The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1890-03-14


great heart, she burst into tears.
Never mind, Peggy" Miriam said in
tender, soothing tone, putting her hand
lovingly on the gray hairs of the bowed
head. 1--WE all know just how II Is, except
baby" she continued in low, confidential
tone, in order that Sir Rupert, who stiIi
stood looking at them, might not hear
''Yes, yes, we all know, and trust there Is
no one hurt very much by this show OF hos
tllity on Sir Rupert's part Peggy you are
grIeved, but l should not shed a tear II i
were in your place. II Is not worth the
while, as by so doing you can not remedy
the matter. See! ] am calm enough, Peg
gy; take pattern from my fearless face"
Clarkson raised her fearful face and
searched the eyes Of her long-lost mistress
bent kindly on her.
What did she see in those clear, dark
depthsi Beyond the haunting sorrow of
her great bereavement there smoldered the
old, proud, willful unrelenting spirit Yes,
II always had been, always would be in
spite of death, sorrow and the grave shaft
for shaft with father and daughter. Sword
to sword when q Percival aroused the evil
10 one Of their own blood had been say
Ing, and Peggy remembered il plainly now.
The vengeful fire in the eyes Of Miriam
confirmed the truth of the adage, and prom
ised balefully that the breach existing
could never be healed. Truly the woman
was not much changed from the proud, re-
belllous child in its nurses arms.
Miriam read the innermost thoughts of
poor, imple-hearted Peggy In that momSn-
eary upward gaze.
"You are startled, taken aback, Clarkson,
by my heartless coolness after my long ao-
sence; but think a moment, Peggy: what
| have lost here, beside my sainted motneri
| have not misused any paternal confidence
nor crushed any fatherly affection, having
never been the recipient OF that much to
be-desired blessing Surely l have lost
nothing and snn none the less miserable ter
my independence to-day.
s'I have forfeited my right TO Heather leigh,
| it is trre but with me that is MINOR mat
| ter.
''If father will not receive US, baby and /,
because Of the name we bear why all recon
ciliatioI is at end at once, as 1 shan not
| beg forgiveness for imaginary sins xnd 10
/ please Sir Rupert's love OF authority.
! Nevers''
Theshapely hand covered with ITS black
! glove clenched itself in defiance, and the
| hot blood of vexation and inhereI5 dislike
| surged up TO the smooth white as-ow and
| burned in roses either cheek. "A silence
| as OF the grave fell oEer them as.sne ceased
I speaking, for the h9Hsekeeper could find
! no words for reply Ia the face sf such an
1 in1pz-Ssioned outburss, because.od its truth
The irate father still stood silently re-
I garE,ng his children while leaning on the
/ column for aid. NG= muscle of his face
I moved, but he was thinking, nevertheless
! AsDeet, pleading face of one long since
deaf seemed 30 scsEne before him and pc
I titicI in its old, tender way ioz- reconcilia,
! tiou=and atoninE lore. And = strange mist
| o0srured hIs vision, somehow the womanly
| daughter out there, by her presence, drew
| his sEul toward her in spite of al he could
| do oh! God, that this chasm of bitterness
| existed between them. If she, his daugh
| ter Miriam, would snly call across the wears
| 10 vim aQain
thatEearning way why, he could not re-
| pulse her again; the spirit would be
crustsd, and peace would Ikrood white
winged over Heatherlegh.
| But Miriam did not call.
81 must be going now" she said. 81 had
promised myselfa somewhat different greet
ing from Heatnerleigh's shadowy doors.
why, Hardly know but never mind, that is
all over now. fear, however. this days
doings will sit mach harder on father
than it Sin on me. Goodbye, Peggy; good
bye, Ancil. James, and all; an aEectionate
goodbye
She fnished 10 -sef1ened, subdred tone
as she gave her hand 10 each in parting
"She is a Percival 10 the very oenter of
] her proud soul {" lnu-mured Johs to his
fellows, almost gladly Somehow he felt
\ happy to find that Sir Rupert could be
/ withstood and ignored IN his commands of
submission, and that. too. by one of his own
house.
Miriam took her little son in her arms,
and called across the intervening space in
= clear, unhesitating tone: Goodbye,
isther-a long good-byets
Little Arthur, folloEih g his mothers ex-
ample, stretched out his little arms toward
rhe frail, tottering form in the doorway
and piped in clear, bird-lize tones: ''Dood-
bye 10 100, dood- bye; lon dood-oyer'
| When his children's voices foated melo-
di0ussy TO him in these sweet set sad. sad
| won6s- Sir Rupert made no reply But
| what kss thoughts were, who could say,
Silent and wordless he stood, gazing
| after the retreating forms of his hapless
children: his beautiful, bereaved daughter
and the innocent little grandchild, with its
long, bright curls flying in the sweet spring
wind. WO,id he ever see them againl He
did not knopr. Obi yes, he felt that he did
know; he was certain that he never would
| And
Peggy broke In on his sorrowful reyerie
by throwing herself at his feet and wall
ing: ''Ohi masthur, masthur, call her
back. Obi masthur. do, Oi begP'
She had rushed forward and knelt at his
side on the steps, forgetful of the angry
demonstrations she had just witnessed
She was only thinking that she must lose,
forever, perhaps, her beloved Miriam.
And, in her despair, she feared nothing Of
word or deed from Sir Rupert
But instead Of replying with a torrent of
lnVectlves showered on her devoted head,
a, all the dumbfounded servants expected,
Sir Rupert turned away from the kneelins 2
housekeeper with gesture Of weariness,
vouchsafing not word in response to he
appeal A moment Of hesitancy, and h'
went in, shutting the door softly after him
then, slowly and painfully, he went sadl,
up to his rooms and their solitude. Their,
was strange mistiness about the stair
ways and deeper shadow in the cor
ridors as he passed TO his apartments
The very shades of death seemed to gathe
around him as he turned the door-handl
and went in.