Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-07-25
WATERBURY EVENING DEMOCRAT. THURSDAY JULY D. 1889

dowment not alone of your goods, but of the unvarying kindness you are ever show ing me, when recognize the fact that can not meet it with love which wife should give; the sweet love which makes it easy for her to ask and receive her husbands gifts.''
 My dear Isabel" he replied, gravely, II do not wish to hasten you in the least, but will confess that it will be happy hour when you can say, truthfuily and from your heart: I love you;' but do not, beg, refuse mo the pleasure of doing for you and of loving you in the meantime. l assure you it is a privilege"
 ''Do for mo and with me as you will, ;" she cried, with deep emotion, ''only do not regret taking me to your home. It would break my heart had reason to fear that you repented our marriage. am so happy here," and she looked down on the sweet face of the child, and the bright tears ran down her cheeks and dropped on the fair, unconscious head.
 Have no fears, Isabel" he replied, "your love for the child would alone make that an impossibility. You brighten and make my home a happy one also; so dry your tears, dear wife, and all will yet be as we would have it.'' How little one can tell what day may
 
 written, for just as Isabel had seated her self at the desk, Mir. FaIconer came in with telegram from her aunt, announcing the death of John Harmon, and asking her to come at once
 ''Poor auntie," she said, with @ sigh, ''though 1t Is really blessing, yet it will be | such shock to her, for she loved him, and was always hoping against hope that he would yet reform.''
 1NN ryfch %o would you prefer going alone7' he said, as he smoothed her hair with sympathetic hand.
 "I think had better go alone," she said, slowly, after moments thought; Git might distress auntie to have a stranger see her.in her sorrowful, straitened circun- stances"
 ''True, your munitions are finer than mine !; but dread to have you take the journey | alone.'
 "Do not fear for me-" she replied, quietly. I am accustomed to travelling alone, and shall do nicely"
 ''You will stop in New York and bring Miss Ford homo with yous" he said, inter- | negatively.
 ''Yes, think so," sho replied, looking up l at him with @ pleased smile; ''how readily you plan for me-"
 "If you find her badly off, had better | meet you in New York, in order to assist | her," he suggested.
 'Thank y0u;1 will telegraph to you in l time should need your assistance" There was barely time to pack the trunk before the carriage would be at the door | to carry her to the station, and she had lit- tie time to think of any thing but the details of tho unexpected journey. MT. Falconer took roll of bills from his bill-boolk. 'Isabel," he said, 'I wish you to go amply provided to do whatever is needed for your aunt, you can help her mop to advantage. Please feel no restrictions whatever, and if there is not enough ask for moro, and leave her comfortable"
 l 'Mr. Falconer" she said, in trembling volce.
 l II do not wish any one who has loved and befriended you to sufferneed, when we have such abundance. l should he ashamed of myself could allow it." Ho spoke kindly and firmly.
 l clean not tell you how gratifying it will be to me to be able to relieve the distress expectto fnd," she said, as she put the bills away,
 As the train whizzed along her mind took @ retrospective turn. Only three short months ago, and she had passed over this road bride, in such maze of strangeness that she hardly realized that it was herself Her book of experiences had been unfold l ing ever since, and what delightful one il was, so widely different from any thing she had ever dreamed of, and she thought o1 her husband with 0 warm thrill at he, heart "The kindest and most unselfis h O. men," she murmnred, "and Oracle, sweet ohlld3"
 She was thoroughly rested now. Mint and body had been treated to Such an en tire change that she was once more buoyan with life and energy, and tho peevishness produced by the long routine of work ant mental aggravation, which had so worl upon her nervous system, had passet away, and she was going to her aunt in he need with every faculty on the alert, ant with her tenderness aroused toward thu friend who had been all the mother she had ever known.
 A lady sat before her, holding a little gir in her arms; the child was peevish. ''G' to sleep, dear," said the lady, kindly. "La, your head on my shoulder and take nap.'
 "Oh, auntie, can'tr' The child was a most sobbing with excitement and wear ness, for they had come long journey.
 '"Auntier The word, SO familiar, struc a vibrating chord In Isabel's heart, and re minded her of the loving care her aunt hat given her in the old days, before povert and sorrow had come to wiring her heart an chill her affections.
 One time of sickness she remembered i particular, when Mrs. Harmon had nurse her night and day for weary weeks, an tears of joy rose to her eyes as she remen bered that she had it in her power to rt pay, in some measure, her debt of grat tude.
 Meanwhile Mrs. Harmon was sitting i her poor home in maze of sorrowf, trouble; John Harmon had been unusual dissipated for the last six months, and he poor heart had sank away down, out
 sight of hope or courage, and she ha prayed wildly that soaaett3rH might come change the miserable routine.
 Something had come; he was a carpel ter, and in ascending ladder in state lintoxlcation his foot Slitinad. and falling. h