McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1883-09-27
handled the letter a little time before he

| ucSe were Inc WOTuS ne Ttdu:
MR.. GEORGE FENBY-I will not con
sent to be any longer hinderer regard
ing your ''higher- ambition" nevel
wish to speak with you again in my
life. give you back your freedom.
ALICE ARNDEN.
So Mr.. Fenby's morning gift was thu
gift of his freedom. What should hi
do with itP His cheeks and lips grew
cold and white at the thought. Mer
ciful heavens! What could he do with
it?
The sky seemed darkened, the earth
seemed dreary and desolate. George
Fenby and Alice Arnden, a bare quar-.
ter of mile apart, could not have been
more widely separated had an ocean
stretched between them And each
looked on the same landscape and saw
alike at last.
The village of Marsham was a small
one, and most of it was farther from the
ocean than were the two houses at the
windows of which we have seen two un-
happy persons.
It was relief to both George and
Alice that there was service in the little
church tina. morning, and everybody
could be looked for there. Secret sor-
row finds certain abatement of it's in
tensity in the effort of appearing uncon-
cerned. Then there is mournful
pleasure in seeing what one has lost.
In a place no larger than Marsham
everyone knows everybody else. Every
one knows the business of everybody
else in some degree, or thinks so, and
says so. So our two friends were
known, and their relations to each other
were known also. And so poorly had
they played their parts, that when serv-
ice was finished nearly all their friends
had concluded that their engagement
was over, and many were specializing
as to the reason for it.
Ralph Warden was too Shrewd man
not to see what every one else saw. He
said but little about it, as he spoke to
one and another after church, but he
was deeply interested and very much
puzzled. The, time had been when the
gossips had connected his name with
that of Alice Arnden, and there were
those who he'd shaken their heads when
it became evident that she had been
won by George Fenby, instead of
Ralph.
Ralph had never spoken to Alice of
love, and we will respect his reserve.
What he cared for her may remain a
sealed book. .-,sr. .s ...s ,....-
George Fenby walked home alone.
Ralph Warden came the same road, but
a quarter of a mile behind him. Some
out of the village Ralph sud-
denly came upon two papers, resting on
the snow by the side of the road. They
had most likely been pulled from the
pocket of the owner in removing his
The smaller paper had
blown apart, it lay upon the other, and
its contents were so brief tsat Ralph
had read it before he had taken it in his
he was doing. We have seen the paper
before. It was the brief letter in which
Alice Arnden had dismissed George
Fenby.
Ralph Warden stood for a long time
with the letter in his hand.
ssI've read it once; it can do no harm
10 read it again." he said.
And he read it again-not once mere
", but dozen times. 1t seemed as if
he was trying to draw something from
The bit of paper which he did not find
here. @ 1
After a time he stopped and picked
up the other paper, a long folded docu-
ment, but the action was merely a me-
one. He did not open it to
see what it was, but with his head bent
forward on his breast, and with very
grave face, he went on his way. He
walked more slowly than before; he
sometimes stopped, and he talked to
himself from time to time.
elf this is final" he commenced
aloud, and then relapsed into silence.
"a hinderer." Then, after standing
and thinking for awhile, he went on:
''She never was that to him. And she
never was moody and self-distrustful.
He thought for many minutes now.
81 don't understand what she means
oy his 'higher ambition. - His highest
ambition lately seems to have been to
win her. 1t has cost her a great deal
20 give him up-anyone can see that
with half an eye. And his freedom is
not welcome to him; he neither wanted
It nor expected it."
The MONDAY sun was shining and
making everything pleasant. There
was a glow in the wintry air which |
seemed to have promise of summer
IN il.
He seated himself at his table, placed |
Alice Arnden's letter upon it, and read
It again. Then for the first time he |
looked at the other paper which he |
mad picked up. He turned it over and |
saw at once what it was-a deed from
Bertram Kingsley. conveying certain
ands and buildings TO George Fenby
Suddenly he stood still, and hot,