The Hocking sentinel. [volume] (Logan, Ohio) 1871-1906, 1902-08-07
/. The GUILTY MAN /


but how different his pallor from her
own-his pallor like hone other in the
world
4 shiver passed over her. Did she
love her father: But anger went out
TO him, not her love. Her love was for
Jack. and he could never he anything
TO her. Last night she had written to
lack and told him the truth. and the
truth would separate them forever. She
was the daughter of thief,
What uSelessness il had been for her
mother to move hundreds of miles from
the cid home. 1t had been done for the
husband. not for the daughter. For the
daughter there had been a half years
residence in the new place. and learn
ing To love Il man whom she had last
night declined Ia marry. Her father
had wrought this unhappiness as he
had wrought so much more.
What grief had her father not
wrought? The day he went 10 prison
for the defalcation in the bank where
he had been cashier and her mothers
fathers manager. had not her mothers
said the old banker could not stand the
disgrace. And what more? Had not
der mothers mother. always an invalid.
been stricken by her husbands death,
and never been told of her son-in-law's
crime? There had been mass of de-
cept!on. the poor feeble woman being
led 10 believe that her daughters hus-
band. whom she loved as son, had
gone away on business, and letters
written in his prison cell had been read
10 her. and they told her of great
prosperity in the West. with a cheerful
ness that was appalling. Yes, the girl
almost hated her father as she thought
over the events of the past four years.
And Yet would she have hated him save
for Jack?
She pressed her hands fiercely to her
eyes
Suddenly she started. There was a
step on the stairs. Her mother was
bringing her father up to her. How
should she meet him? Had it not been
tor Jack she knew how she should have
met him. But her father had forced
Jack from her.
The steps ascending the stairs
stopped. There was a cough outside
the library door. She knew the sharp
little cough She used to fly to meet
her father four years back when she
heard that little cough in the hall in the
dear old home. Now she did not move
from the chair she sat in.
She heard voice outside the door
her mother urging her father to enter
the room. Then the handle of the door
turned and her mother led in a strange
y aged man.
The girl arose. Her father stood be-
fore her. expectancy written on his
lace. She went slowly to him and held
her forehead up to his lips Her moth
er looked angrily at her, but she went
back to her seat and caught up some
sewing
Annie" said the mother sharply, .is
this the way TO meet your father? Do
you know that all that has occurred
has been more to me than to any one
else in the world? And yet 1 forgive
because 1 love. And you who have a
lover:"
Il have no lover" coldly interrupted
the girl. Il couldn't deceive him any
longer. / wrote him last night. l told
him the truth and that / would not
marry him"
"Ah.' said the mother. "now l un-
derstand." She turned to her husband.
Mark, do not mind. dear. You have
me, and shall never fail you. Have |
ever failed you? What is done is done. |
1t is all wiped away. 1t is only remem-
bered by your daughter, not by me, and |
rou are as much to me after all the mis-
takes and sufferings as the day when l |
stood by your side and vowed to be a !
loving and true wife till God should |
part US in death. We always spoke of |
you. mother and l."
Your mother" his dry lips said, |
where is she:"
His wife caught his hand
Dear" she said. "can you bear a |
little more:'
He looked at her.
Annie" she said, sternly, "get me
those letters"
The girl went and took from the book |
Ease packet, which she brought to her |
mother
MY letters to your mother" the
mans lips seemed to say, land unop-
ened."
His wife fondled his hand.
1T was only few months ago." she !
said. Il could not tell you the truth |
any more than 1 could tell her. The |
truth would have made you unhappier.
and l wished to tell you myself. She
loved you as she loved me- One morn
ing one of your letters came. and until |
1 could read it to her she asked me to |
let her hold it. An hour later We found |
her with tile letter held up to her heart |
and she was very white and quiet. |
There had been no struggle whatever,
no pain. We laid her beside father.
whom she never ceased grieving for
and who had given her every comfort
In life, even when l am sure he could
hardly afford the extrayagances order
ed by her physicians. 1t is all over, and |
happily over for both of them. dear.
and you were always kind and good to
them"
A low, long sigh broke from the man.
Then silence fell, the sound of tram
bells in the street came distinctly TO
them. and the ticking of the clock on
the mantle was strangely loud.
There was a movement on the part of |
Annie. She rose and came and kneeled |
beside her fathers chair.
Father" she said. you must for
give me. l am not very happy. l do
not mean to be hard. but | can't go
back from my reasoning. You have not
only mother. but you have me also. l
will do what | can. ] am sure you
know that. and after while you will
not miss anything in me-"
haa fn 4