McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-09-04

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longer. If you succeed in making a
favorable impression upon the old lady,
who is rather queer in her way, it will
be much easier employment than
that of housekeeper. l will conduct
you to her, and see how the plan is
likely to succeed"
Agnes's modest face at once at
tracted the invalid's fancy and she was
engaged to take the place on the fol-
lowing week.
She fulfilled her duties satisfactorily
and after few months became fondly
attached to the old lady, and found d
real pleasure in trying to make her
life as happy as it could be while en-
during SO much pain.
Her death came suddenly, and was
such shock to the kind young care
taker that at first it put all other
thoughts out of her mind Then she
awoke to 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 to it, and to her great
surprise supplemented his refusal by an
offer OF marriage.
81 never thought to put trust in wo-
man again." he said; ''but 1 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 we now. Think of what 1
have said, and give me my reply to-
morrow at this time.n
Surprised and bewildered at this
sudden proposition. Agnes withdrew
from Mr.. Durant's presence.
''Was there such a thing as true
love in the worldp" she questioned her.
self-'' that is, in a mans hearth
Her own sad experience taught her
to answer, 'sNo.
She did not love Mr.. Durant, but she
was conscious of feeling of respect
and admiration for him.
He had not protested to love her.
1t would be purely friendly union,
and was it not the truest kind of mar
riage after all?
Thus she reasoned down her consci-
entious 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 throughout lifes
journey.
Mr.. Durant was pleased with her
candor, and after brief delay they
were married.
The young wife proved like ray of
sunshine in the grand old house.
Every room showed tokens of the
change that had been inaugurated with
its new mistress; and, best of all, Ag-
mes learned to love her husband, not
with the romantic devotion which had
characterized the first love, that had
ended so disastrously, but with
calm, enduring affection, 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 exquis-
itively painted miniature of a Young
girl.
The artist had depicted the sweet
face with smile curving the delicate
lips, dimpling the pink cheeks, and
laughing roguishly out of the eyes, as
blue as the fax-fower blossom.
Agnes fastened with her new-found
treasure to the library, her husbands
favorite haunt.
She held the picture towards him.
ssSee what l have found! What a
shame for such a beautiful face to be
hidden away in place which is so sell
dom visited"
Mr.. Durant glanced up with a pre-
occupied look, but as his eyes rested
upon the picture, with sudden dark
ening of his usually calm face, and
with lowering 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 Gained himself
by supreme effort, and said, cit is
through your ignorance of my past,
Agnes, that you have given me such a
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
left in my benumbed heart, she desert
ed me for stranger, and again 1 was
left desolate. She proved an migrate.
Never mention her to me again, Agnes.
l 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.
1t seemed so cruel for her to be en-
joying the beautiful home of her noble
hearted husband, while his daughter
was an exile from it.
But Agnes had the rare gift of pa
tience. So she said nothing until She
could see the way clear not to iniure
the cause of the absent one. But from
the time when her husband first dis
closed to her the carefully guarded Sc
cret at his heart, she determined to
eventually effect a reconciliation.
IL