Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1860-11-16

see ne. As usual. she had plenty of sue-
gesticns to make TO Mrs Smith, which
that lady received in silence, Iut with a
twinkle in her eyes At length Mrs. Bish-
op followed ME into the library.
Well, Sandie, she remarked, seating her
self, since you do not seem disposed to full
I'll my prediction and marry your house
keeper, | suppose may speak of her free
ly. l have thought from the first that she
was very artful woman | haze no doubt
that when she came here she meant to mar
ry you. She is very attentive now, but of
course she has her motives | can see
If any trial should come you would find out
who your friends were.
Mrs Bishop was right in this, for tbe
trial did come, and | saw who nv friend
was, my own friend.
l was taken i'll in the Spring. Ny sick
ness came on suddenly. I was attacked
" tn severe head ache and sharp pains in
the back. The first two days Mrs. Bishop
spent in assiduous care of me; though to
confess the truth her attentions were un-
welcome. and | would far rather have been
abandoned to the tender mercies of my
housekeeper, who rarely came into my
room when my sister in law was there
The third morning my p ysician pronoun-
ced my disease the small pox. Even in
that moment of terror looked at Eliza
Bishop. Her face paled and I could see
her hands shake. She spoke in a tremb-
ling voice
i wish I could stay with you, Sandic !;
| wish could. If it were only for myself,
| would, but for my children"
Il would not have you stay I answer
ed. Il would not have you run the risk
for worlds. | trust you have not endan-
gered yourself. Goodbye, sister Eliza"
She went out of the room, and turned
to Mrs. Smith who was standing near.
"Now you must 60, also The doctor
Will find some one to nurse me, and you,
too, must look out for your children"
q must look out for you, sir. Ny duty
is here, now. Live or die, Twill stay with
you while you need me-"
The little woman's voice was firm, and
her eyes shone with clear, resolute light.
l had not thought she possessed so much
will and courage.
''Consider," said I. Do you realize
all the risk you run? Of loathsome dis
ease, Disagreement, perhaps death
| have considered it all, said she, and
shall stay.
Was I selfish to allow it Perhaps so,
but even in that hour of deadly peril, I,
who had never loved oman before, longed
to have her at my side, to share my dan
ger, nay to die, if I died to live for me,
or failing that, for no other.
l need not give the details of the sick
ness which followed--the weeks of terrible
suffering when my body and soul could
scarcely cling together. / look back upon
it, strong man as ] am, with shivering
cad.
1t was owing. under God, to her, tt at
death, who stood waiting at my pillow day
after day, at length passed me by. What
nurse she was! vigilant, sleepless, until
ring, Perhaps it was owing to her calm
courage that she did not take the disease
She seemed to be always near me, and
yet she found time to make herself look
as neat and tidy as usual. Everything in
the room, after | was able to notice any
thing, was in scrupulous order Delicate
flowers as sweet as herself, blcomed on my
table, pleasant, dreamy, half-light filed
the apartment. What change from tie
old boarding house day!
| was thinking of this gracious care and
tenderness, as | sat up for the first time by
the window. Mary-I had learned to call
her so during my illness-was out of the
room, but tie tokens of her were all
around me. Presently she came in and
sat down by my side.
Mary, | said, almost involuntarly, |
have been thinking | ought to thank you
for saving my life. And yet do not know
as am grateful. Life will not be of
much value unless you Will STARE it. With
you for my wife, l could be happy. but if
you cannot love me you might as well have
let me 60 by the board.
| had spoken seriously and sadly, but a
merry twinkle dance in her eyes.
So you think, now, you could stand not
only the children, but my having loved
some one else?
Then you heard the foolish speech af-
ter all 1t wasn't meant for your car
Forgive it. You are too good for me any
how ask nothing better if you can love
me, than to take you just as you are.
Children and all?
Children and all; I'll try and be father
to them, Heaven helping NE.
shall be satisfied sir, if you will be
their brother, since they are my mother s
children, not mine.
And Mr.. Smith is
My father. He failed in business last
year, thoug ! am happy to say he is iiv-
ing and well. I wanted to help him. but
the only thing | knew how to do was to
keep house. 1t seemed a proper enough
occupatihn for an old maid like me You
see | am not very young, sir. When |
found you thought ne a widow with chill
dren, | determined to favor the odd mis-
take. / thought it would seem more dig
nifed. am not Mrs. Smith, but plain
Mary Smith, spinster, at your service, or
at service in your family, if you ike that
way of stating it better.
And you will change your title and re-
tain your situation?
Her answer was no ones business Ius
my own.
Six weeks afterwards my ST. tcr-in-law
,Vov ;nrited IN nv, vrc1Iinr Shn lacked