The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1880-12-07
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION.

sho AoAA'oA GLASS was 1bapel WllQ, VINO, ner
pride quickly up In arms, loudly de-
clared ahe would never marry a mau upon
whose name even shadow Of doubt had
ever rested.
Two hours later gentleman called to
see her.
he was a fine looking man, this George
halliday, with black eyes, beard, and hair,
with complexion as fair as Isabel's own.
AND yet, after ono had pronounced him
handsome, they would steal second look,
and decide that there was something hid. .
den under this manly exterior that was
evil, unprincipled.
He seemed to be we'll of and although
comparatively stranger, was known to,
aud aquainted with, every family of i'm
portance In tho town.
Isabel Wild had attracted his attentions
months before. and when she had noticed
his admiration had sncered.
81 marry George Halliday7 Never,
while such mai as LOUIS Merrivale
lives"
But now, after Mr.. Halliday hal come
into the fortune lett him, aud the decora.
lions OF his new mansion were being com.
pleled; now, when her lover had clouded
his reputation for ever, Isabel listen ed to
from her house that morning, and she has
tened to Mlllie Thorne's, she wore q gilt.
tcring diamond ring that had been placed
there as seal of their betrothal.
lncensed and inf1amed by Miles enthus-
iasm, Isabel returned to her own home
thoroughly satisfied that Millie Thore still
loved Louis Mcrrivalc, despite her faith
lcssncss, despite his mysterious conduct.
MI
SAID he needed friend IN this dark hour"
pale, haggared tinge was on her face
as she assembled the steps of her residence,
telling of the struggle within. .
but the blur-the stain Can I ever
bear name that has been sung through
the country, and published in no honorable
way In the papers2 Can bear it, and the
cold taunts it will bring me, for loves
sake? Can l endure it for his sake"
She paced the floor in her restless indeci-
sion.
'George Halliday Is rich; l shall be
mistress of his splendid house, envied by.
half the women IN town, and above all,
shall bear name pure and unsnllied."
The cleaning of the diamonds in their
shining splendor caught her eye, and on
the tritling delight they occasioned she
based her decislop-a choice she learned to
bitterly regret.
"From henccforth 1 shall give to Louis
Merrivale no thought, if | can help it.
shall regard myself as belonging to my
aff1anccd husband, and let Mildred Thorne
scorn or reprove as she will. Perhaps she
will turn comforter in chief to her faithless
lover"
A bitter, bitter heart pang-one vearn-
ing longing for her loved one, then it died
or rather, i'll moment. Isabel Wild burned
alive the love Of her life.
Day after day passed by. bringing their
share OF joys and heart -achings, and still
Louis Alcrri7ale never came; the affair had
ceased TO be a seven days wonder, and
people had forgotten about it, save when
they saw his aged mother, bowed and in
firm, leaning Oh Millic Thorne's strong
young arm, as they walked through the
streets of Croydon.
Millic had grown more beautiful during
these weeks of trial; and the aged mother
OF the missing young man had many an
occasion to bless the loving, trusting girl.
The days wore on, bringing to Alillie, in
her patient waiting and hoping against
hope, to Isabel, In her overwhelming pride,
the glad autumnal days. TO one it brought
q bridal, and George Halliday took his wife
to their handsome home.
The setting October sun was hinging its
rosy banner over the brown woodland,
when Alilllo Thornc entered the house
where her tender ministrations had made
her an angel Of sympathy.
Mrs. Merrivale met her halfway to the
door, her eyes streaming with tears, her
face all alight with an overpowering JOY.
''Milhc-oh, Millie my prayers are ans
wcred! God has been 80 mcrciful to me,
and to you, my AIillie: See, it's from
h,na!"
She handed q letter from her bosom to
Milllc, who, in a tremor of agitation, had
gained the door, and was leaning against
the wall, unable for moment to speak.
''Comc in, child, and let us thank God
together! Come, Mlllie, while l tell you
my boy Is alive, is we'll, and-oh, Millie,
didn't we say t9-is lnnoceent!"
Millie neither spoke nor moved; she
neither laughed nor cried. She only MUIR
INJURED a wordless prayer in her heart.
LET me tell you, my dear child, all
about 1t, and then lot mo tell you the mes
sage he sent to YOU"
ga message to mc2 Tell mo, what is
it2" said Millie, eagerly.
'He has written 1t to you on a slip of
paper, and in his letter tells me to read it.
and then give 1t to you. Isn't that just my
Louis over again2"
She handed Millio the precious treasure,
who read, with greedy eyes: III
''roday, for the first time since my re-
covcry-lve been near unto the stream of
death, Millie-I am able to write; first to
my mother, then to the only woman in the
W rid besides that care for-to you, Miile
'Thornc To-day have given up Isabel
Wild, because love you, because / have
always loved you; because care nothing
for her, or she for mo. know all, Millic,
my precious, patient darlingl have
startling neWs when como back and
then, when I am roinsteted in the public
confidence, even though break proud
heart, and uncover foul one in the act,
you will be mine, nine, my own Millic2'
cat last-oh, mother, at lastl" OK
claimed the overjoycd M1illic.
''Shall l read you his letter, or shall I
tell yOu} Or will Won raod IT, MilIin 2D