eacl
~ others arms.
10 Out of the darkness had come light
, Henceforth when they wept they woulC
- weep together.
T. Mr., Elleston grasped Paul's hand
- warmly, and then they turned to hin
y whose troubled look still told that life'
10 care was not yet ended. He was point
ing at his little daughter.
le ''She shall be cherished and caret
i, for" was Paul's solemn answer, as h'
Is put his hand on her curly head, while
her little eyes looked from one to an
u other in childish wonder.
I, All care was over He had sinnet
l. much, and mnch had been forgiven,
y The film of death was gathering
he now, but a settled peace came over hi
r. face, as his uncle prayed that HEAVIER
Y would be merciful, and then his sou
IN was borne from earth away,
e. Months after this, when the littl,
IN one had grown accustomed to her new
a home and her new relatives, there wa
a joyous but quiet wedding. Anthln'
u, is as queen-like and as beautiful a.