The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1892-10-12

though exerted myself as far as possi.
BILE TO brighten her few remaining
days, she showed no appreciation OF 1t,
and at last died as she had lived, unfor
giving and unforgiven. For two days
before she died never went near her,
my presence having such a disturbing
effect on her that for hours afterward
she shook like one with chill. Hers
was O sad death, her life going out In
darkness and deep regrets, with no fond
memories to cheer her.
Itwas several days before could ap-
proach my Sister, she was so cold and
reticent. 1 learned from my father
that her married life had not been hap
py, and that after ten years of strife
she and Hanley had separated, he going
west to the mountains and she coming
back to her parents. The separation
was not final my father hoped, but
there was no telling how long it might
last, since Hanley had become extreme
ly uncertain in his habits and 1t was
evident that he had no love for his
wife.
learned that Mary was cross and ex.
acting with her husband, and that after
five or six years of married life he had
taken to drinking steadily, running
through with all his property, and
at last leaving her in a fit of disgust
So long as my father had money Mary
had called on him for help, and he had
given so freely that in time he seriously
embarrassed himself, and was, as last
resort, forced to place his home under
mortgage.
yearned to comfort my sister, but, re-
Wondering what she had said about
never wanting my love or sympathy,
was chary of approaching her. But at
last had an opportunity to speak, and
disregarding what the result might be,
availed myself of it, and opened my
heart to her as sister should, speaking
to her tenderly, soothingly and sympa-
thetically, but not as one having right
to advise. / avoided all semblance OF
condescension or superior virtue, and
talked as one erring creature might talk
10 another.
After awhile my words had effect
with her, and the flush Of resentment
that first marked her face faded out,
and tears followed. At last she became
30 far reconciled that she leaned her
head on my shoulder and allowed me to
place my arm about her.
agnes" she said, when we had
talked long time, 81 don't deserve
such kindness from you. said once,
you remember, that / never would
want your love or sympathy. i was
wicked and silly then, and little knew
what was before u.s."
I'VE all do and say things" l replied,
that we are sorry for afterwards; but
we should learn to forget them"
"You can afford to be generous and
forgiving, Agnes" she answered, "bo-
cause you are good. II is not so with
the. have been selfish and mean,
and when was prosperous l disdained
you. You ought to despise me and re-
Joico to see me brought down to what
am"
II would do myself no credit and add
nothing to my own happiness, Mary, II
/ exulted over you now. was poor
once and friendless, and know what il
Is TO be so; and for that reason can
sympathize. Let the past be buried,
Mary, and let us begin a new life as far
as our relations are concerned. II eth
er of us has done or said aught that was
wrong and injured the other, let it be
forgiven and forgotten"
II would TO Heaven, Agnes, that It
could be SO, but fear 1t cannot You
do not recall all / have said to you, how
/ misjudged you and impeached your
virtue. That, Agnes, was the cruelest
thing of all, because knew it was not
true
! had not till that moment recalled
what she had said of my virtue, and the |
remembrance of her words for an in |
slant checked my love and sent pang |
Of resentment to my breast. But lot |
it pass directly, and looking down into
her eyes said:
That was the crucleSt wrong you |
ever did me, Mary, but / forgive it.
Let 1t go with the rest of the past and
be forgotten. You regret it now. /
know"
II do, l do. regret It sincerely, and
l would give half my life to be hble TO
recall IT,"
Mary felt better after our conference,
and appeared much happier. She noed-
ed sympathy and love, for she had long
been denied them. ! promised that
Charles and / would do everything wo
could to reclaim Hanley and bring him
back to her, promise we kept with
such good result that In time he returned.
he and Mary settled down In
small town where Charles secured q po-
sition for VIII, and, though cannot say
they are happy, they are better con-
tented and more prosperous than they
had been before.
Soon after my stepmothers death
my father was compelled 10 give
up his home, the last Of all his poses
sionA he was adrift In the would, lust
rs ! had been years before when was
driven from the Same sheltsring roof,
but there was difference, for while no
heart beat In sympathy for me, ono
heart beat In sympathy for him.
opened my door and took him In, CIV
ng him a daughters love, and making
The few years remaining to him %
pleasant and comforting as l could.
Charles seconded my efforts, e1ortinR
himself TO his utmost TO cheer my aged
'ather and bring TO him what he could
If the feeling Of rest and welcome
And now there Is one more whom I
must not forpet-one who loved ma In