The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-10-13
A GREAT TEMPTATION.


Alice Arnden was not woman one
would select for o heroine because OF
her personality. She was neither large
nor small; she was beautiful, | think
(beauty is a hard thing to define and
limit, but it was a beauty of no Won
derful or unusual type, and was of that
kind which grows on one gradually, as
his knowledge of the possessor of it
grows. There was a wealth of sweet
ness and purity shining up in her eyes,
which tears could never wash out, and
the mouth indicated firmness and reso-
luton, which had its beginning long
before the nights vigil, which had left
it so sternly agonized.
The trouble which had come to Alice
Arnden is OF no unusual kind. 1t is a
sudden sorrow, which has crushed out
all hope in life many times in the past,
and will many times in the future as
long as men and maidens are proud
and willful. One may say, "Only a
lovers quarrel" but one should re-
member that there are heart tragedies
in this world, under the torture of
which men and women drag out long
lives without finding peace. To Alice
Arnden it seemed as though everything
worth having in life was now forever
utterly beyond her hope.
She arose from the seat she had oc-
cupied for so long and moved slowly
around her humble room. She had
known until she moved how much she
was suffering physically; how cold it
was; how cramped and weary she was.
There was really little to do. Her bed
had not been used; her room was in or
der. She had plenty of time to prepare
herself for the task of covering her sor-
row from the gaze of her friends-if
she could.
She made fire, and into the fire she
remorsely put all the fragments of the
paper which she had spoiled in her eff
forts to write simple letter long ago
when her sorrow was new. Long ago?
-ts4zast night! Happiness gives wings of
lightness to eternity dying about our
being and so-called. time rather than
eternity, which we roughly measure
and call minutes and seconds; but
sorrow weights their noiseless feet with
lead
Mr. George Fenby was next among
the actors in this little fragment of
human life.
He sat at his window that morning as
Alice Arnden sat at hers. His window
Hooked in the same direction; from it
he saw much the same scene she saw.
The stars faded out for him as for her:
day frightened; the sunlight fell across
his face.
But he sat there with a cheerful fire
near him; he was strong from happy
sleep; his eyes were bright and cheerful,
and looked as though tears had always
been strangers to them, and his lips
were smiling.
The icy marshes seemed to him a
type of the future. Smooth, white,
pure-tbe light stretching warmly
across them-and with the ocean out
side standing to him, as to her. as a
type of eternity-an eternity which he
felt would be one of strength and hap
piness.
George Fenby thought of what he
had to be thankful for this lovely morn
ing. A small fortune, enough for him
self-and one other, fair woman, and
good as fair-for his promised wife:
health, education, friends, influence.
position; it was indeed a goodly pros
pect.
This man was strong and ouick.
good looking, if not handsome. He
looks ike a man who would not do a
wicked thing, or think it, while he
might do a weak or foolish one. He
was a man who would be likely to win
woman's heart-and hold 1t; a man
whose love woman might prize, and
the loss OF which she might wisely
mourn. Weak enough to be a man. he
was strong enough to be one hard to
win from the life which had once had
him.
There was happy smile on his face
as he heard his little brother knock at
the door, and he answered Come in''
in a CHEEKY voice.
Here 5 letter for you, George"
''Thank YOU" said George, as he
took it.
"You are welcome. BY the hand
writing on the envelope / Judge the
message will be pleasant one. -
And the boy left the room.
A pleasant message! The smile Deep
ened on the mans face as he lovingly
handled the letter a little time before he
broke the seal. A pleasant message!
These were the words he read:
Mr. GEORGE FENBY-I will not consent TO bC
any longer hinderer regarding your higher
ambition" | never wish to speak with YOU
again In my life. l give you back your free
dom. ALICE AuNpEN
SO Mr.. Fenby's morning gift was the
gift of his freedom. What should he dc
with it? His cheeks and lips grew cold
and white Mt the thought. Merciful
heavens! What could he do with il?
The sky seemed darkened, the earth
seemed dreary and desolate. George