The Dallas weekly herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1885, 1873-08-23
Written fr the Sunday IIerald.l
MILDRED'S FATE.
BN NJ. II. NJ.
CHAPTER I.

that shaded brow of almost fcminin,
fairness. "Afier allowing me to toll OF
for four long years in the hope of win
ming you at last, you tell me, now, tha
you have been mistaken in your feel
ings, and, are not ready TO marry. Yor
surely never loved me, or you coull
not have changed as you have"
"Yes, did love you once, Harold,''
answered soft, well-cultivated voice
"but that was years ago, when | was
nothing but a child-mere boy and
girl romance" and Mildred Living
stone laughed'a low, affected laugh, as
she twirled diamond ring around her
slender finger ~ really do not care
in that way for you now, and think
am right to tell you so, but do like
you very much ASA friend, and ] shall
be really vexeu II you do not stay for
my party Tomorrow evening" She
looked up into his face as she conclud-
ed, and met his calm, truthful eyes, be-
fore which her own fell in some confll-
sion as he replied:
"Thank you I do not care to stay /;
my mission hnEe has been trultiess; !
shall return on the early train to-inor-
row morning, and shall say goodbye
tonight"
"Have you my letters with you ?"
she inquired, 81 must ask you to re-
turn them, and, il you wish, I will
send you yours.n ffA
"You shall have them in the morn
ipg," he said pAldIy, and RISING from
his chair beside her, he bowed his fare
well, and turned away, without even
clasping the hanl he had pressed so
often and 50 fontliy.
ooh dear !'!sighcd Mildred, az am
glad it is over" and she went to her
luxurious apartment, and began try
ing the eiShpt al aNeM sci af diamonds,
purchaseufur her adornmpnt, by her
uncle, with whom seo.ltve,l..
Six years before, she and Harold
Ethridge were childish lovers. Living
in adjacent houses, they had played
together in the sweet innocent days of
childhood, and had piightcd hoy and
Sicl faith when hp arow old enough
eoknvc his home and earn name
SSzsH fortune In distant city. His par
cnts were just able to give their only
son an education, fitting him for busi-
ness, leaving nothing in the way of
capital from the proceeds Of their lit
tie farm; while her widowed mother,
who lived in small cottage near the
public road, was their nearest neighbor,
and supported herself and little daugh-
ter by her needle and the sale of bo-
qiets to the many pasaersrhy who
stamped to admire the pro.ty.flowers in
front of the cottage.
About six months after Harold Eth
ridge left home, Mrs. Livingstone sick
ened and died suddenly, leaving Mil
dred, who was nearly fifteen, entirely
alone in the world. ra
Harold's mother took The young girl
home with her from her mothers fll-
neral, and Mvished uE0m her eli the
loving sympathy Of her generous heart.
She had been living at the farmhouse
several months, when Harold visited
his home and found her fast ripening
into lovely woman, whose soft eyes
ana delicate p0mpleXion gaze promise
of exceeding beauty. Tl,ey parted, on
his return to the city, firmly pledged
to each other, and she became the
iodestone of his HE, to which all his
finer, higher senses involuntarily
turned.
He worked with renewed ardor and
strove increasingly to make himself
every way worthy OF the gentle heart
50 sacredly pledged to him. Long, low
ing letters came to him every week,
and in return he wrote her pages of
impassioned wo-ship, telling her all
his hopes and plans, but suppressing
any mention of his trials, that he
might not wound even the sympathies
of the gentle girl who loved him;
4 year passed and Fannie Ethridge
received letter, written In u strange
hand, inqulring for the orphan daugh-
ter of the widow Livingstone, saying
that her mothers brother, who was
rich and childless, had returned from
South America, and longed to meet
the child of his only sister, and take
her to his heart and home, Mildreds
kind falends shod many tears over the
coming separation from the young
girl, to whom their hearts clung so
tenderly, and she half dreaded having
wished for the = arrival of her rich
uncle, and felt almost bewildered when
he came at last, and tooh hor away in
q handsome carriage, drawn by pair
of spirited Gays. The last "good-bye"
had been spoken, she had been pressed
warmly to two loving he2rts, and with
q trembling ''God bless you, my child"
from her second mother, had turned
from the kind friends aud hosnitable
shelter given to her lonely orphanage,
to give herself to guardian no less
kind and loving than those she left.
A year was snent at one of the first
boarding schools for young ladies, two
years travelling with her uncle in Eu-
rope, and then she found herself in a
handsome city residence beauty,
belle, and helress. She had kept up her
correspondence with Harold, but for
some time she had found her interest
In his letters growing less and less, and
the world was ap too surely weaning
her from her early associations, that
were once so dear to her.
In the meantime Harold was fast
gaining reputation as a man of busi-
ness and energy, and his employer of.