Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1885-10-17
STANDARD McMINNVIILE TENNEssRE4sATURDAY ocF7 1885

wrote to my father, but again my
letter has come back to me unopened.
How can | ever soften his heart
toward me if he will never read my
letters? l weary for his forgiveness!
l am doing well here, and my salary
will allow some little comforts for
Lucy and the boy beside mere neces-
sites; but / long to hear my father
say, Ned, / forgive you.
eff you knew Lucyin her life here,
ifyou could see how patiently she
bears every privation, how loving
she is when we are still so poor, how
careful she is never to reproach me
for what she has suffered, you would
not wonder that l cannot say Father
| am sorry l married herr II am not;
| never can be sorry for that, yet /
do sorrow over my fathers anger.
"Will you not see him for me,
plead for me? Tell him / care moth
ing for his wealth; we can live hap
PLY in our humble fashion, but /
long unutterably to hear his voice in
forgiveness, to clasp his hand, to
know he loves me again! Plead for
me, Aunt Matte. He must be lone
ly, and my heart aches for his loneli-
ness.
"Lucy sends love and this tiny lock
of young Simon's hair.
Lovingly, Ned"
"Simon?"
Mattie's voice was solemn in its
earnest tone of pleading.
Simon, you will not die without
forgiving your boy, Mary's boy, who
saved your life at the risk of his own,
who loves you so truly"
Simon Hartright lifted his face
from the cushions, where it had been
, hidden. Upon the wasted cheeks
tears stood like great diamonds, and
the voice was broken and hoarse that
said:
, "Send for my boy, Mattiep
Gladly the message was written
and sent to the telegraph office:
/ TO Mr.. EDWARD HARTRIGHT
No. 81 street, New York: You
father wishes to see you. Come al
. once. He is dangerously i'll.
= MATTE CoLwELL.
S The evening shadows were creep
, ing over the great room where Simon
a Hartright waited. for the dread sum
s mons he knew could not long be de
: layed. Matte Colwell had not lef
him. By every sweet memory cher
l ished in her soul she had KEEP
e alive the tender, forgiving spirit he
a words had already wakened in tn
r fathers heart.
The agitation of the morning hat
s added much to the invalid's suffer
y ings, and, as evening came on, tn
gentle loving watcher feared the sol
n would come too late for his father
words of reconciliation. He ha
e been doing uneasily when he SUD
T. denly started awake.
le "The will Matte, we forgot tn
IS will 1t is in the drawer. Burn i
d Matte Tell Ned there is legac
D. for yOu-$10,O0O! If the will stanC
r. my boy is disinherited. sBurn i
N Mattiew
le With trembling hands Simon Har
W right drew from the drawer I'll
D. will that left his son a beggar, an
y thrust it into Matte Colwell's han,
lg "Burn it Let me see it burn
IN he said feverishly; and with cage
ness and gladly Matte laid the pap
OF upon the burning Goals of the graf
Ell While they watched it burn the
was noise of rapid horses feet,
IL roll of wheels, hustle at the doc
ne and quick feet upon the stairs.
&c "Ned! Ned ~
ol The voice of the sick man rang o
III clear and shrill, and was answer,
,oi by a loud cry.
no "Father, am comingw
ny Then Matte stole out of the roo
ny as tall figure rushed in, and n
es' Hartright knelt beside his fathel
ne chair, to feel warm tears upon ]
au face, the clasp of loving arms, t
III heart-broken words of blessing a
lie welcome.
In the hall Matte found a lit
~ ~ figure waiting in bewildered patiel
,o,, for welcome, and took upon hers
~ the Office of hostess to the blue-ey
- wife, for whose sake Ned had dal
:, his fathers anger and imperiled
len inheritance. Matte took Lucy il
leu thewarm drawing-room, ordered s