Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-08-27


am very well off In my present home. 4"
Yet II Is all wrOng,n replied the
Western man, In fatherly way he was
apt TO fall into toward any one to
whom he took fancy. "a man Of
OF his own. The mother will 20 TO
Heaven some day, and the sisters will
take unto themselves husbands, and
then, my man, you will bo left adrift. +"
Mr. Sturtevant fitted in and out of
" No. 6, third iloor," every day for a
week, assiduously cultivating the ac-
quaintance of Mr.. Bronson and "Per
T." as he persisted in.calling the fragile
little accountant, in the intervals of busi-
ness, Of sightseeing and of writing to
his wife this last being his favorite way
of filling in odd moments.
While driving with Mr.. Bronson late
one sultry July afternoon in Central
Park, he broke out abruptly, yet with a
tone of peculiar oarnestness, which the
younger man had learned TO understand
covered some deep feeling.
Your eyes need opening, friend
Bronson. Oh, not at all in regard to
your horsemanship; you hold the reins
IKE an expert. l beg your pardon, but
want TO speak TO you about your
confidential clerk. You look surprised
suppose | shall surprise you still more,
my dear fellow, when 1 tell you that she
is dying by inches there in that sitting
oilice, before your very eyes, and you
are so accustomed to her clear, white
rose Of face and her gentle ways that
you can't understand that any thing is
wrong with her. Why, man! even l,
with my broad chest and perfect health,
almost lose my breath every time run
up those stairs. She has faded and
wilted and lost vitality perceptibly in
the week that have been here. Her
lovely face grows more and more trans
parent every day. Now, Oliver Walker,
my confidential clerk, is wild to come to
New York. He's a cute, sharp fellow,
conscientious and industrious, and be-
ing so well acquainted with my business
ne would work into yours with little
dlthculty. Now l want to propose to
you that we change confidential clerks.
The fresh Western air will brace that
little woman right up. l know enough
OF woman-kind to know that it is a mat
ter of life and death with her. The
change, the journey, the meeting with
new people will renew her personality;
she won't know herself in a months
time. This great city broadens the
lives of those who are in constant attri-
ton with their kind, but is more CON
tracting than the most isolated country
life can be to a soul moving in a daily
rut. know she is valuable to you, but
when the flower willis utterly and falls
to the ground you will be obliged to
take some one to fill her place"
d" can't dispute your argument" F." re-
piled the young man, thoughtfully,
bringing his high-stepping horses down
to walk. al have no doubt she needs
rest and change. The place is a re-
sponsible one, and there is a great deal
put upon her, as there is apt to be upon
n person so efficient and obliging. 1
never saw her out of temper and never
heard her complain of WEAKNESS.
She has no relatives, and never seems
to care about taking vacation. She
could never be persuaded to leave us,n
he continued, presently, with confident
smile curling his tawny mustache. awe
will, however, for the sake of Justice,
submit the proposition to her. | have
no right to dismiss the subject until she
has been consulted. 1 think you are
needlessly y alarmed in regard to her
health, however. She has wonderful
powers Of endurance, although, it is true,
she has looked as fragile as that day
lily yOnder all the ten years she has been
with u.s."
"Ten yearsP"
"Ten years last autumn"
MIR. Sturtevant went back to his airy
room at the St. Nicholas, and wrote a
ong letter to his wife, although he had
already sent her postal card and a
.elegram that day. He used to say that
ais pent-up enthusiasm would explode,
lad he not the safety valve of writing to
Eliza always at hand.
The next morning Mr.. Sturtevant ap-
oeared at the Bronson Office just as the
I'D black porter was taking down the
shutters. He had not long to wait, how
,ver, and disclosed his plan to Miss
Clark while she was removing her sim
Die wrap and plain straw hat.
You say Mr.. Bronson is willing to |
make the eXchangeP" she queried, with |
| faltering voice, seating herself at her
lesk and mechanically breaking the seal
II the topmost letter of that mornings |
nail.
1" Yes, for your good, remember"
"I will 60"
That was all. Mr.. Sturtevant with a |
are knowledge of woman gained from
lis long and felicitous union with Eliza,
vent over to window and sat down to
ook at the morning papers, while she
,usied herself with the mails as usual;
'ut with a faint glow on her cheeks,
warming of an inward fire, like the re-
lection on the snowy petals of the
,leam in the chalice of a cactus cup.
In hour passed thus, and her employer
ntered, genial and gentlemanly as
Isual.
Mr.. Sturtevant threw aside his paper
nd said breezily:
1t is all settled, my dear Bronson.
his is Saturday. We start for Chicago
1onday, on the a. m. express.
Alone in her own little room, packing
er scanty possessions, she burst out
Utterly to herself.
"Oh the wretchedness and wrong of
hutting q young girl up In an office day
fter day with young man no way her
uperior except in the matter of money,
nd expecting her to look upon him as
1differently as upon the improved type
ritter at his elbow. Oh the cruelty
nd pity of it. have had my dreams.
will not call them foolish dreams; it
'as only the rose bush reaching toward
he trellis. Every girl has dreams, and
is right that she should have IT,
lakes no difference whether she be fill