Year: 1875

IN THE BALANCE.


passed miserable day, trying, in my own
mind, to decide what my duty was, but failing
entirely to do so. Filial love and the strong
habits of years were not easy to shake; but
here was new claim, drawing me with mighty
force, which it seemed impossible for me to re-.
sist. Was it not an ordinance of Heaven, l
asked myself, that when this claim was urged,
all others, no matter how ancient, must bow
before it? Why, then, should it seem such a
wrong thing in me to place it first? My con.
science acquitted me of undutfulness, or want
of natural affection. 1 felt that this love,
which had taken such firm hold upon my
heart, was thing of itself, separate and re-
moved from all others.


Then, again, l thought of my father-lone-
ly, forsaken his chief interest in life taken
from him-and the picture made my heart
bleed. He was differently situated from most
fathers. He had no one but me to love and
caress His home would seem desolate with
out his little Rosy's presence. Suddenly the
thought flashed over me that if were to 60,
aunt Mabel might come and live with him.
Whatan excellent plan that would be! They
were very fond of one another, and with Ellen
and myself both married, nothing could be
more fitting than that they should end their
days in the enjoyment of the old companion
ship of their youth. My aunt, knew, would
some idea of seeking her, and asking her ad-
vice, before allowing papa another opportuni-
ty of discussing the subject with me- l felt
almost sure that her sympathies would be en-
listed in my behalf; but then, again, might
not my father be wounded by any appearance
of want of confidence, or desire for the
mediation of third person, on my part


While was thus pondering restlessly on
the difficult question which had so unexpect-
edly arisen, my maid brought me little note,
which she said my father had bid her give
me. I opened it eagerly, and read as fol-
lows:


'MY DEAR RosY.-Wishing to avoid another
interview on what is, to me, unnecessarily painful
subject, judge it best, before meet again, to
write you these few lines.


II do not wish you to suppose, from any re-
mark which may have escaped me while in
state of some mental excitement that have the
least intention of forcing your incnatonS against
their bent. told you this before, but fear may
not have sufficiently impressed it upon you. I'm
derstand, and for all, that you are absolutely
free to make your own choice. If you decide to
leave me, 1 shall feel no anger at your decision.





happiness, will ever accompany you.


''rhere is another point, however, which
must equally bring before your consideration.
Should you marry DR.. Wardlaw, you must make
up your mind to the fact that all intercourse be- m
tween myself and him must cease. You will al
ways be welcome under my roof, whenever you
desire to visit me; but to your husband my doors
will not be open. You will naturally wish to
know whether l have any specially antagonistic
feeling toward him. Speaking personally, have
not. As friend, like and esteem him; as a SON
in-law, the wider the distance that separates him
from ME the better pleased I shall be. You call
not understand this it is not necessary that you
should. speak calmly and without ill ll-feeling;
but my resolution in the matter is fixed, and no
argument will avail to shake it.


"Do not permit yourself to be influenced by
any consideration for my personal comfort in the
case of my remaining here alone. shall do very
well, and have many resources for employing
my mind, and preventing time from hanging
heavily on my hands.


"Having explained myself, as I think, in
manner which can leave no room for misunder-
standing, will end here, with the assurance that,
whatever you may determine upon doing, shall
ever remain


"YoUR MOST AFFECTIoNATE FATHER"


read and re-read the note, trying to de-
rive some comfort from it but though the
liberty given me to make my own choice was
absolute, the granting of it was couched in
terms which made it painful gift. What
strange, unsatisfactory conditions were those
which my father imposed upon me in the
event of my marriage! How could be sat-
is6ed, knowing that there was an impossible
gulf of separation between my husband and
himself? The knowledge of its existence
would take away half the happiness of my
married life. Yet, on the other hand, had I the
right to blight the future of another as we'll
as my own, for what seemed to me now merely
the emanation of caprice, or Of a strange y
warped and disordered mind2 My father
distinctly assured me that he had no objection
to offer against DR.. Wardlaw as friend, but
simply in the event of his becoming his SON.
in.law Such being the case, no matter whom
I married, the result would be the same. l
must, therefore, either make up my mind to
submit to the singular terms he proposed, or
resolve never to marry at all. A hard alter
native, truly! Situated as | was, it was more
than hard; it was maddenng. Oh for a
counsellor, guide on whose wisdom I could
rely to help me! But had none-none but
my own heart, now sorel y perplexed and toss
ed upon sea of doubt. Even to my kind
godmother 1 could not freely have expressed
the emotions that agitated me- Tender and
motherly as she had always been, she had
never come between my father and myself |
could not ask her to do 80 now.


Dinner-time came. had racking head
ache, but thought it best to 60 down. My
father strove to appear as usual, and no allu.
sion to anything but ordinary topics was made
by either of US.


| passed the afternoon as had done the
morning, brooding in my own chamber. Ma
tilda, my faithful femme ds-chan,bre, perceiv-
ing that I was distressed about something,
hovered with affectionate solicitude about me,
trying to discover the cause ofmy trouble.
told her my head ached, and she insisted on
bathing it with eau-de-cologne. [ submitted
passively to her efforts, and to the stream of
conversation, or rather gossip with which she
strove to beguile me during the process; for
I was tired of my own unhappy thoughts, and
found even humble companionship sort OF
relief


"Let me bring your tea up to you, Miss
Rosamond. Don't worry yourself to 60 down
again tonight. Your pa won't mind" said
the sable maiden persuasively, when the tea
bell rang. "You amt fit to be anywheres
but in bed, this blessed minute; you looks
like ghost.


Never mind, Tilly I'll go down. 1t won't
make me feel worse" said l, looking pitifully
at the reflection of my pale cheeks and heavy
eyes in the glass. | was so unused to sorrow,
it seemed to me pathetic thing that should
be made to suffer 80 much, and all for no fault
of mine.


The weary evening wore away, and the
clock struck the hour for retiring. As bid
papa goodnight, he retained my hand in his.


avon look ILL.," he said, with al anxious