The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1884-01-23

4 r strange nor rare in the mercantile
world. In one brief word, he was
ruined; that is, so far as Il man is ru-
ined who has enough left to pay all his
creditors, and start in the world afresh
as a penniless honest man. lie told me
this-an everyday story; nay, il had
been my own father's-told it me with
great composure. and | listened with
the same. was acquainted with all
these kind of business matters of old.
1t was very strange, but felt no grief,
no pity for his losses. only felt, on
my own account, a burning, avaricious
thirst for gold; u, frantic envy--a mad
longing to have for single day, a single
hour, wealth in millions.
Yes, 1t must be SO, said he, when.
after talking to me a little more. saw
the hard muscles of his face relax, and
he grew patient, ready to bear his
troubles like man--like Andrew
Sutherland. Eyes, | must give up
this house and all my pleasant life here;
but | can do it since | shall be alone.'
And then he added in low tone: Il
am glad, Cassa, very glad of two
things: my mothers safe settlement.
and the winding-up last month of all
my affairs with--Miss lie Peer.
when, . said /, after pause" when
do you intend to tell Zillah what has
happened?n felt feverishly anxious
that she should know all, and that l
should learn how she would act.
Tell Zillah? Aye" he repeated,
tell her at once-tell her at once"
And then he sunk back into his chair.
mutterlng something about Its signify
ing little now
left him, and with my heart neryed.
as IT were. to anything. went back to
the room where Zillah was. Her eyes
met me with bitter, fierce, jealous
look---lealous of me, the foolish child!
until | told her what had happened to
our friend. Then she wept, but only
for moment, until light broke upon
her.
what does it signify?n cried she,
echoing, curiously enough, his own
words. II am of age--I can do Just
what like: | will give my guardian all
my money Go back and tell him sol''
hesitated.
"Go-quiek, quickl-all | have in the
world is not too good for him. Every
thing belonging to me is his, and"
Here she stopped, and catching my
liked looked, became covered with con-
fusion. Still the generous heart did
not WAIVER. And when he has my for
tune, you and will go and live togeth-
er. and be governesses.n
| felt the girl was in earnest nor
wished to deceive me; and though | let
her deceive herself little longer, it was
with joy-aye, with JOY, that in the
heart | clasped to mine was such I'M
selfishness- such true nobility. not UNI
worthy even of the bliss il was about
to win.
went once more through the hall i
the long, cool, silent, hall, which | trod
SO dizZily, daring not panse-mto Mr..
Sutherland's presence.
Well said he, looking up.
told-in what words | cannot now
remember; but solemnly, faithfully, as
if | were answering my account before
heaven the truth, and the whole
truth.
lie listened, pressing his hands upon
his eyes. and then gave vent to one
heavy sigh, like u woman's sob At
last he rose and walked feebly to the
door. There he paused, as though to
excuse his going.
Il ought to thank her, you know. 1t
must not be--not by any means; still |
ought to go and thank her-the dear
child,'
His voice ceased, broken by emotion.
Once more he held out his heaai /
praSpeu IL, ana SAID. TO.
At the parlor-door he stopped, appar-
emily for me to preeede him in enter
ing there; but, as if accidentally,
Whether he knew it or not, | knew
clear as light what would happen then
and there.
The door shut,-the two being with
III, and without.
In an hour came back toward the
house.
/ had been wandering somewhere, |
think under the firwood 1t was broad
noon. but | felt very cold; il was al
ways cold under those trees. | had no
way to pass but near the parlor Win
dow; and the same insane attraction
made me look up as | went by.
They were standmg-they two-close
together, as lovers stand. His arm
folded her round; his Face. all radiant,
yet trembling with tendt rness, was
pressed upon hers -Oh, my God.
am half inclined to blot out the last
sentence. as, growing Older, one feels
the more how rarely and how sOlemnly
the Holy Name ought to be mingled
with any mere burst of human emotion.
But think the All-merciful One would
pardon it then. OF course no reader
will marvel at my showing emotion
over the union of these my two dearest
objects on earth.
From that union can now truly say
| have derived the greatest comfort of
my life. They were married quickly,
as urged; Mr.. Sutherland settling his
wife's whole property upon herself
This was the only balm his manly pride
could know, and no greater proof could
he give of his passionate love for her,
than that he humbed himself TO marry
an heiress. AS TO what the world
thought. no one could ever suspect the
shadow of mercenary feeling in An
drew Sutherland All was rs it should
be-and so best.
After Zilah's marriage. | took a stu
alton abroad. Mr.. Sutherland was very
angry when he knew: bit told him
longed foi. the soft ltal an ain and could
not live an idle life on any account. So
they let me go. knowing, as he smiling
~ said, That Cassia could be obstinate
when she ehose-that her viii, like her
heart, was as firm as a rock All me!
When came back, it was to a calm.
contented and cheerful middle age; to
the home of dear brother and sister;
TO the love of new generations; to a
life filed with peace Of heart and
tliankflllness toward God: to-
IIey-day, writing is this moment be-
come quite impossible; for there peeps
in face at my bedroom door. and,
while live, not for worlds shall my
Young folks know that Aunt Cassa is
an authoress. Therefore goodbye, penl
And now come in, my namesake, my
darling. my fairhaired cassia, with her
mothers smile and her fathers eyes
and brow--l may kiss both now. All,
God in heaven bless thee, my dear dear
child,