New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1878-11-20

found note upon my table, telling me
Myra could no longer endure the life of
constant quarrel!ing and reproach. She
had taken her child. and would never re-
turn to me.''
sDid she not go to relatives?:'
She lad but few. Her father died
while we were abroad, and having been
considered rich man, was found to have
left less than his funeral expenses. She
had an aunt and some cousins, to all of
whom l went, but who denied all
knowledge of her. After searching with
the eagerness of penitence deep and
sincere, and love most profound, finally
advertised. and even employed private
police investigation. It was all in vain.
I never found wife or child"
yet you think they live2'
Il cannot tell. remained here for five
years and then, you know, went to see my
only sister, dying of consumption"
'And to become my second father"
eyes, my boy. I found you, my little
namesake, a sobbing boy oftwelve, heart
broken over your mothers illness and
death. You know the rest of my life
history. retired from the pursuit of my
profession, travelled with you, made you
my one interest IN life. You filled my
empty house and heart, for I loved you,
Hilton, as dearly as I loved my baby
daughter whose childhood is a closed,
sealed book to me-"
! "But, Uncle George, can nothing be
done now?"
"We have been in London three years,
and every month there has been an adver-
tisement only Myra would understand in
one line Of answer. No.. my boy, it is
hopeless now! If in the future yol ever
know of my wife or child, I trust them
to your care and generosity"
It seemed as if, in the excitement of his
recital, Mr. Hilton had forgotten the con.
versation that had immediately suggest
ed it. He rose from his seat, and open
ing cabinet in the room, brought back
small box. It contained a bracelet of
hair with an inexpensive clasp, and a
locket.
"When we were in Paris" he said, "I
had this bracelet made Of Myra's hair
and mine woven together; she has the
companion one. This tiny coil Of gold
in the clasp was cut from the baby's head,
our little darling, then but three months
old. It must have been some lingering
love that made Myra still keep the brace
let like this which she wore constantly.
What IS the matter, Hilton2 You are as
white as DEATH"
Nothing Is your wife's picture in
the locket?"
Eyes. You see how beautiful she was"
Il see more than that said Hilton
sand yet dare not tell you what I hope.
Will you give me one little hour to see
if"
IF what?"
"Only one hour-I will be back then"
"Stopp' Mr.. Hilton cried, shaking with
excitement. But his nephew was gone.
Hoping, fearing, not knowing what to
hope or fear, Mr.. Hilton watched the
clock till the hour should be over. He
walked up and down, he tried to read, he
lived over again that past whose remorse-
full memories had been so wildly recalled.
With Myra's picture before him, he
thought again of that wild, fierce love
that had been his happiness and his
blight.
why WAS not calm. reasonable as
became my years and position2' he ask
ed himself, bitterly. "Why did give a
boys love to woman who had lived in
society, and respected all its require
ments? lived an ideal life-Myra the
actual one around us. Where is Hilton?
What can he know? What has he dis
covered? Only three minutes gene, and
it seems day since he was here"
But even before the hour was over
Hilton returned. In his eagerness to
question him, Mr.. Hilton did not notice
that he came through the drawing room
to the library where ne waited, leaving
the door little open.
Where have you been?" Mr.. Hilton
asked.
ITO procure this" Hilton answered,
grayely, placing in his uncle's hand the
duplicate of the barcelet upon the table.
The same braid of sunny brown hair,
with here and there some of raven black
streaked with gray; the same small clasp
with a wee coil Of baby curl under the
glass; the same lettering, too-Myra and
George twined together with fantastic
scrolls and twists.
For several moments there was deep
silence. The old man could not speak.
and the young one would not break in
upon what he felt to be q sacred emotion
At last, lifting his head, George Hilton
asked.
Does Myra livee Can she forgive
met"
st is years since she died." Hilton an
swered, ''but, surely, in heaven she has
forgiven you. She never spoke OF you to
your child but in words of respect aud
affection, though she always spoke of
you as dead