Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1882-08-04
TWENTY YEARS AGO.
Daphne McCarthy's Great Love Won
In a Chicago Cemetry.
From, Ia Ch;na,a Tr;h4pa

In Chicago Cemetry.
From the Chicago Tribune.
Twenty years ago, sweetheart"
As Daphne Mccarthy spoke these
words she looked into the face of the
man she loved so well, and the dim
Piled arm, whose pearly whiteness and
beautiful rounded curves shone so be-
witchlngly through the soft, f1eecy
dress that the girl wore, chung more
trustingly than ever to that of George
w. Simpson. The day was indeed 3
beautiful one a symphony of sight and
and light and scent. Up from the maple
trees came the sweet voices of the birds
twlttering to each other from newly
built nests amid boughs that swayed
to and fro In the wind and shook their
latest buds into leaf and blossom. From
far below came a murmur of waves
breaking softly on a shingy beach, and,
mlngiing with this murmur, the shouts
and laughter of the fisher lads as
they sported in the waters. The dim
fragrance and dappled lights, and pleas
ant sounds made three-fold joy to
Daphe, as she stood beneath the trees
that June morning with her lover by
her side. She stood on a part of the
slope whence the trees had drawn back
little, and the light fell about erjust
beyond the verge of the shadow. Round
her feet were dead leaves and living
flowers, and soft, green moses full of
the sweet rain that had fallen the pre-
vious night. With one hand she shaded
her eyes, the other was uplifted to bend
back a branch which had barred the
open space. Her hair was blown in q
brown cloud about the girlish face. and
the hazel eyes shone with a wistful
look beneath the shading hand.
Standing in the centre of the little
dell into which the girl was looking was
q stately marble shaft around whose
base the violets and pansies were clus-
tering, and showing by their presence
that loving hands had placed
them there. For an instance
Daphne did not speak, but the
tears that trickled down her face told
all too plainly of the grief that was
racking her young breast. Finally she
turned to George, and, smiling through
her tears, placed her hand confidingly
on his shoulder and seemed perfectly
contented.
s'1t is not strange, darling" he said,
"that I can never look ON the grave of
my mother-that mother whom
never saw, and who yielded up her
young life when I was born-without a
sense of bitter grief and desolation
Twenty years ago to-day, sweetheart,
she died. 1t is long time, dear, is it
not 81 ond ouoiY, tho oir1 c,,,ilaI
eyes, my pet" replied George.
Goldsmith Maid was a colt them" and
bending down his shapely head with
its coronal of shoe brush hair, he kissed
the little rosebud mouth. Then, press
ing the 1.-the form more closely to him,
he spoke with grave tenderness that
showed how much his words meant OF
a subject that was very near to his
young heart.
"But though your mother be dead,
Daphe," he said, "you have still nv
love to comfort and uphold you. And
cannot you speak now, here beside
that mothers grave, the words that will
make me happy for life? Will you not
promise me that when the autumn
com es you will crown my life with the
halo Of your love, and become my
wife,"
For moment the girl was silent,
looking down and twining nervously
around her fingers the tendrills of a
rose that she had plucked from a bank
of the scarlet beauties that blossomed
near the grave.
"Will you marry me, Daphne ?" ask
ed George again,
Still no answer.
II cannot bear this silence, sweet
heart, indeed I cannot" exclaimed the
young man, his pallid face betokening
the intense agony from which he suf-
fered. "You must end this terrible
suspense in some way. Tell me truly,
Daphne, do you love me?'
Placing her arms about his neck and
looking into his face with eyes from
which the glad love of light was stream
ing, Daphne said to him in tones that
thrilled his very blood.
81 should gasp to gurgle."