The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1880-07-10

thrown from her carriage and received
injuries which, though it was not be
lieved they would prove fatal, left her in
a very critical and apprehensive state,
True, the wedding dav was named and
Wllfred must go; true. there were loving
hearts beside Saidee to care for poor
Aunt Ruth, but it seemed to her tender
nature most crime to leave her, at
least, until danger was positively past.
ANA when, one morning, the old lady
drew down the fair face to hers, and
whispered, lmploringly, "You will not
leave me, pet, while there is a doubt of
my getting well?" she promised unhesi-
tatlngl y that she would not
Perhaps if she had known Wilfred
Hare better, she could not have promised
so readily. But she knew him only as
Z the tender lover, the man who had sworn
that, come what would, no power on
earth should ever separate him from her
1t could be easily settled, she thought;
he, as she, would feel very sad and dis
appointed, but he, as she, must see the
lmposslbility of her going now. They
could be married, and. as soon as
Aunt Ruth was decided out of danger,
she would go to him.
All this In full trust and faith she CON
fided to Wilfred Hare She was i'll pre-
pared for the reception her words met,
the imperious workings of this mans
will What right had she, without con
, sultlng him even, to make promise to
/ any one that contlicted with her own to
/ him? His love gave him the right to
command her; if she loved him she
would obey. She must marry him and
go away with him, else their present re-
lations must cease.
III vain she pleaded her promise, her
tender affection for Ruth; he would
yield nothing to an old woman's within.
SO he remained imperious, persistent
she troubled, yet hopeful, thinking that
finally he must yield, neither believing
that separation was possible when the
testing time should come.
Saidee strOve to smile; she took up
her worsteds and continued sorting
them, as if thus to begin disciplining
herself for the burdens of her new life
1t could not be otherwise, she thought
she could not break her promise to Aunt
Ruth, she could not leave her now. And
as Wilfred willed she must submit.
Amid her pain arose a sudden, keen
feeling of disappointment; it vanished
almost Immediately in a realization that
was born from it,
Il am so glad, she said, softly, "that
| am not one of those who think a per-
feet object is necessary for loving; do
not think a perfect object is test of
love [ am not blind; Wilfred is very
tyrannlcal, selfish, very, very unkind,
but, but, as never till to-day have | fully
realized it, SO never has he been 50 dear
to me.
This realization awOke tender resolve
q 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:
" | cannot let you go away, dear, with
out one little word | know you are
angry with me, and i am very, very I'M
happy, for never since our engagement,
have / loved you as to-day. My little
word is that | must always, always love
you, and that | will never marry any
man but Wilfred Hare. Perhaps some
day you will understand and forgive me,
and then you will be glad to think of
this. -
Very sadly she dropped the tender
little note III the mail-box, very drearily
she went back the familiar road to her
home.
1t 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 flee; 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 a pity for him, such
dis Sllt llslu never hllONu ItIOTb, WIZ,
regretful longing that she could not
have loved him; sudden, strange
realization that she had wasted her affec-
ton, that this mans staunch, loyal heart
was worth a 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
lis to walk together, Mark E
He could but have a 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 | am not going to be married,
Mark-that Is, not yet awhile. Wilfred
is angry with me; but | must not tell
you'll do not know why [ SO forgot my
self. 1t is only that | am to stay with
Aunt Ruth for the present-that is all,
Mark.
She truly said she did not know why;
she felt a 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.