Year: 1867

theft at once-of q few hundred dollars
deposited there. Not that Abner had
dreamt of committing theft. He had
only done what men with not one-tenth
of his conscience do every day, and do
not suffer the slightest self-reproach for
doing. He had only borrowed, mean
ing to put back. Scarcely had he done
the deed, when he was struck with hor-
ror at what he had committed, and had
voluntarily restored the money, confeS-
sed his fault, and requested his dismis-
sal. Abram Lot was man enough to keep
the young mans secret, and to forgive
him as much as his rigid principles of
honesty permitted him to forgive any
lapse of that kind. But Abner Clarel
was dismissed, and never altogether re-
covered from the feeling of degradation
he had brought upon himself. He had
repented and atoned for his fault as
much as it was in his power TO do, and
l, for one, after knowing his secret,
would have stood up against the world
and trusted him with untold millions if
had them.


"Well, my dear, have little more TO
tell you. You will understand very
easily all the rest yourself The Black
berry property was all entailed, and
rented on Anna's death TO Marmaduke
Philson, second cousin to Abram Lot,
and distant relative of my own, and
therefore of yours. If it hadn't been
for the entailment of the estate l feel
pretty sure that every acre and farth-
ing Of it would have been Abner Char
els. But, poor fellow, it was just as
well for him that it didn't, for he didn't
need anything long. / said that his
health was delicate. 1t had not i'm
proved with his trouble. During the
ten years he had been separated from
Anna he had saved few thousand dol
lars. These he now determined to
spend in a trip to Europe, to see what
the south of France would do for his
health. He went there; then he shortly
after died, and there his body now rests.
l suppose that when he first met Anna
Lot, and learned who she was, the re-
membrance of what had taken place
between her father and him years ago
rushed over him, and prevented him
from speaking and making the proposal
that was in his head. Then came news
of Abram Lots death, and he thought
he might venture to ask Anna to be his
wife, with only that one secret from her
which he never could breathe, for very
shame's sake to any one but God. Then
came that dreadful letter from New
York, bringing the intelligence that the
only man in all the world he had cause
to shrink before was yet alive. Then
came long years of torture lest Anna
should have been told the truth about
him, and should have learned to despise
him for what he had been.


"Now, my dear, that'sall | know about
Bleaberry church, and of the three un-
happy people whose name always rise
before me whenever it is named Blea-
berry church has been shut up for many,
many years, and in all probability it
will never be opened until it is pulled
down. AS you see, there are only two
people buried there-Abram Lot, its
founder, and Anna Lott, his only child.
1 must say Marmadukc Philson might
have done better by their memory than
he has. But, mercy on us, child what
are you looking SO grave about p


81 was thinking, aunt, what should
have done if had been Abram Lot!
What would you have done, aunt ~


My aunt slowly folded up her knitting
for the MONDAY sun was getting hot),
looking at me in a grave and curious
manner all the time.


"Don't ask me, child" she answered,
in soft voice. Il never was a mother,
and don't know how should feel in
such case. Abner Charel was n noble
young man, but he had done one wrong
act. can't say. The trouble is III this
life that one can't forget. 1t is one of
the saddest of all troubles that forgiv-
ing and forgetting sin cannot go togeth
er. 1 think l should have prayed to
God earnestly about it, and then done
as | felt He told me to. 1t may be
wrong to speak of dead man so; but !
don't believe Abram Lot did that"