The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1883-07-18
ore terrible than n storm of tears.

VIII 90 my uutNi Niuci 10 ~ oecHlS' Dul
| must 90 away from this place. Later
on | will come to you for advice. Leave
me alone for while, please
He went away with a warm shake OF
the hand, and Ruth went to her room to
write long letter to Rolf Grannis.
A brave, womanly, heroic letter, re-
pressing much of her own anguish in or
der TO spare him every possible pang
while she laid the truth before him, on
ly begging that he would not try to see
her again; for her heart shrunk weakly
at the thought of the agony Of parting
with his loving arms about her, and his
dark eyes looking into hers.
Then she left the city and Joined q
training school for nurses in distant
hospital.
This delicately nurtured girl, accus-
toned TO great luxury, entered upon her
new life with firm bravery that was
heroic No martyr at the stake ever
passed through more fiery ordeal than
did Ruth Vennor feeling herself forever
cut off from that crown of every loving
woman's life wifehood and mother.
hood.
Among her new acquaintance was
one to whom Ruth soon became tender
ly attached,
Miss Landerwas plain and elderly and
| quiet; yet some congeniality OF spirit
drew the two together, until Ruth, in her
longing for sympathy, made a conf
| dante of her new friend, and related to
her all her sad story.
Miss Lander listened with a strangely
working countenance, and when Ruth
had finished she kissed the girls pale
cheek and smiled even while she wiped
a tear from her own eye.
my dear brave girl, J." she said, show
strangely fate works out our lives. Your
fortune is not SO hard as it seems. l
hold the key TO your happiness,
"You!" calculated Ruth, staring for
moment at her friend.
Ruth, listen to me-" said Miss Lam
der impressively. "You are not Ven
nor by birth. When Mr.. and Mrs. Ven
nor were travelling abroad they were
| childless. | had then the little orphan
child of my brother-a baby scarce two
months old. | was poor and in i'll
health,
Mrs. Vennor was set upon taking the
baby for her own. She knew Of my con-
dition, and was very kind to me. Her
| husband came TO see me alone one day,
and informed me that his wife was very
low in her mind, and that he feared in
| sanity; but rs she seemed pleased with
the idea of adopting the child, he hoped
for favorable results, if | would consent
to the arrangement My heart was sore
at parting with the sole creature Of my
own left me, but | felt that it was for
the baby's good and | consented,
81 shall name her Ruth, after my
dead sister, he said; and she shall be
like our own. No one-not even my
own doctor, who thinks he knows every
thing about me, shall guess that little
Ruth was not born to me during our
foreign tour And she shall be our heir
ess.
Need | add said Miss Lander,
"that you were that child? | recog-
| nized you at the very first, but did not
speak because felt the difference be-
tween my poverty and your wealth, and
| am proud.
"As for your own parents they were
poor in the worlds goods, my dear, but
rich in honesty and nobility; and there
is not particle of insanity or disease of
any kind in your blood"
Ii seemed to Ruth that never in the
days of her childish careless Joy had life
been half so bright and glad as now,
when, with the darkness of a great sor-
row past, she turned once more to the
sunshine.
She returned at once to her old home,
taking her new-found r6latiye with her
Dr. Brian was told the marvellous truth,
which at first he was half inclined to
doubt
But some letters in Mrs. Vennor's
handwriting, addressed to Miss Lam
der, convinced him; and he joyfully ac-
cepted the commission of breaking the
joyful news to Rolf Grennis, who had
accepted his dark fate with sort of
grim despair, that was making cold,
hard man of him.
Our story is ended
The two Young lovers were happily
united, and Miss Lander, a smiling and
peaceful old lady, makes her home with
them, and nurses their children faith
fully.