The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1898-12-28

the library to lie down, telling them TO
call him if there should be any change.
He went heavily down the stairs aud
the two were left alone with the dying
child.
Il was strange scene. Each held a
baby hand 4; each with burden Of grief
unutterable bent over the little form
and watched the Pickering life go out
and each shut up and double-loczed
and bolted the heart that the other
should not know what was therein.
They were but hands breadth apart,
but between them was a great guf
fixed.
John Thorne had not seen his child
since that never-to-be-forgotten day
when he gave her and his home into
Margaret's hands and went forth alone.
How he had longed for a sight of the
baby face, for touch of the baby
hands, none but himself would ever
know. But he had been too proud TO
ask 20 see her, aud Margaret had said,
in bitter scorn: at is the way OF the
sex. \ woman would never have for
gotten her own child" And she had
clasped Beth passionateIy to her heart
aud cried out: II will be father and
mother both to. you, my baby, my poor,
forsaken baby -
And she had steeled her heart
against her husband for Beth's sake
and had kept her proudly out of his
way, never doubling for a moment
that his had been a shallow pretense
of love compared with her own.
As he bent over her now, all his heart
in his eyes, a strange feeling of doubt
began tugging at her heart. Had he
really loved the child like this? Un-
comfortable regrets took possession of
her. Could she have misjudged him ?
She might have sent Beth to see him
occasionally, it seemed to her now,
when she had bel. all the time. He had
been more generous than she Ga that
dreadful day when they had made their
final arrangements, aud she had asked,
with beating heart: "And Beth 2' he
had answered: Beth shall stay with
you. A mother has the irst claim. -
And she had never let him see her once.
And Beth had asked for him 50 often
How could she have been so cruel?
Yes, he had been very generous-she
could see it nOw-blt then she had
called him heartless, destitute Of nat
ural affection, shallow natured, and
her own hard-heartedness she had call
ed loyalty TO Beth. Alas alas how
We worship our very vices under the
name Of virtues and never know they
are uliscalled until some lightning-fissh
tears away the rags We have clothed
them in and lays them bare to our
opened eyes
She glanced furiiveiy at him. He
rested his head on his right hand, his
left clasping Beth's His eyes were
fixed on the child as II he would in
these few moments left feast his fam
ished heart upon that which had been
50 long withheld. Something in his
position made Margaret think Of one
other night when they had sat like this
and watched Beth through the Group,
aud how they had felt that il God
would only spare her they could have
nothing 10 life TO trouble them again.
How gentle and tender John had been
that night
And then there was the time that
Beth was burned and John had walked
with her the whole night long, and
would not even let the mother res,
him, because "she was weak aud be
was strong" he had said. How the
memories came thronging upon her
Oh, if she could only wake and find
that this year had been a dreams hor-
rible dream-and there had been no
quarrell She threw her head back and
closed her eyes with sick feeling that
she had dug her own grave.
1t would never be She would find
herself here to-morrog, bat Beth would
be gone-downstairs would be baby
that would look like her, bat it would
not be Beth. Aud then there would be
the funeral. And then the empty
house, the house that John had said
be should never take from her and
Beth. And then-oh what would she
do then? Why, she was only twenty
three, and most people did6't die till
they were old. How could she live
forty years fifty, may be, without
Beth-or-yes-or John
The clock tieked on, the fire sput-
tered iiduily, but the silence Of the
vigil was unbroken. John Thorne rails
cd his head and looked at Margaret as
she lay with closed eyes. Her white,
suffering face touched his heart. How
much older she looked 1t was only
four years since she had stood bride
of nineteen and given herself to him.
Why, could it be only four years II
seemed like an eternity. And yet the
scene rose before him with the vivid
ness of yesterday the organs tone,
the brilliant procession, the subdued
hush Of the church, and then the rec
tors solemn words. He wondered il
be could remember any of them.
"For better, for worse',-hOw they
had jested beforehand over that! They
were so sure it could never be ''for
worse "For better, for worse"-"For
better, for worse = the words said
themselves over sad over. ''In sick
ness and in health'-it was all coming
hack to him-'to love aud to cherish. y
To cherish, that meant to protect, to
care for-he had not done that-but be
had meant to-as God was his judge
he had meant to-he had made those
VOWS in good faith, meaning TO keeI
them all, but somehow il had all been
a miserable failure. He could see the
mistakes now. II he could only blot il
all out aud begin again.
ITO love and TO cherish" He did,
for time, he told himself Their early
married life had been as happy As thai
Of most people, ne could honestly ssy-
"Till death Us do part" sounded shs
preachers ice, as il 1t were now
I ek..tf II - 4 =, -, - -