Omaha daily bee., 1897-02-28

unjust alike, but II warnings are passed by
or, worse still, scoffed at-how can we hope
to profit by them and mend our ways as an
ever-indulgent Providence-eager to forgive
IL we but exhibit a desire for forgiveness
intended they should ?-and when l asked
your father in a most gentle and respectiul
Il hope | know my duty AS a wife by TINS
time) yay II the fire had not pointed a
great moral to him. he said with most regret
table nlppancy--which | have sometimes at
tempted to correct in you. my poor child
that II pointed the moral to be well insurer
and to have fire escapes from the upper
floors; as IL ribaldry like that was not very
much out OF place in speaking OF a solemn
event where two immortal souls went to
their last account without a moment warn
.ing-going, for aught we know. through per
ishable fire to flames that are never quencneu.
The usefulness of this thought makes no I'M
preston on your father. who Is as stubborn
as ever, and ! fear no more just to his men
than before all this happened. a poor
young man named M~arsten has been ruth
lessly discharged by your father. and may
now he wandering about the streets, look
ing for work and starving, for all any one
knows or cares. Ask your father why he
was discharged II you want to know, nut
don't ask me. 1t Is nothing but PRIDE
~pride-pride. My child, take warning while
there is yet time, for the night cometh. far-
den not your heart.
81 shall continue to petition for you both,
for the mercy Is unfailbng and unlimited.
Your loving but sorrowing mother.
SARAH SAHTWELL."
Tho benevolent intentions of this letter
we're in nowise frustrated, and Mrs. Sart-
well would doubtless have been pleased had
she known that the reading of 1t did the
recipient a world Of good. 1t acted as a
tonic and gave Edna something to think
about, preventing any morbid reflections on
tho wreck she had made of Barney's life.
The discharge of Marsten was a great
shock to the girl and for the first time in
her life she thought her father had acted
%unjustly. At first, in pondering over the un-
expected bit of information, she thought her
father had. in some way, heard Of the young
mans visit to Eastbourne; but as she
turned the subject over in her mind she came
to the conclusion that his dismissal was the
result of their meeting in the garden at home
and the finding of Marsten there by her
father. The reason, then. the young man
had time to come to Eastbourne was because
his time was now his own. And yet he had
said nothing about 1t, even when she asked
| him how he got away from duty. He had
spoken well Of her father, although he must
have felt he had been unjustly treated. She
determined to write to her father and tell
him all about Marsten's visit and its result,
but when she sat down with the paper be-
foro her she found she did not know how to
begin. She wished to ask him to repair the
unnecessary wrong he had done Marsten,
for there was not the slightest chance of her
ONSI maj ms INV soNi'6 A"'-f SNN
when she came to put this all down on paper,
the task seemed very difficult. The difficulty
was increased by the knowledge that her
father must at that moment have as much
on his mind as any one should be called upon
to bear, and she pictured the silent man
sitting at home, tired out with the work and
worry of the day, while'the monotonous voice
OF his wife drew moral lessons from every
new obstacle he had to surmount. No; she
would not add a single care to those already
on his shoulders.
The girl sat with her elbows on the desk
her chin In her hands. gazing with troubled
eyes into vacancy, as II the problems that be
set her were in the air before her and could
be hypnotized into solution. A bewilderine
feature of the case was that she had con
tinually, of late, to %readjust her ideas, and
bring them into correct relationship with
some new fact which came within her cog
nizance. All the conversations she had held
with her father, many of his actions, bore
quite a new Significance when she learned
that he knew Marsten loved her. Again, the
fact of Marsten's dismissal lent a sharp
| poignancy to her remembrance of his fervent
declaration that, for her sake, he would
strive to please any master placed over him,
as no man had ever strlyen before. Edn2
did not share her stepmother's fear that the
young man was starving; but her imagina-
ton kindled at the thought of his impassioned
| words, his resolute determination to succeed
addressed to the daughter of the man who
| a day or two before had turned him into the
streets. The more she thought about hel
| fathers action, the more unjust 1t seemed
A dozen times she began q letter and as
| often relapsed again into reverie. Barney
| and his mystical woes faded entirely from
her memory Gradually she came to the
| conclusion that If she did not intervene IN
| Marsten's interests, she would be making
| herself responsible for the continuance OF the
| Injustice; and, although she wished to relieve
Il, yAnnY I L u hnI
feelings toward the young man, still she was
| ashamed to touch upon that part OF the sub
ject.
It might be possible some time, when she
sat at her fathers knee, to tell him about II.
with averted face; but to write 1t, she could
not.
At last she succeeded in drafting a letter,
which she hurriedly posted, fearing that
longer meditation upon the question might
result in 1t not being sent at all:
Dear Father: I am sure you must be
very busy, and perhaps very much worried
at the present moment. You know do not
wish to add to your burden, and would rather
tighten it If I could; but IN that / am as
helpless as you are strong. We made a com"
| pact a While since, and that is why j write.
! Something has happened for which / feel
partly responsible. In a letter received to-
day from my stepmother she says you have
discharged Mr., Marsten, and she thinks he
may now be looking in vain for employment,
| am afraid you were not pleased at finding
him talking to me in our garden, but that
| was my fault and not his. II that was the
| reason. won't you please reconsider and in
wife him back? Your loving daughter.
EDNA"
The answer came almost before she thought
her letter had time to reach London:
my Dear Little Girl: / should have
written days ago. but unfortunately I cannot
dictate an aifectionate letter through my
| shorthand clerk, and the older | grow the
more / dislike writing with my own hand.
Worried? Oh, dear no! Why should one
worry? / am afraid your belligerent old
father still loves a fight, whether with cir
cumstances or with men, Before the fire
was out, telegraphic orders were dispatched
to three machinery firms in the north. While
the fire engines were still finging water on
! the ruins, / had secured a lease OF the -four
houses that adjoin the works, had com-
| pounded with the tenants, and sent them
| packing, That night men were at work
knocking doorways through the partitions
and strengthening the floors. Happily the
engines and boilers were not Injured, being
in a separate building. and already such
machinery as we could get Is in place, and
a long, saggy, wobbllng iron rope carries
the power across the yard. The new secre-
tary OF the union proposed a conference with
me to discuss what the firm was willing tr
do for the men thrown out of work by the
fire. refused TO discuss anything with the
new secretary, he not being an employee OF
mine. He is a shrewder man than Glib
bons; so he at once got up a deputation OF
my own men and sent them TO me. I re-
ceiyed them. of course, and they asked me
II / would give them IS per cent OF their
wages while ont of work. NO said /, !
! -, N...u. A. a. 49,