The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1892-05-11

become an Invalid. During all these
years she had kept up friendly interest
in Prof. Greichell, who had gone West di-
rectly after her graduation. One
evening Edith and her mother
were sitting in their coy parlor alone.
She had been reading the story of Enoch
Arden, but had dropped the book and
was gazing dreamily into the fire, when
her father came in.
"Well, father, what is it2" she asked.
81 know you have some news"
He sat down in his own comfortable
chair and drew long breath before he
answered
Il heard just now that Herbert Lester
has sent money from somewhere 10 pay
back every cent that he had taken. go he
is thief, yet not thief"
The blood mounted to EdIth's cheeks.
Father don't say that word again. /
think now more than ever that there IL
some mystery unexplained, but that he
willfully an coolly did a wrong act will
not believe"
THE proof was positive, my dear" he
said. 81 went to great trouble TO find out
and l know that he left the city with
money that vas not his"
"Oh, father, l am sure that you will find
that l am right some day and that some
one else was to blame; do they know
where he isl"
"No, the money was sent by a messen-
ger, who would not tell a word of him if
he knew note was sent which said he
wanted all the money repaid with inter
est, but that it would be useless to try to
find him, for he would leave the place
from where the messenger came within
an hour after the note was written"
"And now / have another bit of news
for you," he said, quickly. at is a letter
from Prof. Greichell. Ho is going East
and will stop with US for a few DAYS; he
will be here tomorrow or next day"
Edith's face flushed again and her moth
er looked at her and smiled. 1t was not
the first visit they had bad from him. 1t
was great pleasure to the Crandslls, shut
in as they were from the world, for he
was good talker and they liked him very
much.
Il believe he has something particular
to say, daughter, and J think it will please
mother as well as myself il you can listen
TO him."
ayes, my dear" Mrs. Crandall said,
her sweet voice tremulous, II would be
glad-that is-of course if you love him.
| do not want you to marry any one you
do not love"
81 would rather not marry at all, and
hope you do not want me to leave you,
mother dear :"
mo, would be lonely without you,
but you should not let me take all your
time. | am but a tiresome invalid at the
best"
There, we will say no more about it
until l complain of being tired of you,
sweet mother" Edith replied, as she arose
and went 10 the piano. She softly played
an old hymn, aud as she played her
thoughts were far away. Where was her
friend and sweetheart? Why had he
never written to her? Would the mys-
terry never be made clear? Thus her
thoughts ran on rs the shadows deepened
in the room and she sang one sweet song
after another. They would indeed be
lonely without her. She had proven her
self true Child, capable of taking care of
herself yet. When duty called her to her
mothers side her own work was given up
that she might minister unto that dearest
Of all relations
The next morning man came and
asked for Miss Crandsll. When Edith
came in be said:
81 come from your neighbor, Mr.. Tay-
lor. He is dying and keeps calling for
you all the time; so | came for you. and,
pardon me, / think you had best hurry"
he added as be started out.
II will go. certainly" she said, sur
prised. 81 did not know he was sick"
"He was taken suddenly last night
heart diseGse-and he cannot live through
the day, so we will go il you are ready"
As they went through the hall she
| threw a shawl over her shoulders fer the
morning air was cool. When she entered
the house she was taken at once to the
sick mans room. She was shocked at the
change in him and she knew it was true
that he had not long to live. Going TO
| the bedside she spoke 10 him. gently, for
| she remembered that Herbert had loved
him. He opened his eyes at the sound Of
her voice and gave sigh of relief
81 want-tO--tell you" he talked with
a great effort, and motioned for her 10
come closer; she did so and he continued.
az have a--letter-for you-it will-tell
YOU all. Herbert sent-it;" he looked at
her, his eyes full of entreaty. "Will you
| forgive mel thought would be-all
right-some time-but it-was-not."
"Yes, o yes" she faltered; "where is
| the letter."
Here" and he thrust his hand under
the pillow and brought forth two letters,
one old and yellow, the other evidently
written within the last few weeks. "You
| take-them-and read-after-" he paused
and Edith bowed her head as she slipped
the letters in her pocket
as that ALP"
Eyes"
Edith saw that the end was drawing
near and she fastened to call his wife, to
| whom she gave few words of comfort,
although her own heart was beating pain
fully. She wondered what vas in the
letters. IL they would tell her where Her.
bert was. After John Taylor was buried,
she opened them; the old yellow ono first
for had she not read ever so many directed
in the same dear hand?
1t was addressed TO her but bore no post
mark. thus showing IL had been inclosed
in another envelope. II was dated few
months after her last letter from him. A
mist gathered before her eyes and she
scarce could see tho words.
"My own darling, | write you for the
last time. My uncle will give you this and
he has promised 10 tell you why leave
YOU. You will forgive me, dear, and re.
member he was the only father i ever
knew. love you too well 10 ask you 10
share a stained name, and will see you
no more unless my name is cleared before
the world. So hold you to no promise
and / hope you will love some one else
more worthy OF you than I, but, dearest,
no ono will love you better; again, / will
say good-by. sweetest and best OF ali fair
women to your sorrowful friend,
-