National Republican. (Washington City (D.C.)) 1872-1888, 1881-02-19
BERTHA BkNDOLINE.
Thrilling Story of a Chicago Girl by nm
English Novelist.

1t was dreary November day.
| From the gray sky, over which swept vast masses
of leaden eolored clouds, came steady, drench-
| ing rain, which beat down upon the earth in a
ptiless way, making the scene one of utterly cheer
] less gloom. Drip, drip, drip came the cold drops
from the caves and before they preached theground
were joined by other drops that had FLASHED
against the window panes in vicious way, only
TO be beaten back and sent 10 join their mates that
| had attacked other portions of the house with
! equal non-suceess.
1t was modest little structure this against which
the entire forces of the elements seemed to be
combined, but, although small, it had a deter
mined look, and stuck its various angles and sides
out into the storm in calmly defiant manner.
In coy little room Of the cottage sat girl of
nineteen summers and about four hundred falls.
This excess of falls due TO the extreme length
of the skating season the previous year. Bertha
Bondoine was a prOnd, sensitive girl, who in
stinctively shTank from publicity Of any sort and
the first time the ice came up and met her she
sat there calmly for an instant and then rose say
ing softly TO herself 81 have broken my hustle"
Warm words of sympathy and affection came
from those around her, but she only smiled sadly
and went home wiser but bustleless girl. The
next day her father received bill for new bus
tie Helooked at it fora moment and thought Ofthe
days gone by when Bertha would climb on his
knee as he sat before the glowing crate, and after
pulling at his beard and saying how much she
loved papa, would fall asleep i'll his arms, the flick
ering blaze of the fire making strange lights and
shadows around her head, with its tangled mass
ofyellOw hair, that lay upon his shoulder. She
still sat in front of the fire with her head III The
same place, but the shoulder belonged to another
person.
my daughter S very dear 10 me-, said the Old
man, tendcrly, as he paid the bill.
J-ncOnScinuSly he had told the truih
Bertha is sill sitting in her bOudoir. Boudoir
means room, but il is more heightened Kind
words cost nothing, and even being good 10 your
self keeps YOU in practice The rain still fell. II
is the threnody and dirge of my happiness" said
Bertha, i'll a low, despairing voice. Rupert viii
never love me again. Il seems as if he had sailed
away in the ship with the lights and the music
and The merry passengers, and left me all alone
the dark waters in oaress sailless boat beneath
the midnight sky"
Bertha did not know what threnody meant but
slung it in at random. But we can forgive This
She often TOO previous III her language. All
must pity young heart torn By conflicting enc
tons hesitatng between faith and doubt III one
it loves. Who can paint the biaekness Of nature
that would betray trust so sacred? Is not its
possessor worthy of eternal damnation?
should smile.
But while Bertha sits enshrouded in her own
sombre thoughts and lorebOdiDgs, where is the |
object of her passion?
in gilded haunt Of sour mash stand two youns /
men One is Rupert, the other is Jim.
Jim who?" do you ask? Never mind. 4 !
sittering bauble is spinning on surface of pol |
iShed wood. !
IL is quarter. /
Finally its revolutions cease. The young men !
bend eagerly over it.
You've lost JIM"
oh. hell!" |
"Give us the same as before to a man be-
hind the counter. In another instant tiny glass
went TO Rupert's lips
Does he love Bertha?
/ cannot tell lie-I don't know HHktc Co hits