Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1877-06-06

it up in the storehouse of her heart. It
was given, received, returned, and by
whom? By his daughter whilom sutton
by the man whose sweet-whispered words
had won his daughters love. The facts
dawning upon him suddenly, as they did;
were too much for the old man to bear;
they completely unnerved him; SO, will
ing his all to broken-hearted Elvie, Mr..
Keller laid him down to die. Without
one word of reproach or complaint of any
sort, he passed away, that still, hot mid
summer midday.
Only his daughter stayed at Oaklands
Alice, very lovely in her widows mourn
ing, went to her mothers. The old
house, she said, had too many painful
memories; she must go; her health needed
it; SO she went. But all the persuasion
and entreaty in the world could not in
duce Elvie to accompany him.
"No, mamma" she said, in answer to
Mrs. Keller's prayer that she would come
away from that dreadful, dismal place
"no mamma, [ am better here; / like
Oaklands, and [ never desire to leave it
again SO long as [ live"
So, all endeavors unavailing, Alice
went, and her daughter staid.
After Mr.. Keller's death, it was dis
covered that the most of his property was
so heavily mortgaged as to be irrecover-
able; only Oaklands remained intact; but
her mother provided for, Elvie was as
well content as she would have been if
heiress to an immense fortune. Her
tastes were luxurious but quietly so;
therefore she had quite sufficient to
crafty them. Her mode of life for two
years to come, at least, could be but one
of the strictest retirements; hence she
made up her mind to stay on at the old
place that had known her from her child
hood up, had witnessed her happiness and
it's going, her love and it's loss. A trihe
paler, great deal quieter, with look of
determination in her violet eyes they had
never known before Elvie lived on, her
quiet, monotonous life unbroken save by
her mothers letters and an occasional
visitor.
Thus the first twelve months of her
mourning passed, when one day she re-
ceived the usual weekly epistle from her
mother, but not with its usual contents
of current news, advice, and wishes that
she would leave that dull, stupid place.
Oh, no; this was only note, and ran as
follows:-
My DARLING ELvIE No doubt what |
am about to write will surprise you greatly
in one respect-its suddenness-butI Judge,
long ere this, you must have described how
much Louis de Brusle and | are to each
other. We are to be married ON the eleventh
of next month, very privately, of course, and
Ill >n., Il
! gently, my daughter, and come to me in my
JOY as you have ever shared my happiness.
Do not refuse the one request OF your loving
mother ALICE KELLER.
The tiny perfumed sheet fell from
Elvie's hand to the floor and long she
sat thinking and struggling with herself
At last she picked it up; and hardly
pausing for another thought, wrote an
affirmative answer to her glowing moth
ers one request
The wedding was over. The bride and
groom had departed for the Continent
Elvie Keller stood alone in the world
alone with her misery and her pride, with
nothing in her life but this one prayer
for revenge; that he might suffer even as
she suffered, was the daily food she lived
upon; that his soul and spirit might be
riven and stricken as hers had been, was
her only wish.
" If saw him there at my feet" she
murmured, "praying me for my love, /
would hold it back. I would refuse,
although it would be heaven to give"
This feeling had not taken possession
of her until she saw him Oh his marriage
day, 50 glowing and happy in the
thought of his possession, while she whom
he had sought and taught to love him
stood motionless, forsaken, and forgotten
at his side. He the victim of wild de-
fusion, passing fascination-the victim
at the altar of his fancy.
Two years fed swiftly by. Elvie had
now and then received long, descriptive
foreign letters; but gradually these grew
rarer and rarer, until finally there was
none for three whole months Then
there came a black-bordered, black
sealed, mountaineering missive in her
step-father's handwriting.
Elvie tore it open, to learn what she
already half-dreaded her mothers
death. Sudden, and unlooked-for, the
dark, relentless angel had borne her
away before time had touched or dulled
the brightness of her beauty, or her hus-
bands love. This letter was merely a
detailed account of the sad event, offer
ing consolation, but never word of de-
spair or regret. To the letter there was
added a postscript: Elvie, I am coming
to you. Expect me soon.'
The girls eyes fairly glittered in glad
surprise.
CAT last, at last, he does suffer; but
not a 1.-THE, not a shadow of suffering like
mine and he is coming to me. Oh, Louis,
Louis, if [ did not love you SO, could
be more generous!
x x X X x
"Elvio, I have come home back to
youp'
" You are welcome to Oaklands, sir, as
you ever have been.'
Courteous and calm was the welcome.
He looked surprised at her, as though he
had expected some grand outburst. But
/ few words passed between them on the
subject of his wife's death She did
moi ,,roo ~. no ,,rola i,Iyr fro,,, l,;, Joo,,