The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1878-11-14

she left me ~
LEFT you!"
81 came home one afternoon, after
conducting an intricate criminal case,
and found note on my table, telling
me Myra could no longer endure the
life OfcOnstant quarreling and reproach.
She had taken her child, and would
never return to me-"
"Did she not go to relatives?"
"She had 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 | went, but who denied all
knowledge of her. After searching
with the eagerness Of penitence deep
aud sincere and love most profound, |
finally advertised, and even employed
private police investigation. 1t was all
in vain. never found wife or child"
"Yet you think they live?"
81 cannot tell. | remained here for
five years, and then, as yon know, went
to see my only sister, dying of consump-
tiOn."
"And to become my second father"
eyes, my boy. found you, my lit
tie namesake, a sobbing boy of twelve,
heartbroken over your mothers illness
and death. You know the rest of my
life-hlstory. 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 |
loved you, Hilton, as dearly as ! loved
my baby-daughter, whose childhood is
a closed, sealed book to me-"
"But now, Uncle George-can moth
ing be done now?"
1--WE have been here three years, and
every month there has been an adver-
tisement only Myra would understand
in the leading papers. ! have never
had one line of answer. No, my boy,
it is hopeless now! If in the future
you ever know of my wife or child, |
trust her to your care and generosity"
1t seemed as if, in the excitement Of
his recital, Mr.. Hilton had forgotten
the conversation that had Immediately
suggested it. He rose from his seat,
and opening a cabinet in the room,
brought back a small box. 1t contained
a bracelet of hair with an inexpensive
clasp, and locket.
"When we were in Paris" he said,
81 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. 1t must have been some
lingering love that made Myra still keep
the bracelet like this which she wore
constantly. What is the matter, Hill
ton? You are as white as DEATH"
"Nothing. Is your wife's picture in
the locket?"
eyes. You see how beautiful she
was"
81 see more than that !" said Hilton
'and yet dare NOT tell you what l hope.
VIII you give one little hour to see if
"If what?"
"Only one hour--I will be back then ~
"Stop!" Mr.. Hilton cried, shaking
with excitement. But his nephew was
gone. Hoping, fearing, not knowing
what to hope or fear, Mr.. Hilton watch
ed the clock till the hour should be over.
He walked up and down, he tried to
read, he lived oyer and again that past,
whose remorseless memories had been
so vividly recalled. With Myra's pic
ture before him, he thought again of
the wild, fierce love that had been his
curse,
"Why was not calm, reasonable, as
became my years and position" he
asked himself, bitterly. "Why did |
give boys love to a woman who had
lived in society, and respected all its re-
quirementsP l lived an idle life
Myra the actual one around us. Where
is HiltonP What can he know9 What
has he discovered? Only thirty min
utes gone, 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 he waited, leaving
the door little open.
"Where have you beenH" Mr.. Hilton
asked.
"To procure this" Hilton answered,
gravely, placing in his uncle's hand tn
duplicate of the bracelet 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 wee coil of baby curl ,
under the glass; the same lettering, tool
-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 sacred emotion.
AT last, lifting his head, George Hilton
asked, "Does Myra liver Can she
forgive meH"
"It is years since she died." Hilton
answered, "but surely, in heaven she
has forgiven you'll She never of you to
your child but in words of respect and
affection, though she always spoke of
you as dead"
my child! You know my childP"
81 know and love her. Did you not
guess, Uncle George, where saw that
bracelet whose duplicate l recognized
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