The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1885-06-10

their position aud their wealth;
and they never forgaye this only
daughter and sister that she left
them for a man Of obscure paren.
tsge and without means tosupport
her as they had done. My father
at that time, was clerk in a dry.
goods house in New York, with a
small salary.
II would not wrong my mother;
but my uncle said she grew peeyish
and soured by the contact with
poverty, aud constantly fretted for
the luxuries she had voluntarily
resigned. Ny father worshiped
her It might have been his loving
desire togratify her, or a sudden
greed for wealth, 1 cannot tell; but
be forged his employers check for
twenty thousand dollars. Mother
was too little acquainted with bus
iness to question the sudden influx
of money; but the crime was de-
tected, my father arrested, tried,
convicted and sent to the States
prison fora term Of years. he died
their in six months; but my moth.
er had already preceded him to the
grave.
"Her last wish, her last appeal,
was to my grandfather and unclei
begging them to pay the money
and clear my fathers name. They
refused. After she died they took
me home, and never knew a want
but they Ignored and repudiated
my father, though my uncle believ.
ed he died truly penitent man.
an my uncls's desk, after he
died, / found the papers relating
to The forgery and my poor moth.
er's passionate appeals to him to
pay the money so wrongfully tax.
en-. She took all the blame upon
herself, rspsntingi when too late,
her repining and discomfort, and
her extravagant expenditure Of the
stolen money.
"My first impulse was to yield to
her prayer, even after so many
years, and pay at once the amount
Of the forged check still in the
hands Of the firm who employed
my father, but my uncle probably
knew what / would desire, for he
SO willod his money to me that l
can never touch the principal
Frank, with my mothers letters be.
fore me, l vowed never TO spend
one dollar in any luxury-one cent
more than the merest necessities
required-until the debt was paid
that haunted her deathbed. For
six years have saved all my in.
come, adding to it a portion of the
rent Of the house my uncle left me.
| have Jared poorly, dressed plain.
ly, and added little by little To my
hoard by closest economy and care" "
"PoOr child What a lifel"
~ was not unhappy. Martha
knew all, aad far more friend than
setvent, and when my friends gave
me up, l thought of my mother,
and was comforted."
"But you say you are free, Ruth" ."
IT am free. sent the money to
the firm last week, and today, only
today, have received and destroy.
ed the check, the last proof Of my
fathers crime. The gentleman
wrote me such aletter, Frank, that
/ am sure they will always respect
my secret"
"ob, i'll had only been here,
Ruth, to give you a home aud pro.
lection, to make your life happy
by my love, while you saved your
own means for your holy purpose y
"It could not have been, Frank
l would have never burdened your
life with my duty to the dead"
"But now, Ruth2 You are free
now, and you will be mine! Mine
to cherish and protectl Mine to
guard from all want and all sorrow
in the future"
"Ffankl Frank you forgetl''
Ruth cried, her face deathly pale,
her large, dark eyes dilatod with
pain,
"Forgetl"
81 am not the happy child You
left. lam called a miser, an ava.
ricious, hard woman, whose sordid
soul looks for nothing beyond mon.
ey, 1 am thrust out of society for
mymean dress, and my old friends
pass me by"
"A good reason for one to hold
you fast"
a am not even Ruth Wexford,
Frank, but Ruth Mayburn, the
child Of a detected fOrgOr, who died
in the State prison"