The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1874-02-05


young man of his acquaintance, for Colo
RADIO. For three years he had hare
time. Then he found some business il
Denver, and was prospecting there, wher
he lost everything in fire. Since Their
their only tidings of him was that he hat
gone to California. Her brother grew
into very promising ambitious boy, and
all the hopes her father had buried fol
himself sprang into new life for his son
He was carefully educated and entered
college at . very early age; but, from
over-exertion, his brain became diseased
and he died at the beginning of his
sophomore year. Her father, who had fol-
some time been in feeble health, did no
long survive the shock of his death, anG
few months later her kriefstricker
mother was laid beside them in the village
churchyard. When the minister's small
estate was settled, it was found tina: only
about q thousand dollars remained fol
Bessie, who soon took up her abode with
3 cousin Of her fathers, in q town thirty
miles south of Marston. Not wishing to be
burden to her kinsman, for two years
she had taught the village school; and
this summer, hearing that q housekeepel
was wanted at the Bears Head Hotel
which was but short drive from hel
new home, she had sought and obtained
the situation.
"Bessie," said I, when she had finished,
and we had talked little while about hei
own family-"Bessie," flor didn't wish
to speak at once of john, II wonder you
haven't married. I am sure it hasn't
been for lack of lovers"
NO." she replied, after a moments
silence. There were two, either of whom
my cousin thought would have been de.
sirable match for me; and, as they made
no secret of the matter themselves, am
at liberty to speak of them. The first
was Tom Stevens, who used to tease me
50; a very good man now and the owner
of the principal store in the village. The
other was my fathers successor in the
ministry, widower with two girls. l
like Tom and l have great respect for
Mr.. Fanshaw; but, Mary, must tell you
my whole heart. have never loved any.
one but John; and I am sure, if
he is living, he loves me. When
he went away, he put this ring
on my finger, and asked me to wait for
him, if it was ten years. Until his mis-.
fortunes at Denver he wrote to me very
often; but since then no ono has heard
from him. I sometimes fear he is dead (;
but would rather remember him than to
marry any other man in the world!"
What sweetness, what pathos was in
her face, her voice, as she said this. The
very wind lulled to listen to her words,
and in my heart prayed: "God grant
John Farley may be alive and true"
After this Bessie spent every evening
with me, either in my room or walking
on the grassy plot that overlooks the sea.
We talked Of thousand things; and l
found her the same genial, affectionate
companion she had been in early days.
It made me sad to look forward and think
of the narrow, lonely life she must lead
and resolved as soon as got home to
institute search for John. could not
believe him dead; and fckleness and
falsehood were not in him.
NV new.found friend and the charm of
the sea won me to protract my stay till
the cool days of September. But the time
came when I could delay no longer. My
trunks were packed for early departure
on the morrow; my last arrangements
made; and, after a twilight talk with
Bessie, went to the parlor to say farewell
to the pleasant people l had met there
during my sojourn. As I crossed the
hall, the stage from the last Boston train
was at the door; and I saw tall gentle.
man alight and 60 over to the office to
record his name. A half hour later the
same gentleman entered the parlor with
the landlord and stood near me, talking
and watching the dancers. With his fine
size, his dark, striking face, and his air of
ease and command, he would have been
anywhere noticeable man. As observed
him, he said to the host: ''I'm amazed at
the changes which have taken place in
this part of the country since left To
think of q railway among the hills of
Marston. I expected to have been there
tonight; but, finding the last train did
not 60 through, stopped here to have a
glimpse of the sea-
"Who is he," thought I, THAT speaks
of Marstons"
"How long have you been in Califor.
nias" asked the landlord.
"Nearly six years" he replied. IL was
long time in Colorado before going
there"
With nv heart in my mouth, stole
sut and asked the clerk to let me look at
his register Of arrivals. could not be
mistaken. There it was, in q bold, run
ming hand: "John Farley, Los angeles,
California"
Going quickly back, I found him stand.
ing alone now, and said: Pardon rue,
but you are Deacon Farley's son, of Mars.
ton, are you not?'
II am" he replied. .But have for
gotten you"
s.Don't you remember Bessie Hyde's
friend, Mary Temple?" = sa-.---'
"What!" said he, with heightened color.
"Are you little Mary Temple, who went
to school with us one summer? Then
perhaps you know something of Bessie. y
EYES," said. "Bessie is we'll and in
this house."
"And is she still"-and his voice fal
tered. lis she still Bessie Hyder'
Eyes, she is still Bessie Hyde"
"Then go to her, please. and tell her
John Farley is here and wants to see her
this moment"
"But not in this crowded room," I said.
"Open that door and 60 out to the sum.
mer-house on the Point, and I will send
her to you"
His earnestness, his emotion made me
feel that all was right with him regarding
Bessie; and, flying up stairs, went into
the room where she sat darning table,
cloth, with the settled calmness on her
face Of one who has nothing more to ex-
pect or hope for.
Bessie" exclaimed, an old friend of
yours is waiting to see yon in the sum.
mer-house. You must 60 down at once"
'ls it some one from Marston?" she
asked, quietly folding her work.
Eyes, some one from Marston. Make
haste, dear" I said, throwing q light
shawl over her shoulders and kissing her
cheek. And, as she disappeared in the
darkness, I sought my own apartment and
knelt in thanksgiving for the happiness
awaiting this gentle, true hearted woman,
who had thought all her bright days were
over.
1t was past eleven o'clock. The music
had ceased and the last dancers were
coming up the stairs, when some one
knocked lightly ct my door. l opened it,
and Be:sy entered, rosy, radiant, trsnsag.
ured with Joy. g
why, Bessie" said I, ''if you would