Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1880-07-01

Saidee strove to smile; she took III
her worsteds and continued sorting
them, as if thus to begin disciplimn@
herself for the burdens of her new life
1t could not be otherwise, she thought
she could not break her promise to Aun
Ruth, she could not leave her now. And
as Wilfred willed she must submit
Amid her pain arose sudden, kee1
feeling of disappointment; it vanished
almost Immediately in a realization that
was born from it.
II am so glad" she said, softly, "that
l am not one OF those who think per.
feet object is necessary for loving; / dc
not think Il perfect object is test Of
love. I am not blind; Wilfred is very
tyrannical, selfish, very, very unkind,
but, but, as never till to-day have I fully
realized it, 50 never has he been so dear
to me-"
| This sterilization awoke tender resolve.
" can never let him go away SO;
must prove to him how dear he is and
must ever be to me-"
From this came the tender note that
found it way next morning to Wilfred
Hare:
L cannot let you go away, dear, with
out one little word. I know you are
angry with me, and I am very, very un-
happy, for never since our engagement,
have 7 loved you as to-day. Ny little
word is that must always, always love
you, and that I will never marry any
man but Wilfred Hare. Perhaps some
day you vii! understand and forgive me,
and then you will be glad to think Of
this"
Very sadly she dropped the tender
little note in the mail-box, very drearily
she went back the familiar road to her
home.
It seemed but yesterday that she had
walked here with Wilfred, SO happy and
confident. How sad and dark the road
seemed now !! So, absorbed was Saidee,
that she did not see the man walking
ahead, who suddenly turned and paused,
as if awaiting her. She started as she
drew closer and perceived him, her first
impulse was to fee; she shrank from the
sad face that she felt now was so like hers.
But it was too late. He had retraced
his steps to meet her and was now walk
ing at her side.
Saidee,' he said softly, "there are
not many days now. Do not send me
away from you.
He made no effort to cloak his tender
ness, either in word or look. He had
loved her from the happy time when, as
children, they had walked this road
together; she knew it, and it had once
been the great sorrow Of her life that
she could not return this love.
Despite the sting of his words, there
awoke in her heart pity for him, such
as she had never known Lefore; a wild,
regretful longing that she could not
have loved him; u sudden, strange
realization that she had wasted her affec-
ton, that this mans staunch, loyal heart
was worth hundred such as Wilfred
Hare's.
This last she battled quickly down,
not so the pity or the longing. Strange
ly moved, scarcely knowing what she did.
she placed her hand on his arm, and
answered, gently:
"There will be many, many days for
us to walk together, Mark p
He could but have presentment of
her meaning, SO sadly earnest was her
tone.
"What do you say, Saidee?" he asked,
with pity for her, and Joy he could not
repress mingling oddly in his look and
tone.
"That I am not going to be married,
Mark-that is, not yet awhile. Wilfred
is angry with me; but I must not tell
you'll do not know why I so forgot N.Y.
self. It is onl y that I am to stay with
Aunt Ruth for the present-that is all,
Mark. -
She truly said she did not know why;
she felt very traitress thus openly to
blame Wilfred Hare. She did not real
ize, poor Saidee! how pleasant Mark
Wales devotion had suddenly become to
her-how plain she was making this.
But he could not see. He walked on
beside her silently, little dreaming he
was aught to her to-day beyond what
he had been before. Never had Life
seemed so dreary to Mark Vale-not
even that black morning when he learn
ed she was to marry Wilfred Hare. Then
his unselfsh soul found solace in the
thought that she was happy; now he
stood In presence Of her misery-he, who,
had he. the power, would not have per-
mitted the winds to blow roughly on
~her-and could not save her its least
pang.
He understood Wilfred Hare better
than she; it would have been easier.
perhaps, to resign her to any other man.
1t was not strange, that in this hour.
realizing his own loyalty and tenderness.
he should rail at Justice and the veriest
Of myths. .~~.---,-.. 49, = ~
The days passed slowly, dreari!y, to
Saidee; with each, her love for Wilfred
Hare growing deeper, her grief sharper
more uncomfortable.
''Come what will, no power on earth
shall separate me from your
Morn, noon and night these words
came back to her, and with them hope
to feed upon. Surely all would be right,
she thought. He could not give her up:
he was only angry with her; he would
come to understand and forgive her, and
then all would be well again.
These were uneventful days, till, one
morning, the news was brought to Saidee
that Aunt Ruth could not i've; that. con con
trary to- expectation, the peculiar ,trou-
bless thm had RESULTS from her injuries
were developing fatally. Her gentle
heart smote her, for often, often, this lat
ter time, she had regretted her promise;
IN her anguish, wished she had broken it.
"A while remorse banished all else from
her thoughts; but love is mighty king,
and poor Aunt Ruth had not been long
under the sodere it regained the mastery.
7 He would surely write, now that Aunt
Ruth was dead; he would surely under
setHu. 90 As@2.s s.tz.s,,a s,s,tas4 I' =
So she was musing one twilight, when
there came a knock at the door, and a
letter was handed into her. At Che sight
of the familiar writing she could not re-
press rapturous cry, despite the pres
enee of the new servant, who knew moth
ing of Wilfred Hare; her trembling fingers