Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1891-06-17
Ill

Mrs. Lloyd brushed her husbands 5
coat and hat the next morning even
more carefully than usual, with view
to his visit to the lawyer.
8" If it had come sooner |" she
thought, as she watched the bent, be-
loved figure down the street.
Then she went back to her household
duties.
The burden of those long years was
not to be shaken off in an hour. She
had stiffened, perhaps, into habit of
sorrow and poverty; it is certain that
she labored faithfully throughout the
day at her sordid cares, scarcely able
to realize the strange fortune which
bad befallen them.
But not so the children. For them
the good news was a reality. They
drew together, building their castles III
the air, which, unlike such erections
generally, had foundations of solid
gold, and even in their unsubstantial
upper stories were fitted up with sa-
gacity characteristic of the early wise
children of the poor.
Eddy, from his sofa, spoke wistfully
Of marvellous cures, of health-giving
breezes, of great doctors whose SER
-,
moved about the house with new life,
speaking little, but dreaming, dream
ing, dreaming through the summer
| hours.
The wonderful day sped to its close.
Once more the family gathered round
the tea table, the tired father taking his
seat at the head.
"Did you go to that lawyer, father
A nice fellow he must be, I should
sayl" cried Eddy, who was a privi-
legged person.
"And father, did you tell them al
| the office that you are not going back
any more?" added Eleanor, with a new
gladness in her voice, new light in
her eyes, which today, at least, were
the eyes of a pretty girl.
"Your father is tired" said the
| mother, seeing that her husband neither
moved nor spoke, but sat with his ell
bow on the table, shading his face with
his hand.
"No, no." he said, quickly, "I am
not tired"
Then, lifting his head suddenly, he
spoke out with curious harshness:
"Wife, children, you must put to-
day and yesterday out of your heads
1t has all been mistake"
Half-imploring, half-defiant, he
swept the dismayed circle of faces with
his glance; then, dropping his eyes,
went on:
"The money was never ours, never
could be ours. 1t was the fruit OF
cruelty and extortion; it was wrung
from the starving poor. Ii Is money
that no honest man can touch"
He covered his face with his hand:
and there was silence in the room.
Then, all at once, the youngest OF
the children broke into loud crying,
and Eleanor, with flaming cheeks and
blazing eyes, sprang to her feet.
81 knew it'll" she cried, and the an
GER and sorrow of her voice were sad
TO hear. 81 knew it cou'd not be
true that we were going to be happy
II is a shame, shame, but knew it !!
| And she went from the room.
Her father followed her into the
narrow passage, shutting the door be-
hind them.
She stood silent, motionless, with
her forehead pressed to the wall.
He stretched out tired, trembling
hand, and laid it on her shoulder.
| "My dear''-the harsh note OF pam
had faded from his voice; 1t was only
very wistful and weary-"'My dear,
am very sorry. But you would no'
wish it otherwise, know"
He was a man of few words-sim-
pie, timid, little given to demonstra
tions of affection.
"You do not wish it otberwiseF' III
said again.
No answer; but he felt the shoulder
shaking with sobs beneath his touch
In the poor girls simple heart sh'
held her fathers decision as absolutely
without alternative as he had don'
himself. Her anger was impersonal
directed against fate, and at the pa
thetic sound of her fathers voice sii
had melted into tears.