Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-07-25
CHAPTER VII.

John Harmon was laid in 8 drunkard's grave, and the tears which were shed were moro for tho "might have been '' and for tho wasted life so suddenly brought to close than for sorrow that he had gone. Indeed, Q brighter atmosphere was even now prevailing the house, as the fact be- came more tangible that no more blows or curses were to be dealt out there, and the children began to look brighter, and lose their coWed, scared look, and all planned and looked forward to the future, as if a great black cloud had rolled off their hori- zon, as indeed there had. Alas! that any man should so conduct himself that the best and Eindest thing he can do for his family is to die and free them from his presence.
 The children had gone to bed, and Isabel and her aunt were alone in the shabby little room winch was dignifed by the name of parlor. "Now, auntie, tell me all your plans," she said, taking the wrinkled, hard working hand of her aunt in hers. Il don't know as l can, child," replied Mrs. Harmon. '"This has come so sudden like it seems as if I'd had no time for any definite plans. I shall go along in the same old way probably, working hard and having httle." She had been unusually Respondent this evening, and life had a hard, far-away look to her.
 "Are there any debts to pay" and Isa- bells voice had a reassuring business ring. "Yes, few that know of. have strug- gled hard to keep from debt, but could not succeed" and she sighed heavily. "Didn't Uncle John have any business papers. Perhaps there are recelpted bills or unsettled accounts in the old secretary Hadn't we better look?"
 "Perhaps so. 1ll leave it all with you child; some way I have neither heart or courage to do any thing to night,' said the | widow, wearily,
 Isabel rose and, going to the old desk, drew out from a drawer q bundle of pa pers, unpaid bills, contracts for labor and other unlmportant papers, and lastly long | official envelope, which she eagerly opened. "Oh, auntie, come and see," she cried, joy 1 fully; ''Uncls John had life insurance.n Are you sure, childH' Mrs. Harmon's s | voice trembled with eager hope. ''Can 1t be possibles'
 It was possible; a glib insurance man had l attacked John Harmon one day when he | was unusually pliable, and had worked upon 1 him until, partly from sense of justice 1 and partly from Q very natural desire to l be rid of the mans persistence, he had l taken out a policy of thousad dollars "a little fortune in this time of need. | He had felt ashamed of the unpremed- itated provision as soon as he had made it, and deposited tho policy in the old desk l without a word.
 1 ''Oh, Isabel, what wonderful prov 1 idence," cried Mrs. Harmon, as she read l tho paper and took in the welcome cer- tainty. Her apathy was all gone now, and | her eyes began to sparkle with tho rays of | a new hope "This will pay every debt and leave quite large sum besides. l can plan, | now that there seems to bo something 2 to | plan with" "Oh, my dear auntie, you have plenty to plan with" said Isabel, joyfully. ''I have | the very best husband in the world, and 1 have come prepared to repay you for a little of the love and care you have given me | from infancy. All there is for you to do IS to make up your mind what course you | wish to pursue, and the means shall not be l wanting"
 'Havo you, then, married 8 man who is
 able to allow you to do this2' said Mrs.
 Harmon, looking into lsabol's glad eyes with surprise.
 ''Not only able, but willing, auntie,n and
 she repeated her conversation with MT.
 Falconer before starting, and named the
 large sum he had given her.
 "Isabel, child, I ought not to take it, in, | deed 1 ought not" cried the widow with
 emotion; "your generosity forces me to tell
 you 0 secret, which have never though,
 best to divulge until now'
 IA seccets" said Isabel, surprised in her
 turn.
 "Yes, 8 secret. ought not to take youl
 money, dear child, for really you are not re
 lated to me, and I have no claim on you fol
 such liberality.'
 ''Not related to you!' echoed Isabel
 "Auntie Harmon, what do you mean?"
 "Just what say, Isabel" replied Hrs
 Harmon. 'I have never told you the story
 of your percentage, fearing it would mak.
 you uneasy and dissatisfied with your hum