Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1875-12-15

81 don't know about it, only that
mamma said there might be an opening
for you, and il would be much better
than your old place, and papa would
use his influence tor you. Will you go,
Shirley?"
eyes, WILL" said, STOPPING down
to kiss her.
Something was dragging me back all
the while-holding me fast to the bed
side, within touch of her little hot hand,
and hearing of my baby's sleepy-soft
breath-but l didn't heed it. l was
desperate, and her eyes drove me cut
into the world. to struggle with it, and
win for her sake-and | went.
SO the end of it was tina; letters went
back ard forth, and in two weeks from
the day that | was discharged from my
clerkship, | was engaged by the New
York house, of which Mr.. Vedery's
brother was head. at a salary that would
| keep Edna safe all the winter. Only
it was a desperate mans undertaking,
| you know-she must be in New Or
leans, while l was in New York.
A winter at the north, they said,
would Kill her, and | must not dream
of taking her away until she was thor
oughly well again.
This was the way it happened. They
were so glad to take her back-they had
forgiven" her so entirely and wanted
her so, and they were so fond of little
| Shirley, l ought to have been willing
and glad TO leave them both i'm such
tender care. l was neither; but knew
it was my duty to give her up, and did
it. | kissed her goodbye at the last,
and dragged myself away from her arms
that tried to hold me back even then,
and the last glimpse | had of wife or
child was little, slender figure at an
open window, half buried i'm white, soft
wrappings, holding up a baby, who
laughed and sprang in her arms, and
whose little hand she tried to wave to
me.
Then came the lonely winter at the
nOrth-the silent starvation of my heart
through nights and days, the longing
impatience, hope. 1t only lasted a little
while. | knew / should have her i'm the
spring, in a home of our own L had
planned already.
Ii was in March when her letters,
which had come faithfully all winter on
their stated days, failed suddenly. A
week went by without message from
New Orleans; and when it came at last
it was written in another hand.
1t was a long letter, but L never read
it through. | only read three lines; !;
that told me she was dead, that my baby
was buried in her arms. The yellow
fever had broken out i'm the city, and
my two were among the first to go. Her
parents had left New Orleans, and be-
fore their letter reached me would have
sailed for England.
SO never saw the little, white wrap
ped figure and the laughing baby any
more.
| never saw either of their parents
again.
1t was better for us all, Mr.. Nedery
had said that the intercourse should
cease with Edna's and the child's death /;
and, God knows, l felt so, too.
So lived on in New York alone, and
rose i'm the firm, travelled, and made
money: and wandered from city to city
at last, successful i'm everything that
touched. without trouble or anxiety i'm
life-only the burden of my empty
heart. i was thirty years old when my
darlings died; / had plenty more years
to live, and death was still long way
off. People called me a young man
still, after my hair was very gray, and
L seemed to have grown old and tired
down to my hearts core. And the
years went by wearily; and | was forty
eight, aud my hair white.
1t was at Fleming's house that / met
Harriet Stanhope. She was cousin of
! his wife's and an attractive woman-not
a girl-the sort of woman whom every
one calls Interesting; clever, and culti-
waited to the utmost, sweet natured, and
adapted and good, with even more than
a wOman's share of tact.
had not known her very long before
could talk to her of the story that she
. knew already, and tell her about the
day when | looked back and saw the
little figure in the window holding up
my child for me to see.
; ''Well, you have guessed already,
suppose. 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 great
shock. that this woman cared for me.
! And | began to think of the possibility
of her taking-in mems eyes, at least,
and to outward dseeming-Edna's empty
place.
She was lonely, too, rs | was, with no
near relatives. no home, and a sorrowiul
outlook before her. l never could bear
the sight of solitary and uncared-for
woman, and this woman touched all my
pity and sympathy. L gave her .na'
: and my irienushlp mos, ireel! anu s.,,,
cerely, ana tiat was All. b't oeSa.i
. TO think that even without love ne
might be sweetened iit.ie, anu 80
said TO myself that Woulu iiarry her'
. did not resolve hastily. l had
. known her for two years before hau
t thought of it at all, and then it was long
f before the idea took a definite shape. !
| was travelling in the West, and one OF
the letters which reached me at large
town in Ohio, decided the last doubt
that was in my mind. read it twice,
: and then walked the floor all night, and