The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1898-09-06
Mof|e 5 Good Work.
BY W. x.

Matte ColWell had been tnqu1rln
how 1t Jared with Simon cartwright
the rich man of Upham, who lay vast
ing with fatal illness. Not youn
man, yet one who carried fifty-seyel
years as erectly as thirty, and who ha'
| borne promise Of long life before tn
fatal disease came suddenly to end hi
hope. In the "auld lang syne" which
every man and woman past their frs
youth carries in their heart, Simon
cartwright had wooed pretty Matti'
Colwell and won her love. Befor,
their betrothal was six months old
when the lovers we're driving out to-
gether, the horse he'd taken fright, run
away, and Matte was thrown out anG
crippled for life. When this was an
established fact the girl had hidden hel
lover farewell, and, refusing all his
warm entreaties, had taken up the bur.
den Of her life alone. AS years rolled
by her infirmities had increased, until
at fifty she was a feeble old woman
beside the strong, stalwart lover of her
youth.
It had been one of the rare cases
where love had mel)owed into lifelong
friendship, though Simon had married
and lost his wife, and had one son liv-
ing, estranged from his father, son
upon whom Matte had poured out all
the mother-love that every woman
hides in her heart.
But while sorrow, pain and loneli-
ness had never hardened Mattie's
heart, but left it at fifty as tender,
pure and true as 1t was at seventeen,
Simon cartwright had grown hard and
stern, devoted to money-making, and
full Of worldly wisdom. When his old
love had timidly tried to heal the
breach between himself and Edward,
his first-born, he had repulsed her good
Offices so sternly that she had never
dared repeat them, and only comforted
her heart by corresponding with the
boy she loved so we'll
But the fiat had gone forth that over
came all womanly timidity, and Matte,
when her question was answered, went
slowly to her own room, her head bow
ed and tears coursing down her wither-
ed cheeks. Once there, she knelt and
prayed, long and fevently. She rose
from her knees very pale, but with a
steady light In her soft, brown eyer,
and, putting on her demure, Quaker
like bonnet and cape, went out into the
chill, winter air. All about her the
snow-flakes whirled in the bitter wind,
but she kept forward till she stood at
the door Of the great white house
Simon cartwright had built for his
home. The househeeper, who opened
the door; knew Miss Matte WE'LL for
the crippled old maid was beloved BY
every man, woman and child in Up
ham, for her gentle charities and noble,
self-sacrificing life.
I'm glad you've come to see Mr..
cartwright" said the housekeeper,
"for he is very bad to-day. He can't
lie down now at all, without suffocating
spells. Will you 60 up?"
Up to lofty room, luxuriantly fur
nished, where the sick man sat in a
great armchair. far away from the
rudy great fire that tortured his
lungs.
With a smile that but few people
ever saw upon his hard face, Simon
cartwright stretched out his hand to
Matte Colwell.
II felt sure you would come when
they told you how bad l was,' he said,
folding her little white hand in his
own, almost as white now. You have
not been my friends OF late, Mattie?"
always your friend, Simon" was
the answer, "but thinking you wrong
In one act Of your life. 1t is for that
l am here"
She threw aside her hat and cape as
she spoke, and took chair beside the
invalid. Upon his face had gathered
a hard frown. His lips were firmly
folded, and his eyes cruel as death.
Matte said:
you will forgive Ned, Simon?"
Never! He disobeyed me where I
had most set my heart"
He married Lucy Wheaton, loving
her,"
"a girl whose father was a common
1runkard, who died in delirum ire
mems and was buried by charity"
But a good, pure girl, who nobly
lid her duty to father and baby sister
Ill both died. A loving, tender girl,
lgainst whom there was no whisper OF
eproach, and faithful good wife now
or three years. You will not die un-
orgiving!"
Il have made my will. 1t Is here"
md he opened a drawer in the table
eside him. There are some legacies,
tut the bulk Of my fortune goes to
ound a library In Upham, this house
o be used for the purpose. Ned will
ave five hundred dollars"
"Oh, Simon, destroy that will"
when Edward defied me, when he
lung to the girl detested and secret
r married her, told him he was my
IN no longer. He has lived for three
ears away from me-"
Starving upon clerks salary, when
8 had passed tho first twenty-five
ears of his life in luxury"
He made his choice"
II remember" Matte said, in q
'eamy voice, as II she had forgotten
sr listener, "the day Ned was born.
Dor Mary lay so iii we feared she must
e, and while others were busy around
ar bed the wee tab was brought to
e. He was like you, Simon, with
eat dark eyes and broad brow, and
It he had Mary's mouth, so sensitive
I'd tender, quivering with every emo
IN. remember when he was a week
d. had him in the nursery when
III came in, staggering like man I'M
r a heavy burden, till you fell on
ur knees beside me, to sob:
" God has taken Mary but He has
I my boy! Thank God for my boy!'
A long, quivering sigh broke from
Q invalids lips.
II can see him as he was at three ,
ars old, with his brown curls shining I
e satin, falling over his little velvet I
at, his soft, round cheeks rosy with 7
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