The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1905-12-23

be sure she meant what she said, but he was
her son in more than name and inherited
much of her pride.
Next morning he went to the home of his
inancee with the answer he had promised to
bring. AS soon as the prospective bride and
groom were alone for moment Aline anx
iously inquired:
"Well dear, did you have any success? Oh,
| read my answer in your face! 1t is still,
"No,' l see. Maybe | am wrong TO marry
you under the circumstances. | have so often
asked myself if have the right to separate
| mother and SON.
Putting his arms about her, Harold fondly
| replied:
at is too late now, little one, to question
your right. We are not to blame for the posi-.
| ton my mother has taken, and, while l very
much regret it, l do not let the thought of
change in our plans enter my mind. Every
person has the right to settle his future for
himself so far as marriage is concerned. If
anything but family pride formed the basis of
my mothers objection | might consider it,
| but with that have no sympathy. To me you
are all that is noblest and best in women, and
l am proud to know will soon have the right
to call you WIFE "
| Putting her arms about his neck, she said:
''Some day, dear, we may win her over.
She may be lonely then and need our love-
MAY God speed the day. fervently re.
sponded Harold. Heaven bless you for those
words, dear. Goodby now for awhile. To.
night will come to claim my BRIDE
X
The published notice of the wedding was
read by many who were interested in the stand
which would be taken by Mrs. Chesney, as
her opposition, though never broached by her,
was fully understood among her friends. Har-
| old was favorite and was missed from soci-
ETY.. When invitations from friends came to
him they were politely but firmly declined on
the plea of business and because of his resid-
ing in a small suburb. His necessity for ap.
plying himself so closely to business was
great, but even his friends underestimated his
manliness. As discarded son he would suf.
fer any privation before accepting aid from
| his mother.
Only his closest friends were invited to his
little home, and those were enthusiastic in
their admiration of his charming wife.
Harold's leaving the city was caused by
consideration of his mothers feelings, al
though motives of economy also inhuen ced
him, and, while things were hard at first, he
was happy and soon had the trials of start
in life we'll behind him.
After two years son came, and it seem ed
the crowning joy of their life. AS the child
grew and spIead sunshine in their hearts Har.
old and his wife often yearned to have his moth
er see the boy. Once he heard she was i'll
and wrote begging to be allowed to serve her.
No response coming, he was convinced that
he was still unforgiven. Three years later
the birth of baby girl left the young couple
nothing to be desired except the one wish,
now scarcely ever mentoned-the hoped for
reconciliation with Mrs. Chesney.
This apparently relentless woman lived a
lonely life, outwardly cold and proud, but at
times something pulled at her heartstrings
which she was growing to respect. Her hold
on society was slackened for it was no longer
attractive to her. She missed more and more
the son who had been her companion every
where Her beautiful home was no longer
the scene of social gayeties.
Ten years, with their many changes, had
| rolled around since the night Harold Chesney
1 l,r i, IN, ,,irif md
weak in body, her lonely life seemed to be
drawing to a close. Implacable to the last.
Mrs. Chesney had often thought of the son
whom she had discarded. News had reached
her of his many trials and his manly fight in
| the battle of life. Often she had yearned to
help him, but she knew he was too much like
her to accept anything at her hands. Sur
rounded by every luxury that wealth can g We
and still attended by the old family servants,
the saddeued woman could not subdue the
| longing she sometimes felt for some one to
love and by whom to be loved. She had long
since entirely given up society and gradually
secluded herself from the public eye. After
long illness the physicians had declared they
could do nothing more.
The maid who had for many years been the
faithful companion of Mrs. Chesney under
stood more than was supposed of existing cir
cumstances. Knowing that the son would
succeed to the fortune and suspecting that
grief was the main trouble with her mistress,
she on her own responsibility notified Harold
| Chesney of his mothers approaching end.
Al.
! the servant wondered fher interference would
yield good fruit She was startled from her
dream b. the rumble of carriage wheels. the
| sound Of closing door and low voices. The
silent form in the bed seemed not aware of
anything.
After long years the discarded son stood
once more in the home of his boyhood. With
him was a dainty child of five years, his only
daughter. Engrossed in his sad thoughts, he
paid no heed to the little one. A stranger in
his own home and longing for reconciliation
with his we'll beloved mother, he awaited the
summons to the sick room. Upstairs the
weak voice of the dying woman suddenly
cried out:
"Helen ~
The fast closing eyes were now seeing the
lost darling of other days. The maid was
| frighted, not understanding this last boon so
often sent to those near the gates of the other
world.
"Helen!' again walled the sick woman.
Immediately the door of the bedroom was
gently pushed open, and the startled servant
saw little girl timidly enter. The eager eyes
of the sinking woman had also seen, and, with
! outstretched arms, she cried:
"Oh, Helen, my darlng!"
With joyful cry the unhappy mother folded
to her hungry heart the little form, satisfied
that this was her long dead baby.
The anxious father at last missed his little
Helen and traced her to the now silent cham.
ber. His heart leaped with joy at the sight
of bis child in his mothers warm embrace.
A., h. IL