Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1884-05-31

ing her proper place in society as
hostess Or guest but then blinded
by my jealousy, I grudged any other
man a pleasant look or CHEEKY word.
| cannot tell you now of every scene
that turned her love for me to fea,
and dislike. She became pale and
miserable, often sullen and defiant.
Finally she left me!'
''Left you!"
Il came home one afternoon after
conducting an intricate criminal case,
and found note on my table telling
me Myra could no longer endure the
life of constant quarrelling and re-
proach. She had taken her child
and would never return to me-"
"Did she not go to relatives II
"She had but few. Her father
died while we were abroad, and
having been considered a rich man.
was ,ound to have left less than his
funeral expenses. She had an aunt
and some cousins, to all of whom !
went, but who denied all knowledge
OF her. After searching with the
eagerness of penitence deep and
/ sincere, and love most profound, |
! finally advertised, and even employed
private police Investigation ..
sit was all in vain. never found
wife Or child :"
yet You think they liye:''
81 cannot tell. | remained here
for five years, and then, as You know,
went to see my only sister, dying in
consumption"
And to become my second father"
Yes, my boy. | found you my
little naniesake, Il sobbing boy of
twelve, heart broken over your
mothers illness and death. You
know the rest of my life-story. |
retired from the pursuit of my pro-
iession, Travelled with you, made you
my one interest in life! You filled
an empty house and heart, for |
loved you, Hilton, as dearly as l
loved my baby daughter whose child
hood is Il closed, sealed book to ME.
"But uncle George can nothing
be done now :"
We have been in London three years,
and every month there has been an
advertisement only Myra would un-
derstand in the leading papers. /
have never had one line OF answer.
No, my boy, it is hopeless now. II
III the iuture you ever know OF my
wife or child, | trust her to your care
and generosity"
| 1t seemed as if, IN the excitement
Of his recital, Mr.. Hilton had forgot
ten the conversation that had immedi-
ately suggested it.
He rose from his seat, and opening
a cabinet in the room, brought back
a small box. 1t contained brace.
let of hair with an inexpensive clasI
and locket.
"When we were in Paris,' he said
81 had this bracelet made of Myra's
hair and mine woven together; she
has the companion one. This tiny
coil of gold in the clasp was cut from
the baby's head, our little darling
then but three months old. 1t mus,
have been some lingering love tina
made Myra still keep the braceler
like this which she wore constantly
What is the matter Hilton? Yor
are as pale as death"
''Nothing. Is your wile's picture
in the Iocket.
eyes You see how beautiful she
was
y see more than that" said Hilton
"and yet dare not tell you what
hope. viii yon give me one little
hour, to see if"
, "If what"
"Only one hour-l will be back
thenn'
"Stop!!' Mr.. Hilton cried, shaking
with excitement.
But his nephew was gone. Hoping,
fearing, knowing not what to hope OF
iear. MIR. Hilton watched the clock
till the hour should be over.
He walked up and down, tried
to read, lie lived over again that past
whose remorselul memories had been
so vividly recalled.
With Myra's picture before him, he
thought again of that wild, fierce love
that had b en his happiness and his
blights.
"Why was not calm, reasonable