The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1896-11-26

f NNO "'iCn IN NtStNA hOAilt was
ready for her she went to it, empty OF hand.
but very full of heart.
Ezra had at that time been dead only
a couple of months, so in both homes the
winter which followed was dreary and sor-
rowful enough.
The Eastmans. beside sorely missing the
patient. CHEEKY. unworldly father. were in
painfully Straitened circumstances, and
the prosperity which was the normal condi-
ton OF the TOWnley household held but
little real cheer and comfort when Emmy's
presence was withdrawn. From David him.
self and the maiden sister who had been
his housekeeper ever since the death OF
his wife. down to the man servant and the
maid servant, and even the occasional
stranger within their gates. IL seemed as
If without her the very sunlight was dark
ened.
Still people can manage TO live, even
without the sunlight. and thus. with but
little outward change, one year uraSSed
along after another until Emmy had beer:
ten years gone. In all this time she had
never written to her father and never re-
peated the one letter TO her aunt which had
been returned unopened, but early In the
autumn of that tenth year she wrote TO her
mother-in-law, announcing her intention OF
making a first visit. A forced visit IL was,
and the announcement was spattered Win
anxious tears.
"One nights fire." she wrote, has de-
stroyed the labor of ten long years. No;
only our house and everything in 1t Is
burned, but John'ss shop. too. He has TO be-
/ hate tc leave him at such u time. but
the doctor says our little Wilbur Will nave
to go East or he won't answer Tor Ihe
consequences. He was just getting over a
slow fever. but the fire seems to nave put
him back"
So it was that Emmy Eastman came back
to the home of her childhood, quietly anC
sadly, with no melodramatic flourish and
not a particle of expectation that her return
meant anything to the father whom she
He's changed a lot since he mad the
grip so bad last spring" her mothSrIin-
OV-er tho fro tho NIGHT of the return.
never see any one more pulled down, but
I dare say 'twont change his feeiin's any:
David was always more set in his ways
than any one / ever knew
Yes" Emmy agreed, Il never knew any
one more so, and it would take a miracle
to change him, / think. 'TwOuldn't be any
sort of use for me to try to come rouno
him."
She was so convinced Of this that she
did not give any such effort a thought. but
alas, we know so little. after all, of those
whom we think we know best! We give
them credit for weakness at the point
wherein lies their greatest strength, or
consider them unnaturally strong at the
very time when their will. their convfc-
tions. or their prejudices, 1t may be- are
most nearly approaching dissolution.
His first experience of a dangerous Ill
ness had done for David Townley what
Ezra's sickness, suffering and death could
not accomplish. 1t had undermined the
strong foundations of his own sufficiency
and made him for the first time a little
doubtful of himself. A formless something
WHO III dllOlUtT HldIl I1lkHl uC III Z
morse took possession of him. and he be-
gan to think it possible that after all Ezra
had not meant 10 defraud or insult him
began to wish that when the money was
finally paid back he had expressed himself
satisfied, and thus averted those long
years of separation from his only child.
1t was a selfish kind of remorse, l grant
you, and il was not in David Townley's
nature to go beyond it by being the first
at this late date to extend the very small
est suggestion of an olive branch, but day
by day he waited. now for some sign from
Emmy, and Emmy, never dreaming of
even so Intellectual a change of heart as
this, made no movement toward him.
She felt very keenly this coming back ar
alien to her own kindred, and being an
Eastman, 1t was also very bitter to come
back poor. but both states were the re-
suit of her own deliberate choice in life.
and she attempted no shuffling with them
now. She considered herself dead to her
father, but Johns people were very dear
to her, and the sadness she felt was con-
cealed under a very brave and cheerful
front.
Both Johns sisters had married in these
intervening years, but the younger broth
er was still at home with his mother. and
to him and to his mother a new atmos-
into the old house with the coming OF
Emmy and little Wilbur. to whom the
~downeast air proved SO powerful "A tonic
that at the end of the second month 1t
was decided, for his sake. that they should
stay for a third. and the beginning of this
third month brought them near the last of
ANONCInDeT, ut WHICH time IL was impressed
upon the child that this was to be his first
New England Thanksgiving.
II won't be any such a one as We used
the day before the festival, but itn be
your first, and we'll try to make it just as
happy as we know how"
turned on Emmy, who, sitting apart and
meditating upon the scanty larder which
was to be ransacked for this Thanksgiv-
ing dinner, was reminded of an old story.
How many hired servants of my father
have bread enough and to spare" Blu she
kept the suggestion to herself and smiled
back in return.
"Oh. we're sure to enjoy any dinner you
cook for us, Mother Eastman. What both
srs me now is a winter overeoat for VII.
trunkful of clothes that used to be in the
attic at home belonging to nv little brother
Wilbur. How handy they'd have come in
the last few years.
The boy drew near, wide-eyed and atten-
tive, as he always was when any mention
was made Of that old home and the little
dead uncle for whom he was named. but
the next moment his grandmother effected
a diversion.
why. Emmy! / wonder if you couldn't
get a coat for Wilbur out Of hat old one
of fathers that's upstairs in the chest. l
mean for you to see, anyway"
A few moments more and the coat was in
their hands, mother. grandmother and Will
bur all eagerly examining. and all uniting
in the verdict that under mothers skillful
fingers a fine overcoat might issue there
from.
I'll rip it up" Wilbur said. 81 know
how, you know. mother"
With scissors and penknife he seated him.
self in the window. After giving him one
or two directions his mother left him to
his work.
HE is such a careful child, he is sure TO
do il right" she said.
In a few moments she was startled by
the childish voice crying:
Mother, Grandmother See the letter
I've found in grandpa's pocket"
Grandpa had had SO little mystery in his
life that 1t could hardly be anything won
derful, yet they both ran eXcitedly in; and
Emmy, arriving first, took the letter in
her hand only to discover that it was won
derful indeed; for this yellow, faded en-
terry which was the nearest approach 10
tragedy Ezra Eastman's quiet life had
ever contained.
It's the $50 that made all the trouble!'
trembling fingers. 'Oh, Mother Eastman,
how do you suppose il got there?"
And for answer Mother Eastman burst
into tears and gasped between her sobs:
"Oh. it's been my fault, and i never
thought of 1t from that day TO this. /
mind now how his coat was ripped between
the lining and the pocket, and he'd asked
me to mend it, and L said / had, but i
didn't until hat night just before he went
out. He took it off for a minute to get
ne some sticks for the settin'.reom fire;
and while he was out L up with it and
PUT in the stitches it needed, but he'd
slipped in the envelope before that, and
that's the way it's been hid all these
years"
So the mystery was explained at last, but
how to explain IL to David was the question
that perplexed both women. 1t was char
tated moment, think nothing of the money
the long doubt and misapprehenSion occu-