The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1890-04-11

CHAPTER VII.
John Harmon was laid in drunkard's S
grave, and the tears which were shed were
more for the "might have been and for
the wasted life so suddenly brought to a
close than for sorrow that he had gone.
Indeed, brighter atmosphere was even
now pervading 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 kindest 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 which 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.
81 don't know as 1 can, child" replied
Mrs Harmon. ''This has come so sudden
like it seems as if I'd had no time for any
definite plans. shall go along in the same
old way probably, working hard and having
little" She had been unusually d ,sponden.
this evening, and life had hard, far-away
look to her.
"Are there any debts to pay" and Isa-
bells voice had a reassuring business ring.
Eyes, a few that l know Of l have strug.
gled hard to keep from debt, but 1 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. I'll leave it all with you,
child; some way l 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 drawer a bundle of pa
pers, unpaid bills, contracts for labor and
ther unlmportant papers, and lastly a long
official envelope, which she eagerly opened.
"Oh, auntie, come and see,' she cried, joy
fully; "Uncle John had a life insurance"
Are you sure, child!" Mrs. Harmon's S
voice trembled with eager hope. ''Can it be
possibles"
1t was possible; glib insurance man had
attacked John Harmon one day when he
was unusually pliable, and had worked upon
him until, partly from a sense of justice
and partly from a very natural desire to
be rid of the mans persistence, he had
taken out policy Of a 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 1t
and deposited the policy in the old desk
without IL word.
'Oh, Isabel, what a wonderful prov
idence," cried Mrs. Harmon, as she read
the paper and took in the welcome GER
tainty. Her apathy was all gone now, and
her eyes began to sparkle with the rays of
anew hope. "1his will pay every debt and
leave quite large sum besides. 1 can plan,
now that there seems to be something g to
plan with.'
ooh, my dear auntie, you have plenty to
plan WITH" said isabel, joyfullv Il have
the very best husband in the world, and
have come prepared TO repay you for q little
of the love and care you have given me
from infancy. All there is for you TO do Is
make up your nina wnaJ course you
wish to pursue, and the means shall not be
wanting"
Have you, then, married a man who is
able to allow you to do this?" said Mrs
Harmon, looking into Isabel's glad eyes
wi; h surprise.
Not only able, but willing, auntie," ano
she repeated her conversation with Mr.
Falconer before starting, and named tht
large sum he had given her.
''Isabcl, child, ought not to take it, in
decd l ought not,'' cried the widow witt
emotion; ''your generosity forces me to tc.
you secret, which l have never though
best to divulge until now"
"a secret!" said Isabel, surprised in her
turn.
Eyes, a secret ought not to take youl
money, dear child, for really you are not re
lated to me, and 1 have no claim on you for
such liberality."
Not related to you'll" echoed Isabel
'Auntie Harmon, what do you mean?"
''Just what l say, Isabel,' replied Mrs
Harmon. 81 have never told you the story
of your parentage, fearing it would make
YOU uneasy and dissatisfied with YOUR hum-