Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-10-28

could talk to her of the story that she knew
already, and tell her about the day when l
looked back and saw the little figure in
the window holding up my child for me
to see.
Well, you have guessed already, I sup
pose. at the end Of this beginning. !
never loved Harriet Stanhope-never
But it came to me slowly at first, and very
reluctantly, and then with a great shock
that this woman cared for me. And be-
gan to think of the possibility of her tax
ing-in mems eyes at least and to out
ward seeming-Edna's empty place.
She was lonely, too, as | was, with no
near relatives, no home, and sorroWful
outlook before her. | never could bear
the sight of solitary and uncared-for
woman, and this woman touched all my
pity and sympathy. I gave her that and
my friendship most freely and sincerely,
and that was all. But l began to think
that even without love life might be
sweetened little, and so / said to myself
that | would marry her.
l did not resolve hastily. | had known
her for two years before had thought of
it at all, and then it was long before the
idea took a definite shape. [ was travel
ing in the West, and one of the letters
meeting me at large town in Ohio de-
cided the last doubt that was in my mind
[ read it twice and then walked the floor
all night, and lived my life over in mem
DRY and reached far into the future to
plan out what il would be-what it must
be if God preserved it-and then sat
down to write to Harriet.
1t was only natural that should dream
that night of Edna. She came to me at
dawn and stood by the bedside with the
child-my son, who bore my name and
was 50 like me- And she told me that
she had never died at all, but had been
waiting for me all these years, and God
had kept her young, and the baby was a
baby yet-only he would call me father %
and the word was ringing in my ears
when | woke.
1 thought of her while dressing, and I
went down stairs at last, the letter in my
breast-pocket sealed and directed to Har-
riet and was dreaming Of woman older
and fairer than she, when into my dream
stole voice and the sound of my own
name.
lis everything ready, Shirley, dear?''
l looked up. There were two people at
the little round table nearest mine-a lady,
quietly dressed, as if for travelling, in
black, without touch of color, and tall
straight, broad-shouldered STRIPPING, with
a young face and eyes like hers. knew
they were mother and son before he an
swered her.
Cali ready. The train starts in an
hour. You've got nothing at all to do,
Madame Mere. but to sit and read novel
or look out of the window till | call
yOu.''
And then they laughed together. She
had a girlish face-and yet it was a sOr-
rowful one, too. Her eyes were brown
1 looked into them, and all my youth
time looked back again; and | saw the
old house, in the old street in New Or
leans, and the face in the window, and
heard the baby hands patting on the
panes. Only two brown eyes and sweet
voice and a mans name spoken softly to
call up all that witchery?
She arose from the table almost that
minute.
q don't want the strawberries, Shirley
I'm going up to my room, and, il you
want to read novel, you must run out
and get me one. I've packed everything
and / want some light reading for the
cars"
Her dress was sweeping by my chair as
she spoke, and stirring my senses-fast
asleep so long-came a soft, violet scent
l was gong mad, | believe. AS if nc
woman but Edna Lecompte had ever used
that faint, subtle perfume!
I started up and strobe out of the din,
ing room, following those two, and saw
the mother 90 up the stair-case-a slight
daintily-moving little figure, with touch
of girlish grace in it still-while the son
passed on before me to the office of the
hotel He went and leaned over the desk
and spoke to the clerk, in his CHEEKY, fresh
voice; and I stood near him, turning the
leaves of the hotel register.
/" Mrs. Shirley Lecompte."
"Shirley Lecompte, New York city,
I turned and put my two hands on his
shoulders. [ could have taken him to my
heart and kissed the child likeness OF his
face, but did not say one word for min
ute, while he flashed his brown eyes on
me with half-angry little frown.
Are you Shirley Lecompte's son
Where-where is your father?"
MY father is dead. That was his
name" Looking straight into my face
And then dropped my hands.
q was your fathers friend, my boy.
i can see his looks in you; and your
mother. Will you take me toyour mother
Shirley"
Well, | have forgiven him-the man who
stole the sweetness out of life for me; he
is dead and buried, and Edna is alive
Twenty years ago forged letter told hel
that she was a widow, and the old mar