Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1881-03-03

70 sluB akain.
The girl answered him nothing, as
she stroked the hot brow with the lit
tie cool hand. which, all Drowned and
hardened as it was, fell very soft, very
lovingly.
In her eyes he was king, this shep-
herd lad. Instinctively sheknew that
silence is oftentimes more healing than
speech; and, besides, a wonderful daz-
zling thought had crept into her busy
brain. and driven all lighter thoughts
away.
Still, silently, they rose and walked
silently home. At the door of her lit
tie cottage, he stopped and kissed her
on the brow, as they stood beneath the
stars.
In two more months he was to share
her fate-the home left by her dead
parents-so they both had thought
scarce an hour agone. Tonight Mar
guerite knew differently.
How much would 1t bring, the sale
of this humble little shelter?
1t was this problem which banished
slumber through the long night hours.
1t was solved three days later when
the sum for its possession by strangers,
lay in her hands, and, added to it, the
nest-egg from the bank. made IN the
child's eyes a fortune.
What mattered it that she was beg
CARED? 1t was for Hans sake 1t
was now her turn to be silent, as, hand
finland they walked boneath the gold
en- studded skies.
Hans, she said, at last, very softly,
i have been thinking, dear. since the
other night, and-and, Hans, we won't
be married vet awhile A wife would
only pull you down, instead of helping
you soar to the birds where you be-
Hong ] don't want you to think of
mel want you to go away, and study
to be great SINGER
And as she spoke, she strove to
thrust the bag within his grasp
'Marguerite!'-she shrank from the
sIeEHucSo VI ITO lOuo-- HO" ulli you
get the gold?'
Honestly she answered proudly.
| The gold was to have been my dowry
the notes--I--I sold the cottage for
those
You did this for me, and you think
so meanly of me as that / would ac-
cent Such a sacrifice2
His voice quivered as he spoke.
Hans, was to have been your
wife she whispered Who had the
right, If not |? Oh, shall be so proud
so proud, some day, when you come
back for your little Marguerite, and l
shall be the wife of the great singer!
They will point at me and say, yes, he
married this little nobody, this little
Marguerite, but they say he loves her;
and they will think 1t strange that you
should love me from your great height.
But you won't forget to do that, Hans
ever, ever--will you, my lover
Never until my voice forgets its
music! | must pray God to still it
Forever could my heart prove so false.
Something within me, Marguerite,
conquers myself 1t is hope springing
p, within my breast. will, take your
money little one, sacred debt Wait
for me two years, fraulien; then I will
return, to give you richest payment.
swear it, and seal 1t with this kiss!
Hans had gone. and Marguerite was
left alone. She lived now in one lit
tie room, high up many stairs--up
which she toiled wearily.
At long distances apart, letters came.
Oh, how eagerly Marguerite spelled
them out She slept with them under
her pillow by night, and they sank and
fell with every pulsation of her heart
by day.
Then there were weeks aye months
when she heard nothing, and the child's
figure grew thin and her cheeks grew
pale.
But one evening. when she had al
most given up the hope--when the
great dread lest Hans should be ILL.,
dying or dead, remorselessly shadowed
her pathway--the messenger smiled a
welcome.
But at last when she broke the seal
something white and fluttering fell to
the ground. She stopped to pick it up.
What did it mean? 1t was little
slip, with some figures in one corner.
They represented the exact amount
she had given Hans. Bewildered, she
turned to the letter. Its words ex-
planned:
Il pay you my debt. Think, my
little love, what it cost us, yet earned
1t, Maguerite, on the very night of my
debut. | have sung, and the people
have listened. | looked about among
all the faces--on all the young and
beautiful woman with their eyes fixed
upon me--but nothing inspired me,
Then | thought of you, and looking
straight into space, l forgot them all,
darling. The flowers rained at my
feet. Great ladies tore the roses from
their breast; but | would have given
them all, dearest, for one little, wild
blossom your hand plucked They
say | will be rich and famous: can
not tell--the world is tickle. The vii
lage banker will cash your order But
you need not buy back the little home.
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