The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1875-10-29
T MANY YEARS.

trees in the lovelieSt corner of the
square. | had no other words, and she
did not need any.
"The old story" looking up at me,
just a glance that showed her pretty
eyes had been crying. "I'm-l'm here,
Shirley"
Do you guess what those three words
meant? That Edna Verdery, before
the first star looked out of the opal sky
up above us, would be my wife.
1t was the old story, you see-a pen
| niless lover, a true-hearted little woman
clinging to her faith, and IA parental
curse impending over both our heads.
l drew her hand tight through my
arm, and we walked very quietly, for
she was tired, and the little hand
trembled against my side. She only
told mt that she was not afraid, that
she loved me, and she would be glad to
rest when it was all over and we two
safe and far away together. And SO we
went on ana were married.
Then | took home my wife. 1t was a
| poor home, but she was not afraid to
sweeten it with herself, and she had
said that she was glad to come. She
never spoke of her father and mother,
and never seemed to miss them or re-
greet what she had lost in them. | never
should have known that was u grief to
her, but for n day. She met me when
| came home at night, with her face all
sparkling and her voice unsteady with
excitement, and even before she kissed
me cried out:
I've seer my mOther!'
"Your mother? Has she been here?:"
| asked.
"Yes. Only think how glad I was
how surprised! She came and she kiss
ed me, and forgave me-" putting her
around my neck and beginning to
cry in her gladneSS, "and forgave YOU,
too; and she said she couldn't live and
lose her only daughter. Oh, Shirley,
it was the only thing more that l want
ed on earth! I'm so happy, darling!"
"And your fathcr:?"
ale couldn't be rs kind rs she was"
said my little wife, with her cheek Or
mine. Feathers never are; but she
thought-she was sure, she said-that
bnrI f,rr;yn - oil ,,I +bo, III, J,,-,I
me just as much all the time, and it
would be all righta It last, Shirley. Oh,
aren't YOU happy, too? Look glad! Tell
me you're glad, dear; you don't know
howl wanted it,
| was glad, for her sake. God knows;
for my own, | would never have cared
to look on their faces again.
But all that was changed now. Mrs.
Nerdcry's carriage ratified, day after
day, down the little dull street and stood
at Mrs. Lecompte's door, and Edna Lee
compte wa pardoned and petted, and
caressed as if Edna Nerdery had never
disobeycd. And then we were asked to
dine "at home," she and [; and the old
greeted lis both kindly and kissed
his daughter with two tears in his cold
eyes, and seemed to bury our old en-
nifty as he shook my hand; and after
that night it was all sunshine between
us.
But | never ceased to feel an odd
chill in my heart like a prophecy of
something bitter coming between us.
it was because instead of grow
ing richer since | married 4 wife, | only
grew poorer, and the world outside our
little room got dark and threatening over
head and seemed only Il cold place for
my unborn child to inherit.
He came to test its tender mercies
just with the early winter, and, as he
came, Edna was very nigh going out
forever. She was a delicate little thing
and needed so much petting and nurs-
ing and tender care, my heart ached as
many a poor mans has done before me,
when | looked in the white little face
that had been SO rosy when l first took
her from her home. And instead of
growing stronger, she only dropped
more, like a flower in the first frost;
and the child was as pale as she.
There was Il season of business losses |
and heavy failures; firm after firm gave
way and men went home idle, and my
turn came with the rest. And | knelt
down by my wife's bed, looked into her
eyes, and told her and asked her to for
give me for the wrong L had done in
her.