McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-05-08

The old man sank back with groan.
.'Lost- then l am lost!' he cried,
shuddering.
There was no reproach, only those
bitter words and that despairing atti-
tude. White and fearless she sat at his
his feet, the agony OF her heart written
on her face. The wild, desperate
thought that the sacrifice was possible
occurred to her.
"Father, dear fatheri"
He raised his head, whitened with
the frosts of his sixty winters, and
looked at her with CLEAN of hope in
his sunken eyes. She crept into his
arms, as she had done when child,
and laid her soft cheek against MS
wrinkled brow.
"You know that love you, father, :"
she said. 81 can never remember you
but as kind, tender and forbearing with
me. Your heart has been my home all
my life. ] will work, beg, suffer for
you I will die for you-oh, how will
ingly, if need be! But that-eh, father,
you do not know what it is that you
ask"
He did not speak, but moan broke
uncontrollably from his lips, as he
rested his head upon her shoulder.
The struggle in her heart sent dark,
shadowy waves across her face. Could
she-could shep
"Father," she whispered, hurriedly,
''let me 60 now. l will see you again
answer you tomorrow" And she
left him.
He could not see her face in the
gathering darkness, only glimpse of
something white, but he felt the culver
of her lips as she bent to kiss him, and
reached out his arms to embrace her,
but she was gone.
"Heaven pity met" The words came
like wall from her lips. She was
alone in her chamber, flung PROSTATE
upon low couch, with her face hid in
the cushions. The sound of the rust
ling foliage of the garden, and the
chirping of the birds came IN through
the open window with the damp even
ing breeze, and the pale light of the ris-
ing moon filed the room with soft
radiance, but she was UNCONSCIOUS of
everything but her misery. The house
was SO quiet that the sound of foot
step crossing the hall below fell upon
her ear and aroused her to a mo-
mentary interest. She heard a door
open-the library door-and then a
voice uttered few words of common
place greeting. She remembered it
well, and sprang to her feet with des-
perate, insane thought of fight. But
the door closed, the house was still
again and she was calmer.
She crossed the room listlessly and
drew back the curtain of the window.
The scene without was beautiful. The
moonlight lay broadly on the garden,
turning to silver the tops of the trees
and making the little lake beyond look
like great white pearl. Gazing earn
estly downward she saw tall, shadowy
figure, standing beneath the shade IF
the old elm. With low cry she
sprang from the room and a moment
later stood beside her lover.
"Come at last, my treasure" cried
Mark Winchester. folding her in his
arms. She remained leaning passion
ately against his breast, while he
pressed passioate kisses upon her
forehead, cheek and lips
"Why have you made me wait so long,
darlingP" he said, softly, and taking
both her hands in one of his, he pressed
them to his lips. "Why, how cold you
are! How you tremble!" he contin-
ued, as she chung to him. "What is
the matter, May?''
81 waited because dreaded to meet
you. Mark
"Why? What do you meant"
: And, brokenly, through her tears and
sobs, she told him all. He did not
speak or stir while she was talking,
and when she had finished there was a
long silence. She lacked courage to
say more-he would not ask. She re-
peated the last words, sand tomorrow
I must give him my answer Still he
did not answer.
She looked up at him. In the dim
light she could see his rigid, agonized
face, white lips and cleaning eyes.
She stole her arms about his neck, and
drew his forehead down to her lips.
"Speak to me, Mark; say that you
do not blame me.''
He knew then that she had decided
and what that decision was.
"And you will leave me, May, and
marry that old man?"
s'Heaven pity me, Mark, for I must.
[ will become his wife, and will be
true and faithful to him, for he will be
kind to me. You will hear of me thus,
and when you do remember my words,
Mark, that you are my heart
81 will remember, May. God help
US both, for / never shall forget you.
They shall bury me with this upon my
heart"
And he drew a tress of soft, brown
hair from his bosom.
For a moment more-one little
precious moment-he held her against
his heart and then kissed her, put her
gently from him, and was gone.
For q moment she stood alone under
the trees, with clasped hands and face
appraised to the quiet sky, and then she
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