my story to him there, that
other, the justice of the peace? But no, it would break your heart to
hear not the end. That we proceed then, though not so cheerful the
ending of my story. Zenobia, in her southern home, happy, with her child
at her knee, feels still in her heart the desire to see once more her
father, to bring him to her, here in the warm south to end his days of
age. She writes, but no answer comes; again she writes, and again, grief
in her soul, to think that anger is between her and one so dear. At
last, after a long time, a letter from her brother, the stay-at-home,
the faithful one; their father is dead; is dead,--without speaking of
her; the property is to him left, the faithful son. It is finished, it
is concluded, the earth is shut down over the old man, and no more is to
say.

"With what tender, what loving words this cruel news tells itself, needs
not to repeat to a person so of feeling as yourself, Sir Scraper.
Zenobia, sad woman, believes what she is told; bows her head, gathers to
her closer her husband and her son, and waits the good time when God
shall make to her good old father the clear knowledge that she has
always loved him. Ah, yes, my faith!

"Now, in a year, two years, I know not, what arrives? A letter, old and
worn; a letter soiled, discoloured, of carrying long in a sailor's
pocket, but still easily to be read. This letter--shall we guess, Sir
Scraper? Well, then, from her father! The old man in secret, in fear,
lying on his bed of death, makes come by stealth a neighbour, kindly
disposed to him; makes write by his hand this letter; makes draw up
besides, it may be, other papers, what do we know?

"Ah! but remain quiet, dear sir. Grieved that I do not interest you, I
must still pray of your presence, that you do not yet withdraw it.
Ancient fish-skin, do I tie thee in thy chair?

"So! that is well, and you will remain quiet, Senor, with a thousand
pardons!

"This letter, then, it is one to wring the heart. He has longed for his
daughter, this poor old man; in two grasping hands held as in a vise, he
turns to her who was always kind, he prays her to return, to let him
come to her, what she will. Failing this, and knowing that on earth the
time is short for him to remain, he bids her not grieve, but send to her
home a messenger of trust, and let him look for a certain paper, in a
certain place. Finally, he prays for her the blessing of God, this good
old man, and bids her farew