Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1873-03-27

JSTIN, MOWER COUl
her in the shape of her mothers sutlde
death.
"Auntio Wilkinson" made up fc
all post neglect, then, by Offering IL,
poor, fricndless orphan home in lie
handsome Madison avenue mansion
There tho first month that followe
Letitia's bereavement was passed whe
with the same suddenness that had al
tended her first atfliction, she wa
called upon to bear second.
Victor Buchanan wrote to her frOI
Paris letter filed with the widest eA
pressions of grief, and telling that hi
had left little boy, but the infant ha'
survived his mothers death by no
longer than q day.
Amid all her grief, Letitia could no
but feel consoled at the intelligence
which V:ctor's letter contained-of hi
Purposcl immediate return to Ne,
York. His face and character wer
more familiar than those of the com
parative strangers by whom she wa
now surrounded, and it would be al
inexpressible pleasure to meet hin
once more and hear from his lips tn,
details of poor. Florence's dying mo
ments.
Auntie Wilkinson, an elderly lady o
rather strict social ideas, stood b,
when Victor and his young sister.in
law at length met; and 1t is safe t.
say she felt immensely shocked at tn,
atfectionate fervor with which Mr.. Blu
chanan was embraced and kissed b,
the beautiful young creature, wh(
seemed SO overwhelmed with joy te
see him.
Victor, in spite of his recent widow
hood, was but man and it was hard,
during the long interview that followed
between himself and Letitia Atherton
to shut his eyes to the fact of how
year had ripened her charmss into an
ensemble of such womanly loveliness
as her sombre costume could in no way
conceal. Perhaps it was because she
reminded him of the Florence whom
he had adored so passionately that he
now noted her with such depth of i'll.
concealed admiration.
The interview, however, was of q
mournful character. He described tc
Letitia the death bed of his wife, and
told how peacefully and resigned hel
pure spirit had passed away. Her las,
words had concerned the opal bracelet
given her on the day that their be-
trothal was sealed.
"Promise me, Victor" she had said
"that you will guard it sacredly as q
memory of our life together, whatever
changes the years may hereafter bring
to you. Promise me that no arm save
mine shall wear it, whatever new love
time may console you with"
And Victor had solemnly promised
The young widower's visits were
quite frequent at Mrs. Wilkinson's
house during a space of fully fou,
months, and the uninterrupted inter-
views between himself and Letitia yer,
frequently likewise.
10 Mrs. Wilkinson nothing seemed
more natural than that such visits and
interviews should take place.
It was almost like the bursting of 9
bombshell when Victor Buchanan m
nounced to her one evening that he had
asked for the hand of her neice, and
had received an affirmative answer.
Braving comments, they were mar.
ried about three weeks later, and LIE.
titia found herself the proud sharer o.
Victor's name and fortune.
It was not till after marriage, per
haps, that she confessed to herself tho
real truth concerning how she had
loved Victor at time when such love
seemed capable of resulting in nothing
except misery; nor was it till then,
either, that o full realization of how
perfectly her latent, though intense
ambition, had been gratified made
itself clear to her.
Not long after their marriage, Mr.
and Mrs. Buchanan were installed il
superb residence, and living at rate
OF expenditure that to say the least, o
it, harmonized perfectly with Mr.. B.t
liberal income.
"Recent bereavement in the family,
as Letitia cuphemistically expressed it.
would prevent them from entertain
ing for at least a year to come; but a,
the end of that time they hope to do sc
in manner consistent with their
wealth and social standing."
And at the end of the year Mrs. Blu.
chanan so far kept her word as to send
out cards for grand ball. For many
days before it was to happen this ball
formed the subject of countless on dts,
and was universally prophesied to be
the most important similar affair of the
season.
On the evening when Letitia Bu-
chanan, robed in a dress whose rich
ness of lace and needlework seemed
wholly indispensable, swept through
the yet vacant but brilliantly lighted
drawing rooms of her splendid man.
sion, pride lent a richer color to the
complexion, for which many a woman
would have spent thousands, and gave
perhaps more voluptuous swell to the
superb bust, whose whiteness cleaned
under sparkling diamonds and mist-like
point Cle Vensce.
"He loves me thoroughly" she
murmured in low, scarcely audible
tones. "He has forgotten Florence's
love as though it had been the merest
unsubstantial dream. I possess him
utterly as my own. Then her lips
were silent for a second or two, grow
ing frlner as she continued. "And
yet for oil that I am certain of his
entirely, I still mean to test it. I shall
never rest until I receive that proof. ;"
She was knocking at the door of her
husbands dressing room; presently
I" May ] come in, Victors You're
dreadful Late
He opened the door and stood, dress
ed in full evening costume. before her.
81 am lost in admiration, Letitia, -"
he murmured. "No houri was ever
lovelier than you are now."
"And yet, Victor, I have had a fancy
that my costume needs just one thing
to complete it,"
What's that2"
She held up an arm faultless enough
for the Greek Phryne of old, saying:
"This needs an ornament of some
kind, Victor"
"Pshaw! you're joking, love. You
count your bracelets by scores.''
L know it; but y her beautiful
lips were very close to his ear now, ant
those marvellous arms of hers were
wrcathing his neck "there is one
bracelet, Victor, that you will not give
me. mean an opal bracelet, which
you keep up stairs in that great, old
fashioned cabinet. Shall l tell yot
why you will not give me this?"
"I am amazed, Letitia. You wei
know it is because"
Because YOU loved Florence bette