Daily Los Angeles herald., 1883-11-08
ADA.
spr E. W.

"lt is an insult, sir, that I shall
1pfver forgive"
N.nd she laid her hand on the
a there.
4 But placing his hands gently
on hers he said. "Stop. Ada
God knows. / did not mean it as
such"
i mo explanation, Theodore st.
Clair. What you have said is
more than I can endure. Our
engagement is severed from this
Z moment; and you----"
" BE careful, Ada. Do not
speak. in anger, words that you
Will regret for q lifetime. You
well know / am not naturally an
humble man, and weakness is en-
tirely inconsistent with my char
acter. But / can bear much
from you, because I love you; and
II we once separate--"
Ere he closed his sentence, Ada
began. II, too. have my pride,
aud will retract nothing l have
said. Heretofore / have grati6ed
your every wish, and submitted
to ali your petty exsctions. ]
have borne long enough with
tyour impsrious will. and I repeat
that our engagement is dissolved.
You shall never be forgiven un-
a - It be 10 your last moments or
4 hins.'
"As you will, miss. You will
NE to see retribution follow your
4 words"
And taking his hat. he passed
out into the hall, and was gone.
Undisciplined, way ward, petu-
lant at times, and, withal, warm
hearted, was Ada MeInard. She
was the only daughter Of q
wealthy and retired merchant.
Her mother had died when she
was a mere child: and being left
to the care OF her indulgent faith.
Or. petted by all. we wonder not
that she was spoiled child; and
l hope. dear reader, that this
may plead for her an excuse for
the manner in which we were
obliged to introduce her at. the
| commencement Of our story. Ada
possessed warm heart in the
caliner moments OF life. Her i'm
| pulses were her rulers. As she
felt. 90 she acted. She had no
concealments; yet. with all this.
there lay within her q pride not
easily quickoned. but having lat
snt elements, that. once filed
with life, made her as inAsxible as
iron.
Captain st. Clair was MIN of
placid exterior, OF thoughtfal
habits. sensitive and proud.
Deeply he lovsd tho woman of his
choice, and would have given
worlds to possess her had not
this affair happened. Ada went
slowly to her room, and ere she
had closed her cham her door had
forgiven Lim-yea, a hundred
times over; and mad he been there
then she would have sought his
Axdon on her knees. Too late
felt how deeply she loved
lin, and how lonely she was
| without him. Naught was left
| for her to do but to again take up
the old thread OF life where she
had dropped it two years ago, in
that sweet summer time when the
new Joy had fret come TO her.
What a desolate existence was
herel She had lived but one day
10 this miserable state. and the
thought of the lifetime to come al
most maddened her. She did not
die, or share the fate OF the sui
eide. US novelists would have hei
do; such weakness was not char
acteristic Of hers. Did she weep
owe her great sorrow2 II so, 1t
Was in secret. No one ever saw
that proud eye dilnmed by a
single tear.
Mlsfortunes never como singly,
and Ada little dreamed of the
great sorrow which was to befali
her Her father had been ou,
riding. and, by some means, the
horse became frightened, and he
was thrown violently, and receiv.
ed several severe injuries. He
was removed to his home; and al.
though the greatest care was
bestowed npon him, and the most
eminent physicians employ el, ys,
they failed in their efforts, aud
within three days, Ada was lef
sole heiress OF her fathers grea
wealth.
But what was wealth to her
now that hope and love we're shu