The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-05-11

eyes full of tears.
"You refuse me, Mildred?' said he
Il should be villain to take advantage
of my position and urge you. Yet il
my heart I believe could make yor
happy. What would you have bu
youth that / could notgive you? There
are many chances against your ever be
ing offered again strong, honest, undi
vided heart like mine No young mar
could love as / do, Mildred, what you
might be to me!'
The strange tone of passionate earnest
ness made my heart beat quickly.
glanced at my father. He was watching
me with intense anxiety. No need to
question what his wishes were AS fOl
the meaning of this strange scene,
wanted no details; enough that some
momentary crisis had come that threat
ened disgrace and ruin, | could avert
it, and how? By marrying one whose
affection might have gratified the most
ambitious heart; one of the noblest of
men; one / loved, though perhaps not as
he loved me. In that hour of excite
ment, and in my undisciplined mind,
little was | prepared to weigh remote
possibilities and contingencies Besides,
was ardent, excitable, apt to mistake
impulse for sentiment. Mildred, what
you might be to mep' wrought upon my
sensibility; his expression of subdued
emotion still further moved me- 1t new
er occurred to me to demand time for ex-
PLANTATION and reflection. | felt con-
strained to answer him then and there.
eff | were less child" l said, blush
ing and trembling, " if were more your
equal" 1t was enough, he drew near
me and clasped me in his arms. "Child!"
he said, passionately, "my love-my
wife," Then releasing me and gazing at
me seriously: "You give yourself to me
willingly, Mildred, but l will not bind
you. Six months hence [ will give you
back your freedom if you are not hap
ply, and you will find it hard to deceive
a love like mine"
My father rose and grasped his hand in
silence. GOOD bless youp' he said at
length; 81 would have borne much to
secure such protector for my child.
Leave us, Mildred, to arrange some mat
tiers that cannot be delayed even till the
morning" | was eager to obey and be
| alone to think, and left the room with
out backward glance
That half hour had revolutionized my
whole being. | was child no longer. /
fastened my bedroom door to give way
to all the tumultuoas emotions of a
woman. Sued for wife! engaged |
looked at myself in the glass, and Won
dered that a man like Mr. Lacy could
love such young, uniformed creature as
| appeared. There was an incongruity
in it that affected me painfully. Still
there was a distinction in his regard that
dattered me. | had very high esteem
for him. | was warding off a calamity
from my father. [ loved no one else I;
no doubt | should be very happy. l sat
down on the edge of the bed and leaned
my head upon my hand. Uunaccus-
toned to dream, at that moment an in
voluntary dream rose before my imagi-
nation. Instead of this strange compact,
the wooing of youthful lover; instead
of mere consent on my part. the delicious
active passion. Might | not have been
thus? If beauty won love, l was fair
enough; if freshness and strength of
heart were needed, how mine throbbed
under the ideal bliss! The sound of Mr..
Lacy's voice recalled me to a sense of
my duty to him; it was wrong to dream
of such girlish possibilities now.
He was going away, and my father had
accompanied him to the head of the
stairway. | supposed he had asked him
if he would not wish to bid me good
night, for | heard him answer: mo;
she would not wish to be disturbed; /
fear to weary her. God forgive me if /
am acting selfish part" [ rose up res
olutely; no more such weakness as that
of the last hour; he was worthy of
woman's love and honor, and | will give
it. The next two months passed in a
state of tranquil happiness. If manly
devotion, if the most delicate and minnie
attentions could win heart, mine would
have been won, and l thought it was,
and reposed on the idea.
Mr.. Lacy made no attempt to prevent
my plunge into the gay world, postponed
for while by the late strange accidents
Now and then he would go with me to a
ball or opera, but it was in the character
of protector or inspector, not as partici-
pant, and l Felt his presence a restraint
| was by no means coquette; | strove
to bear always in mind that | was his af-
famed wife; but | was only eighteen,
ardent IN temperament, with high ami
NAL spirits, very much courted and adj
mired, and I did not enter with much
zest into the pleasures of life. His
grave smile, in the height of my enjoy
ment, used to fall like weight on my
heart.
He himself, holding an important and
influential position in the world, was
full of earnest schemes of practical be-
nevolence, of professional reform. He
seemed to think, labor, and write mainly
with an eye to other mems interests, and
those in their highest and widest bear
ings He liked to talk to me of tt csc
things and excite my moral enthusiasm,
and while | listened he carried heart
and conviction with him, and | felt
call to such cooperation an honor in
which sacrifice could have no part.
Then his look of intense affection and
happiness, as he kissed the cheek to
which his words had brought so deep a
glow, stirred my soul and left no doubt
on my mind that | loved him.
At the end of two months Mr.. Lacy
left me TO attend a summons to his fa-
theirs death-bed. He felt no fears as to
the result of this separation, though |
perceived deep secret anxiety. l
shared it. | had morbid dread of the
effect of this absence.
Don't leave mel" / cried, clinging
weeping to his arm. ~ am afraid of
of becoming unworthy of
you"
Chow, Mildred?" was his answer.
90 If you mean you will forget me, or
discover you are mistaken in thinking
YOU love me. it will save us both a life |