The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1886-07-15


run short, write to me, and you will find me
no bad banker when the account has to be
overdrawn."
"Thank you again, the young fellow On
swered. "And that offer l do accept You
understand me, don't youl If l can manage
without any mans help should be glad; but
rather than fail, 1 should most gratefully
avail myself of yours. hope you don't think
me proud to the point Of Stiffness"
"Confound it" cried GoldmOre, "I wish you
were my sonW
And the great man marched away down
the street as like the Tower of Babel as ever,
only in a silk hat and other human fittings.
But Goldmore is on the right side of things,
for all his pomp and seeming hardness.
Little Mrs Barbara Temple showed singu-
lar mixture of astuteness and good feeling in
her management of the affair from this time
until Percivals departure. She took care to
impress on the lover the fact that all engage
ment, understanding, hope, and whatever
else could bind himself and Sophia together,
was utterly at an end. She repeated several
times that her duty as Sophia's mother was
to see that her future was not embarrassed
by foolish obligations hastily taken up, and
perhaps retained from a sense Of honor when
inclination would cast them off, She told
Brent that in all human probability Sophia
would marry some one else in twelve months.
Thus she put herself in the position of being
able, with perfect honesty, to assure Sophia
at any future day that Percival Brent neither
did nor could expect her to wait for him
And having thus made her position good,
with rare moderation, or rather far-sighted
ness, she did not prevent the young couple
meeting occasionally during the few weeks
that interviewed between the breaking of the
engagement and Brent's departure for Aus
tralia.
Mrs. Barbarba Temple went yet further in
the way Of good-natured concession. On the
day when Brent came to take his final leave
she continued to be out Of the way, sending
an apology by Sophia for her absence. 1t
was a courageous act, but worldly wise, I
presume, like all she did. / believe to the
day of her mothers death Sophia never for
got this particular concession 1t showed
such trust in her daughter, such kind desire
not to deprive her of any secret comfort
which the parting might give. In fact, it
was an act Of womanly generosity and cour-
age of which few mothers would have been
capable. But have not said already that
our little mother was as truly queen Of
women as Agamemnon was king of men2
Sophia tried to be cheerful that dull May
afternoon; for she saw that her poor fellows
heart was breaking. Indeed, he could hardly
speak one word She had to tell him of a
magnificent present which she had made to
him in secret and which was now waiting for
him in London. This was a set of foreign
travelling boxes, furnished with everything
the good little creature could think of as be-
ing possibly of use to her dear when he was
far away. | wish | could give catalogue
of the articles in leather, glass, steel, silver;
how she had slipped into one part Bible and
prayer book; the little medicine chest, with
book, under the guidance Of which you could
heal yourself of any disease; down to needles
and thread-"stout thread for buttons"
her account of it read like shopmans cata-
logue. She grew SO interested in her clever
ness and forethought that she half forgot the
impending parting Bless the heart OF
woman, how it lives in the present, and will
not realize the future, be it ever so near
Then, blushing, she told him of one particu-
lar little pocket in one particular little leather
case, which he was never to open unless he
happened to want money very badly. He
might have lost everything, and not be able
to get back to England In that case let him
open that pocket. He might be very i'll, and
have nothing to pay the doctor. In that case
let him open the pocket In any capital and
inextricable difficulty let him open that
pocket. Poor Sophial the savings of thrifty
years, and the better part of her allowance
for don't know how many more Gnortgaged
to Car and SibyD had gone h.to those boxes
and that pocket.
All this time, while she chatted on, trying
desperately to be cheerful, he had said little
or nothing. At last he took out his watch,
and looked at it, gathering strength.
81 must go now, )" he said.
Then in an instant, like frail hut swept
away by sudden hurricane, all her little
cheerfulnesS was gone. Her steadineSs, her
heroism was worth nothing at all, She cast
herself on his breast-he was to sustain her
now-crying, caressing him, ciinging to him,
as if she could not let him go.
"Percy," was all she said-"darling PercyP
And he said nothing. One thing his manli-
ness enabled him to do: he kept silence But
not a word could he utter.
"It is the sea between us, she said, sobblng.
"Such a distance of seal such length Of
timew
H only clasned har to his hreast-
"But | shall not forget you; you won't Tor
get me; promise it"
No sound came from his lips; but somehow
she understood by his clasp that, with an un-
uttered VOW, he was binding himself to her
forever
"Promise me again" she murmured
Still he did not make any audible reply.
"Promise me once more" she whispered;
and still without any speech, she was satisfied
that he replied.
There followed a moment Of silence, she
offering up a prayer for his safety; and in
what shrine SO fit could she offer it as there
on his manly breastl Then she felt his arms
gathering round her in an embrace stronger,
It seemed, than death. 1t was as if a giant
clasped her; she was like willow wand, and
his were arms of steel Could such an en-
brace ever be unloosedl Yes; in a moment
she was standing alone on the foo-, he was
passing out of the room, she cast herself help
lessly on the sofa,-and they were parted now.
All the time he had never spoken. But the
silence of his farewell was more to her than
any language could have been. He could not
speak for grief The intensity Of his VOW
was beyond all language, Sophia often looked
back with a sort Of sorrowful pride to that
silent farewell
n l.