His soul is purified by suffering, and this last visit
I made him has given him strength to tell me his whole life. When with a
sigh he ended his story, he looked at me sorrowfully, and said:
"'I suppose you will despise me now, but I feel that after all your
kindness I must tell you, for it is right you should know. Halbert, I
have never told--it is as well not to do so.'"
"Poor fellow," I said, "and we knew it all before."
"No, not all; his life has been a drama with wonderfully wild, sad
scenes, and the great waves of his troubles and errors have, at times,
driven him nearly crazy. His eldest son is an artist like himself, and
finely organized. The other is in the West with an uncle of his
mother's. Are you sorry I have done all this? Speak, my beloved."
My eyes told him that my heart was glad for the little comfort he could
give this man whose perfidy had given me sorrow, and Clara said:
"To help one lost lamb to find the fold is the blessed work my boy
should always do."
Aunt Hildy raised both hands at sight of our pictures, exclaiming:
"Beautiful! beautiful! Splendid! Louis could not have brought us all a
greater surprise, or one that would have been more highly valued."
Little Emily patted and kissed the faces, and soon learned to designate
them, "pit mam and mam Cla," for pretty mamma and mamma Clara.
A few weeks after this we were sitting together in earnest conversation;
the small, dark cloud hung over us that threatened civil war, and while
I could hardly believe it possible, Louis and Clara said it must come.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295