"Father," said Judith, inexpressibly pained by his deplorable
situation, and this so much the more from her ignorance of what
remedies ought to be applied - "Father, can we do any thing for
you? Can Hetty and I relieve your pain?"
"Father!" slowly repeated the old man. "No, Judith; no, Hetty -I'm
no father. She was your mother, but I'm no father. Look in the
chest - Tis all there - give me more water."
The girls complied, and Judith, whose early recollections extended
farther back than her sister's, and who on every account had more
distinct impressions of the past, felt an uncontrollable impulse of
joy as she heard these words. There had never been much sympathy
between her reputed father and herself, and suspicions of this very
truth had often glanced across her mind, in consequence of dialogues
she had overheard between Hutter and her mother. It might be going
too far to say she had never loved him, but it is not so to add
that she rejoiced it was no longer a duty. With Hetty the feeling
was different. Incapable of making all the distinctions of her
sister, her very nature was full of affection, and she had loved
her reputed parent, though far less tenderly than the real parent,
and it grieved her now to hear him declare he was not naturally
entitled to that love.
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