The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1874-04-24

tune he was about to leave to his only
child. Obeying this summons, Edward
Lancaster found his friend already dead
and the orphan turning to him for con
ISOLATION. He took her home, gave hel
to Mrs. Keene, his housekeeper, as he
would have done with a baby, for care
and comfort, and retired again 20 his
study.
Between his eyes and the pages Of his
book came ever the face of the orphan
girl. He found himself sitting idly be-
fore his papers, listening for the sound
of a musical voice in the passage OF
garden. He neglected his studies, to
count the hours between meals,
when he met his ward at table. Never
before had a woman's face or voice
Weakened even a passing emotion in Ed
ward Lancaster's heart, and, interest
once aroused, love crept in and took
root, deep, strong, lifelong. There
was no possibility of driving away this
love, once it was admitted. Edward
Lancaster knew that Edith must be won
if he was ever to know happiness in life
again. If he lost her, he would live,
bury himself in his books once more /;
but never again could the same peace
he had known be found.
When he told the child (she was but
seventeen) he loved her. she nestled in
his arms, lifted her sweet face to his,
and promised to be his wife. He never
doubted her love, strange as it seemed,
and they were married within six
months of Edith's arrival at her new
home.
Once she was his own, Edward Ian
easter made his wife a perfect f~avorite
of fortune. He left his dearly-beloved
library to escort her to gay watering
places in summer, to balls and parties
in winter. He never counted the cost
of any indulgence she craved. Her
dress was of the costliest description /;
her jewels were the envy of Ter circle
of friends and she had but to nam u
wish to have it gratified. She was of
the sunniest temperament, child-like in
her gratitude, and fitting from pleasure
to pleasure as a bird flies from fruit to
flowers.
Life had been very sweet to Edward
Lancaster in the three years following
his marriage, though many wondered,
seeing the grave, elderly man, how he
came to marry his child wife.
But as he paced his room in the
Whiteclif Hotel, Edward Lancaster
questioned his happiness as he had
never questioned it before. The letter
he held fast in his clenched hand, the
conversation upon The porch, combined
to probe his heart to its core, and the
question hidden there rose to the sur
face.
Did Edith love him?
She had been always gny, tender, af-
fectionate, deferring to his wishes,
more like a child with an indulgent
father than a wife for, as yet, but little
wifely duty had been exacted of her.
OF household care she had none. Her
life had been passed in perpetual pleas
ure-sceking, with no call for sacrifice.
But the letter, the fateful letter, told
the tender husband that the wealth he
had held 80 ~carelessly for years WAS
gone in one great commercial crash /;
n hour a man of riches, the next a
pauper. 1t was all gone, his lawyer
wrote. and the sale of Elmsgrove, his
home, would scarcely cover the liabili-
ties incurred in the past three years.
Edith Edith ! That was the cry of
the mans heart. His darling who had
been shielded from every rude blast,
who had known only the brightest side
of life under his care, who had married
him for money, perhaps!
Had she married him for money?
The thorn, once planted, stung him
sorely. He was not a vain man, but he
had thought his love, SO devoted, SO
true, had won u return. Money had
been to him, all his life, 80 small a con-
sideration, never feelingits want, that he
had never taken it into consideration,
except to be glad it was his to give
Edith every indulgence And now the
hateful thought rose, and pressed him
sorely, that Edith married him for what
he had lost, and could give her no