Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1892-09-01

those who cruelty treated me, Tor IN the
full measure Of my happiness ] hold no
enmity against any, but rather extend
10 all a free and full forgiveness. !
have no desire 10 exult over anyone's
downfall, and trust that In finishing
these pages ! may speak with moder-
alton becoming one who tries 10 lead
Christian life.
Mr.. bernard, as have said, spent
money lavishly In his contest for cleo
ton 20 congress- and the result was n
financial embarrassment from which he
was unable 10 recover. After u year Of
hard struggling he was compelled 10
give up and pass into bankruptcy. Mrs.
Bernard refused 10 adapt herself 10 his
altered circumstances, and after long
suit and much elimination and recrim-
nation. they separated. Bernard went
west where he began n life of debauch-
cry which In time led 10 his incarcera-
ton In an asylum for incbriates, and
where after long time he died, a mis-
cradle, lonely, fricndlcss wreck with
not an eye 10 shed tear Of regret,
and not tongue TO speak n word Of
love or pity
Ten years after my marriage my IA
thcr wrote letter urging mo 10 come
home II was so full Of the spirit Of
contrition and so pitifully pleading In
It's tone that was not proof against its
requests. lie stated that my step
mother was very sicl, and not likely 10
live long, and that Mary had come
houh hcnrtbrolten woman, and that
they were all In great trouble and need
ed some one 10 comfort them In their
sorrow.
went. Charles urged inc 20 go, and
did not hesitate. put aside all Of the
past. dismissed every recollection Of my
stcpmothcr's cruelty and my fathers
GOODNESS, aud with no feeling In my heart
save wish to console them went forth on
II mission Of mercy and charity happy In
the thought that could do good to
those who had done 10 much 10 darken
my life.
Arriving NJ my fathers house ! was
shocked and Rrievcd 10y the sight that
met my eyes. My father was 40 changed
since that morning when ! stood on n
distant hill and looked back 10 my old
home and saw him for the last time.
Then he was proud, erect and strong,
while now | saw him bent with ngc and
trouble. his head whitcncd and his face
furrowcd. My stcpmothcr, too, was so
sadly altered Instead Of the proud, de-
fiant woman she was when she drove
p,c from my fathers house I found her
n sunlScn, wasted skeleton, weak almost
unto death And Mary, my once
naughty sister, what n change there had
been In hcrl IL needed no words 10 tell
me that she had suffered bitterly and
that her hopes and her life were blasted
saw all that plainly written In
her aged countenancc, her deep
suntcn eyes and her bowed form.
She had drunk from the cup Of disap-
pointmcnt and had drained it TO the
drcgs.
My father met me nj the cato when !
nlightcd from the carriage, aud coming
forward, held out his hand. lie was
trembling like leaf, and the tears
stood in his eyes. lie held my hand an
instant, his lips moved as " In speech
then turning away he threw himself
down on the stile and burst into tears
The scene was too touching for my feel
ings, and |, too, wcpt true tears Of sor-
row and grief II had harborcd any
thought or feeling against my father, |
should have forgiven him then.
Several minutes passed In silence,
after which my father lifted his face to
mine, the tears still rolling down his
checks, and, taking my hand again, said,
oh so sadly:
My child, may God forgive me for
what You have suffered, for you never
can"
Father" ! said, drawing nearer TO
him, 81 have nothing to forgive. have
no ill-fcelings for anyone"
God bless you, my child" he said,
softly, laying his hand ON my head.
God bless You for what you say, and
for coming to MS in this dark hour"
lie. pauscd an instant TO master the
rising tears, then went on:
My child, you do not know what
have suffered, nor how sad and lonely
have been these long years My life
has been sorrowful one, and often
and often | have lougcd for some one TO
love me rs your mother did, and as you
would had let you. Agnes, have
been punished bitterly-more bitterly
than can tell"
There, father" replied, laying my
hand on his arm, "do not say any more
now. IL distrcsscs me 10 hear you talk
SO. ] have come TO you, and II can
cheer or comfort you, even n very little,
shall be happy"
went In TO sec my stepmother, but
she refused to speak TO mo and turned
her face away. believe II was not re-
sentiment but shame that actuated her,
and ! waS confirmed in that opinion
when at last she Said TO me;
"Why do you come hero TO rejoice
at my misfortune and 10 laugh AT
my troublc2 Is IL not enough thai
| should he brought down 10 this, with
out having you come here 10 see it2'
81 have not come to rejoice or laugh
at your trouble answered. 81 sym
pathi2e with you from the bottom OF
my heart, and II cnn do anything u
comfort yop ! will do II freely"
think that speech hurt her NOR,
than any rcpronch I could have uttered
for she turned to the wall, and COVERING
her face moaned pitifully. | believe
though. that II was her pride rathe
than her heart that was touched. a
Inundated her 20 receive the sympathy
! and pity of the poor worm she had so Of
ten spurned, and as she contrasted GU
altered circumstances her cold, prou'
spirit broke
| tried long aud faithfully to effect
: reconciliation between us, but my Of
forts were all In vain. She wanted ~
forgiveness and no love from me, and
though eXerted myself as far as posi-
bic TO brighten her few remaining