Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1884-10-02

much pain.
Her death came suddenly, and wa:
such shock TO the kind young care
taker that at first it put all other thoughts
out of her mind. Then she awoke tc
the knowledge that she must leave the
hospitable home that had sheltered her
! When she preached the matter to Mr.
Durant, however, he would not listen tc
it, and to her great surprise supplement-
ed his refusal with an offer of marriage
a never thought to put trust ID
woman again." he said; 'but | have
learned to like to see You about this
lonesome old house. You are still on
the sunny side of life, and L am forty;
but will try to make you happy. Do
not answer me now. Think of what ]
have said, and give me my reply to-
morrow at this time"
Surprised and bewildered at this sud.
den proposition, Agnes withdrew from
Mr.. Durant's presence.
"Was there such thing as true love in
the world ?" she questioned herself
that is in mans hearth"
Her own sad experience taught her to
answer, mo"
She did not love Mr. Durant, but she
was conscious of a feeling of respect and
admiration for him.
He had not professed to love her.
1t would be purely friendly union and
was it not the truest kind of marriage af-
| ter all?
Thus she reasoned down her conscien-
tious scruples, and at last made up her
mind to tell Mr.. Durant that if he would
take her for his wife knowing that her
heart had once received blow which
had given love its death-wound, and to
accept friendship and respect instead,
she would be to him true and faithful
companion througout life's journey.
Mr.. Durant was pleased with her can
dor, and after brief delay they we've
married.
The young wife proved like ray of
sunshine in the grand old house. Ev-
cry room showed tokens of the change
that had been inaugurated with its new
mistress; and, best of all, Agnes learned
to love her husband, not with the ro-
mantle devotion which had character
lied the first love, that had ended SO dis
astrously, but with calm, enduring af
lection, which was far better calculated
to make its object happy.
One morning while looking over some
old-fashioned daguerreotypes packed
away in the drawer of an old cabinet,
Agnes came upon an exqutsitiyely paint
ed miniature of a young girl.
The artist had depicted the sweet face,
curving the delicate lips, dimpling the
pink cheeks, and laughing roguishly out
of the eyes, as blue as the flax-hower
blossom.
Agnes fastened with her new.found
treasure to the library, her husbands ia
vorite haunt.
She held the picture toward him.
'See what l have found. What a
away in place which is so seldom WIS.,
tied"
Mr.. Durant glanced up with pre-
occupied look, but as his eye rested on
the picture, with a sudden darkening of
his usually calm face, and with lower
ing brow, he caught it from Agnes and
threw it across the room.
Then seeing by his wife's pallor that
he had startled her, he canned himself
by supreme effort, and said; 1T is
through your ignorance of my past,
Agnes, that you have given me such
wound. That picture represents my
daughter Grace. Her very existence
cost the life of her fair young mother,
and when at last forgave her that debt,
and gave her the warmest place in my
benumbed heart, she deserted me for
stranger, and again was desolate. She
proved an migrate. Never mention her
to me again, Agnes. | have learned to
depend upon your love and sympathy.
Do not disappoint me-"
Agnes stood for an instant in mute
surprise, longing but not daring to plead
for forgiveness for the discarded child of
whose existence she had now heard for
the first time.
It seemed so cruel for her to be enjoy
ing the beautiful home of her noble
hearted husband, while his daughter was
an exile from it.
But Agnes had the rare gift of pa
thence. So she said nothing until she
could see the way clear not to injure the
time when her husband first disclosed
to her the carefully guarded secret at his
heart, she determined to eventually ef-
feet reconciliation.
By inquiries she learned the whole
bitter truth. Grace Durant had fallen in
love with the son of Mr.. Durant's bitter
enemy, and hopeless of gaining her faith
er's consent to their marriage, had yield
ed to the entreaties Of the young lover
and had made clandestine match with
him. He had lived but few years, and
then had left his darling to battle with
the world, and to try and wrest
living from it for herself and her boy
baby.
Surely Agnes had something to work
upon. Who could resist the thought Of
a little grandson?
Again she went to her husband with
likeness; but this time of a dimpled,
dark-eyed boy.
He received it from her carelessly;
looked at it first in listless "Who is
tbis?"
The young wife trembled, but she an
swered bravely, ut is your grandson and
name child. His father is dead, and his
mother, your only daughter, is support
ing herself by giving music lessons. Oh,
my husband, if you love me forgive and
forget the past. Take your dear ones in
to your heart and home"
Mr.. Durant looked at the fair young
pleader curiously; a suspicious moisture
for an instant the brightness
of his dark eyes.
Then he said slowly, "Do you know
what your intercession will cost you
that is, if Iaccede to your request? Agnes
think well Of what you are doing,
My will is made and it is in your favor"
Burn it 1t is unjust! Here is your
rightful heir !" and Agnes pointed to the
childish face with an earnest
beseeching gesture.
You are good little thing, Agnes.
am not deceived in you. l read it in
your face when first saw you. Be it as
you say. have enough for ALL"
Thr,a Annoc x,nado noono hofuoora thu