Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1888-03-22
ailing repentance that filed his sons

vailing repentance that filed his sons
breast.
one other spot he felt he must see
again before he left the old place fOrev-
er-his mothers grave. He walked back
quietly and went thI ough the small gate
way into the churchyard. To what was 10
him the most sacred spot of earth in
all the world. and. as ne knelt. strong
man as he was. he broke into sobs like
a little child.
\ woman came ont the church. and.
seeing the dark figure kneeling there.
stopped, her heart suddenly beginning TO
beat with hope: then she went quickly
across the grass and placed her hand
upon his bowed shoulders.
Dick. she said. .tremulously-"Dic
"Doral" he said, in a startled tone.
''Oh, Dick. how glad 1 am that you
have come home again. She put out
her hands and clasped his, tears of joy
sparkling in her dark eyes.
1T is not home to me nOw," he an
swered brokenlv.
Yes, Dick. Your home still always
your home! Have some pity on your
poor father, who is slowly breaking his
heart because of your long silence!
Come with me to him now"
He said was never to darken his
doors again"
''Oh, that was years ago, when, in the
fierceneSs of his anger, he said many
things he did not really meant He could
not keep angry with you long-he loved
You too well, and forgave You years ago.
Oh, come to him now. Dick!'
You know. Dora. have sinned, and
disgraced forever the honorable name
he bears. How can he-how can You
forgive me:'
dick. never did think badly Of you
I cared too much for You to believe
that You could do wrong"
But did do it, Dora; am thief
a forgerr'
She only frightened the clasp of her
hands on his and looked at him with
clear, trusting eyes.
1T was not done wilfully; know you
better, Dick"
He looked down at her sadly, at the
sweet, trusting face that bore traces of
sorrow, and yet had still the look of
faith that he remembered so well.
Il have only one excuse to offer, and
You may rightly think it quite as shame
full as the crime itself | had been going
the pace forgetting all good in life of
dissipation and evil: and when | altered
that check | was mad. / had drugged
myself with wine, and hardly knew un-
til it was too late the depth of shame to
which l had fallen"
Dora did not speak, but her eyes nev-
er left his face, and they were as tender,
as fOrgiving as at the first.
"You would not take my hand, Dora,
if You knew the life | have led since
then. l have sunk to the lowest depths;
| have not Shrunk from any evil, how
ever hideous: have tried to forget my
remorSe by living wild, reckless life"
"But. now, Dick, you will begin again
leave it all-all the sin-and come
back to us-come back to your father
who loves you, who has longed and
prayed for your return, and make me
happy again; for it will make me happy
to see You at home once more"
His face lost little of its sadness as
he listened to her soft, pleading voice.
Your father has almost given up
hope, Dick. He tried every way to find
out where you had gone, and when all
means failed he lost hope, and thought
you must be dead"
BETTER for it Ii | were dead" he said
sadly.
"No, Dick; don't say so; 1t is cruel,
for II have never given up hoping. |
knew you would come back some day;
and tonight, when l saw some one by
your mothers grave, | knew in a mo-
ment it was you, come home to make us
happy again
Il am coward, Dora, for l am afraid
to meet my father. l cannot forget that
l have brought disgrace upon him
upon the name of EImore."
"But you will Gomez" she pleaded.
"Yes, l will come" he answered.
So they walked back together, and as
they went Dick told her how he had
been earning his living, and also told
her about his "legacy"-the little child
who had saved him from ali evil life.
DOra's eyes filled with tears more than
once as she listened, and, when she
heard of the death of the poor circus
rider, she vowed in her true, wOmanly
heart that So long as she herself lived
Fairy should never know the need of a
mothers love and care.
They entered the hail together, then
she went alone into her uncle's room to
prepare him for the good news.
How she told him she never afterward
could remember, but in very few mo-
mentS she came back to Dick.
$50 to him." she whispered; and with
trembling hands she pushed him into
the room and closed the door.
X
\ few days later Dick went home to
the Grange for good, taking Fairy with
him. His father would hardly let him
go out Of his sight, so Dora had plenty
of time and opportunity to win Fairy'S
love; and it was not hard work, for from
the first Fairy had taken to Dora's sweet
face; while Fairy herself, with her bonny,
childish ways and merry rippling laugh,
was like gleam of sunshine III the old
house, and soon won the hearts of all
even Mr.. Elmore. She was little shy
at first of the grave-Iooking old man;
but, after she had got over her shvness
her greatest delight was to wander about
the grounds Glinging to his hand or to
sit perched on his knee while she chatted
TO her hearts content,
Mr.. ElmOre had great deal to tell
his son, but his favorite theme was al
ways Dnra-her sweetness to him when
he was overwhelmed with sorrow, and
her steadfast faith in Dicks goodness
and truth, which had been one of his
greatest comforts.
"She has been like a daughter to me
for these many, many long years." he
said.
"If l only had the courage I would
ask her to be your daughter in reality"
put in Dick, in low tone.
"My boy, it would make me happy if