Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1880-08-04

iiaAinS tne purchase OF some little trifle in
the village an excuse for a SOLITARY
hour
For while she battled with her hate for
annie knowing her to have none but
friendly feelings to herself, Tut it over.
powered her at last.
If that little thing were dead, +" she said
lshould have Wilford for my own-I should
DE the lady ofthe ePark-henored, admired.
beloved. Now l walk here alone. Will,
she fills my place. If she would bu,
die.''
linen, suddenly-surely,S Satan was whis
perlng In her ears-she remembered tha,
she had heard of drug, which, though an
almost instantaneous poison, left little trac,
anu was tasteless. For a moment she trem
Died and flung the suggestion from her: but
Satan is strong. There was a drug stor,
IN the village, and the proprietor had left {
young, emptypated clerk in charge.
The poison which would not have been
sold by the Older man to any stranger with
out docter's prescription, was dealt Out
without thought by this boy, and Ener
went home with the tiny package hidden
in her bosom.
Annie was watching for her coming
from the veranda. She came forward to
meet her guest with sweet smile.
''The others have had lunch," said she,
''but i waited for you. l have had our
little table set in the bow-window, with
the view of the river. We shall have sucl
cosy time.''
Then she led the way to the dining room,
and tossing her hat and mantle on a sofa
the young hostess poured the coffee anC
handed cup to her guest, taking one for
herself. At that moment some one called
! from the hall:
''Ceme, both of yon; something tc
see."
1t was only great pleasure barge
going up the river with picnic party.
Ever ready for anything amusing in those
idle hours, the household always made a
gay pretence of deep interest in these par
/ ties.
Annie left the little room. Ellen delayed
a minute before she followed. In that lit
| tie space of time she had emptied the poi
son into poor Annie's cup OF coffee, and
thrust the crumpled paper that had held it
/ back into her bosom
Annie returned first. As she seated her
self, she happened TO notice that the cup
she had passed to Ellen was over-filled. 1t
looked untidy, neither had yet been tasted,
and with the natural impulse of a careful
hostess, Annie changed the cups.
/ Little dId she guess what she was doing.
She only desired to set before her guest that
which was neatest And little did Ellen
know what had happened in that brief in
stant.
She looked to see her rival turn pale
She watched for some token that the poi
son had begun its work. Instead she her
self felt strange faintness creeping over
her, was conscious of sudden agony. 1t
was brief. The fate she had decreed for
the innocent young wife was to be her own,
and it came to swiftly too leave much time
| for thought.
! Before the man who had ridden fast and
furiously across the country to find the
nearest doctor, had performed his errand.
all was over,
DYING, Ellen Harland understood only
that in some way Providence had outwit-
ted her.
''Pray for me-" she whispered to Annie.
II dare not pray for myself.
And with her hands held fast between
Annie's, with Annie's tears falling fast up
on her pillow, Ellen died
They found the crumpled paper with
''poison" written on it, in her bosom. The
coroner's jury gave verdict of suicide,
and remOrse filed Wilford Dumont's
heart-for he believed that Ellen Harland
had killed herself because she could not
i've without him.
In his trouble he made a sort of con-
fession to his wife. No man ever made
| full and true one under such circumstances.
What Annie gathered from it was, that
her own attractions Lad made him forget
those of Ellen Harland, and that the poor
girl could not endure the sight of their mu-
tual tenderness: and so to this day she be-
lieves, and often goes with her husband to
the church-yard where Ellen lies, and with
her own fair hands plant iewe rs upon the
grave of the woman who would fain have
done her to death that she might win for
her own the husband who, though not as
true and perfect as Annie believes him, now
loves her very fondly; loves her, though
he remembers, with a pang, the passionate
creature who, as he fancies, died for love
of him.
In this world the truth will never be
known. and it is better that it should De