Rocky Ford enterprise., 1893-11-23

10, whom nobody could look at with
out thinking of rosebud almost
blossoming. Tho only other person ut
the freside was Robert Moore, formerly
an apprentice of the blacksmith, but
now his iourneymen, and who seemed
more like an own son of John lngle-
field than did the pale and slender
student.
Only these four had kept New Eng
lands festival beneath that roof. The
vacant chair at John Ingleaeld's right
hand was in memory of his wife,
whom death had snatched from him
since the previous Thanksgiving.
With feeling that few would have
looked for in his rough nature the be-
reaved husband had himself set the
chair in its place next his own, and
as If he deemed it possible that the
cold grave might send back its tenant
to the cheerful fireside, Mt least for
that one evening. Thus did he cherish
the grief that was dear to him. Bat
there was another grief which he
would fain have torn from his heart;
or, since that could never be, have
buried it too deep for others to behold
or for his own remembrance. Within
the past year another member OF his
househo had gone from him, but not
81 v
chair for her.
While John Inglefield and his family
were sitting around the hearth, with
the shadows dancing behind them on
the wall, the outer door was opened
and light footstep came along the
passage. The latch Of The inner door
was lifted by some familiar hand, and
q young girl came in, wearing cloak
and hood, VIII ch she took off and laid
Al
glass. Then after gazing moment
at the fireside circle, she approached
and took the seat at John Inglefield's
right hand, as II it had becn reserved
on purpose for her.
"Here 1 am at last, father" said
she. "You ate your Thanksgiving
dinner without me, but 1 have come
back to spend the evening with you."
Yes, it was Prudence Inglefeld. She
wore the same neat and maiden1y at
tirc which she had been accustomed to
over for the day, and her hair was
parted from her brow in the simple
and modest fashion that became her
best of all. If her cheek might other
wise have been pale, yet the glow OF
the fire suffused it with healthful
bloom. II she had spent the many
months of her absence IN guilt and
1nfamy, yet they seemed to nave lett
no traces on her gentle aspect. She
could not have looked less altered had
she merely stepped away from her
fathers treside for half an hour and
returned while the blaze was quiver-
ing upward from the same brands
that were burning at her departure.
And to John Inglefeld she was the
very image of his buried wife, such as
he remembered her on the first
Thanksgiving which they had passed
under their own roof Therefore,
though naturally stern and rugged
man, he could not speak unkind1y to
his sinful child, nor yet could he take
her to his bosom.
'You are welcome home, Prudence"
said he, glancing sideways at her, and
his voice faltercd. 'tYour mother
would have reioiccd to see you. but
she has been gone from us these four
months"
"I know IT. father, know it." re-
piled Prudence, quickly. And yet,
when first came in, my eyes were so
dazed by the freight that she seemed
to be sitting in this very chair"
By this time the other members of
the family had begun to recover from
their surprise and became sensible
that it was no ghost from the grave
nor vision of their vivid rccollections,
but Prudence her own self. Her
brother was the next that greeted