News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1892-01-14
Seth Gralam'S Pride.
BY AGNES BREWER.

The little New England village nest
ling in the heart of the hills seemed
shut out from all the world on one
cold night in January, as silently and
swiftly the white, feathery flakes fell
one by one, wrapping it in a shroud
of purest white. Already the snow
lay thick upon the ground, and the
people shook their heads, as they list
ened to the wind, and gathered closer
round their cheerful fires, with glance
perhaps, toward the trundle-beds
where rosy cheeks and young limbs
were safely housed and quietly sleep
ing.
In Seth Graham S cottage, the scene
was a different one. Here all was in
order. No toys were scattered upon
the floor for the careful housewife to
gather up with loving touch; no chid's
breathing broke the stiffness. Seth
Graham and his wife sat alone. The
fire burned brightly on the hearth,
the shutters closed tight against the
storm, but on the faces of both was u
worn and anxious look
Il wonder where she is to-night?"
at last burst from the mothers lips,
as though uncOnsciously. For the
first time in twelve long months she
again approached the forbidden sub
ject. o Father" she continued,
should she come back tonight would
you forgive herr"
For a moment tremulOus lines soft
ened the old mans mouth, a tear
trembled in his eye, then the same
severe expression came back sterner
than before, rs he answered:
Have you forgotten your promise
never to breathe that name? For
give her? No! Not though she lay
dying at my feet Let her not come
here for aid or comfort; she, who has
brought disgrace and dishonOr upon
our name
Perhaps not" the mother replied,
in pitying tones. "Perhaps-" but
her sentence was unfinished, for q
waiing cry without the cottage door
caused both to start from their seats,
and gaze at each other as though
they had conjured up a ghost. In a,
moment it came again fainter. near
er. The wife elooked into the husbands
fathers heart conquered.
"Itis she-our Alicel" he exclaimed.
woman, have you no soul, that you
can stand there and see her perish?
Quick-a light"
And throwing open the door, he
went hurriedly out into the night, re-
turning in a few moments, bearing in
his arms the PROSTATE woman, who
had fallen almost at his very door
With tender care he laid her upon his
bed; but the blue eyes which opened
to the light had in them no gleam of
consciousness, and the long hair that
swept the pillow was wet with snow.
On his knees beside her knelt the man,
who, a few moments before, had
spurred her in his thought, calling
her by the pet names OF her baby
hood, imploring just one word in an
swer. But no answer came. Once
look of recognition swept over the
beautiful face. once, as the dawn was
breaking, she stretched out her arms
to her mother, whispering:
''It was not as you thought. II
loved him so that"
But the last sentence died away I'M
finished; and when, at last, the morn
ing sun dispelled the last nights
storm, it shone upon the calm, quiet
sleep of one forever at rest. Alice had
given her life for another, and the
baby sleeping at her side would dnever
know a mothers love.
Reverently the neighbOrs followed
the dead to its last restiug-place, ask
ing no questions, but with sorrow
sincere and earnest. In all the vii
lage, none had been so great a favor
ite as the girl who now lay in her cof-
fin; and when, but little more than
year ago, she had disappeared from
among them, at the same time with
the young and handsome stranger
who had been spending his summer
amid the hills, they spoke pityingly
rather than with censure.
But with the springtime the wild
flowers grew in rich luXuriance over
| Alice Graham's grave; and in Seth
| Graham's cottage once more childish
| laughter broke the silence; a child's
cry demanded food and rest.
| OWllulD Ilt y DGCtIS IOlltu Oll Ill lIblI
appointed courses. Seed-time and
harvest followed each other rapidly.
Seventeen summers passed. The life
which had opened in storm and dark,
seemed to have left them at its very
portal, and to have lived since in eter-
nal sunshine. The man who had
proved so stern a father had, to the
girl, been only kind and gentle, and
to granny" as she called the sweet
old lady whose face bore traces of
such grief as few have known. She
knew she had but to frame wish to
have it granted. And now she felt
her young life was crowned indeed
with JOY, for in the twilight in the
early summer time Will Howard had
confessed his love, and won from her
her answer and her secret.
"You will see grandfather? she
questioned, her voice tremulOus with
happiness.
Eyes, dear" he had replied. "But
| univ sboII1d no not or vn his rCnoont .