Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1886-09-02

terness Of woe-was not removed.
Her fathers death she could, in
the ordinary healing course Of nature,
have got over.
Loss of wealth, position, and summer
friends would, after time, have been
trifle to her.
But Elmer Westcourt's defectiOnl So
long as she lived, it would hurt her
with that keen, sick pain which some
women do suffer-woman with great
purity and trust of nature, who can no
more imagine deceit and cruelty in one
they love than themselves are capable
oft. Truly it was her darkest hour.
To her, Elmer Westcourt would
always be the one who alone had the
power to touch her heart. To her he
would always be the beloved, though
not the lover-the one above all Others,
although unworthy, strangely para
doxical as it were.
So Blanche tried her best and bravest
to enter into Mrs. Pemberton's spirits
of welcome for her son.
She beautified his room, that for
more than year had stood alone in its
unoccupancy. She baked delicious
cakes, and arranged toothsome bills of
fare, and went through the whole house,
leaving everywhere the impression of
her artistic touch, that delighted Mrs.
Pemberton 80 thoroughly.
"John will appreciate it so, bless his
dear heart! Blanch, I never wanted any
thing in all my life as l want my boy.
And do, do, Blancde, make him feel,
so far as you are concerned, that you
make him welcome; will you?"
Up in her room, hours after, Blanche
remembered particularly what dear
old Mrs. Pemberton had said about her
contributing her share towards welcom-
ing and pleasing the coming guest, and
as she stood before the glass, brushing
out the long, lustrous hair, that was
full of CLEANS of sunshine, she thought
how far past the time it was when she
could be pleasure or q pride to any
one.
She thought how worn out she had
grown to be, how aged and old-woman-
ish her fierce, ceasless fight with fate
had left her, and she smiled wearily at
the idea of her being even thought of
when John Pemberton came.
I think Blanch really thought it was
so-that she was worn and faded, when,
instead of her old-time radiant, spark
ling beauty, she was sweet, subdued,
serious loveliness, which others recog-
nized and admired if she did not.
She had never in all her flush of beau
ty, and wealth, and happiness, made q
fairer picture than she looked that day,
after she had dressed for Mrs. Pember-
toms sons homecoming.
She wore white, with delicate blue
ribbons, and her lovely hair was piled
high on her head in golden confusion
of fiossy puffS, and tendrily rings, and
glossy braids.
1t seemed strange to Blanche she
could not possibly take an interest
in the coming of this gentleman-she
who, not so very long ago, had so
thoroughly enjoyed a filtration.
She wondered why, in spite of her.
self, she was so listlessly indifferent,
and honestly tried to catch the infec-
tions of Mrs. Pemberton's excitement
ofjoy.
The old lady had put on her best
dress-a rich, rustling silk-to do hon.
or to her sons coming, and Blanche
thought, as she went into her parlor,
that she had never seen sweeter tab
leau of placid, aged beauty, and happy
old days, than Mrs. Pemberton offered,
in her lace cap and gray puffs, and pale
face lighted by such glad eyes.
"How your son ought to worship
such a mother!" she said with warm
ly graceful littleIimpulsiveness-a char
acteristic of other days, to which she
seldom gave way now. "Mr. Pember-
ton surely does"
Mrs. Pemberton jumped up from her
chair at the sound of carriage wheels at
the door.
"He has come! Oh, Blanche! But
whatever possessed you to think his
name was Pemberton?" Why, John
is my first husbands sonw
And Blanche slipped out of the back
door as the gentleman came in the front
oneSwent away upstairs again, leaving
mother and son to the sweet sacredness
of their glad meeting.
In all her life, Blanche had never felt
so lonely as in that half-hour she spent
upstairs, knowing how entirely forgot
ten she was. She was not selfish, either,
but it seemed as if all the trouble she
had ever known came surging its waves
Ofkeen remembrance over her.
She realized as she had never done
before how pitifully alone she was in
the world, and then into the midst of
the narrowing thoughts, the terrs
that had left her heart but had
not yet reached her sweet, sad eyes, in
to the midst of the desolation of her
young life, came Mrs. Pembertons voice
quick, glad, exultant, as she clled from
the foot of the stairs
blanche, Blanche, do come down!
Theresa mystery can't quite under
stand. Come herew
And Blanche, half smiling at the dear
Did lady's pardonable excitement, went
quietly, promptly, to be presented to
her son.
Mrs. Pemberton caught her by both
hands, to drag her perforce into the par
or.
"It beats all L ever did hear of! nev-
er was So"
Just then a tall, handsome gentleman
came through the parlor door, with
luick, eager steps, and Blanche looked
Ind saw Elmer Westcourt.
"Blanche Carroll my darling, whom
thought I had lost until a moment ago!
Blanche, my lovep
And the girl stood looking at him,
,lutching Mrs. Pemberton's hand in a
grasp that was as chill as death,
ler face pale as her dress, her eyes full
If mingled piteOus bewilderment, and