New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1884-04-23

3 picnic up at the quarr1es. Could not
you lay aside your dignity. and honor
us with your presence awhilep Itwould
be so much better, for all concerned, il
there was better feeling between you
and your people,
mo. thank you. Victorl'' she said
haughtily. .'If there is anything in
this house that will serve them. they
are welcome to it. But to 20 up there
and play the Lady Bountiful. nurse the
babies and listen to the endless ac-
counts of last winters rheumatism and
this summers lumbago, is too dreadful
for contemplation. .
what . thoroughbred little aristo-
crat you are, Nell! You were born q
hundred years too late. But ! think
love you the better as you are,' rails
ing the taper fingers to his lips.
Yielding to q sudden impulse, she
bent forward and touched her lips to
the bright boyish brow.
And Victor went down to the road to
the mills with . lighter heart than he
had known for months, for he loved his
cousin, and her GOODNESS and indiffer-
ence troubled him sorely.
just then the morning train thunder
ed up to the little station, half mile
distant, and left single passenger
tall man, in grey tweed suit, who
nodded Familiarity to the few bystand.
ers and took the path across the fields
to the mills.
Victor was standing surrounded by
the men, looking like a young god.
His straw hat was in his hand. and the
wind rufaed his bronze curls.
He was telling them of his arrange
ments for the picnic, amid bursts of APP
plause and peals of laughter, for the
young master was always ready with
his joke
On the outskirts of the little group,
unnoticed in the excitement of the mo-
ment. stood the tall man in the gray
tweed suit.
Suddenly he raised his eyes to the
scafolding above Victor's head, and
then, no one knew quite how it hap
pened, but strong men were thrown
right and left, as by a giants strength.
There was a sickening crash, and
Victor was thrown, as though he were
q child, far out of harms way.
But where he had stood moment
before, lay q man they all knew, pin
ned down by heavy beam across his
chest.
And while they stood horror-stricken
and appalled,, graceful wOman's form
was in their midst.
MEN, = she said in voice 90 unlike
her own that those who heard it never
forgot, .'can you do nothing but stand
and stare like idiotsp Victor, he has
given his life for you, can you do moth
Ing to relieve him? Go to the house
and see that room is made ready to
receive him. John Stiles, saddle the
deetest horse in my stable, and ride for
DR.. jackson as you never rode before;
and the rest Of you put forth all your
strength and lift this BEAM
And they succeeded In rescuing the
man. and bore him slowly and si-
lently, with all the strong vitality
crushed out Of him. up the road he had
trodden so often-up the broad walk
that had echoed 50 drearily to the sound
Of his footsteps less than year ago
into the house he had been forbidden
to enter again; and before them walked
woman, with wild eyes and white
drawn lips.
When the doctor came out of the
room. after all was done that he could
do, she met him at the door.
us there any hope, doctorp"
II cannot tell yet. He has q strong
constitution, and we will hope for the
best, I" said the good old doctor, while
tears stood in his eyes.
For he had known and loved Stephen
Walker all his life.
Doctor. /" she said, grasping his arm
with passionate force, '.you must save
him-you must, You must! Take all I
haveI n s!9sy; lands, everything-but
'.You forget my child. that the is
sues of life and death are not In my
hands. II any skill Of mine can avail
to save Stephen Walkers life. / think
you know need no BRIDE .
Forgive me. doctor! 1 scarcely
knew what was saying I know you
nurse papa always said so.
Helen, you must not think Of nurs-
ing him. This strain on your nerves
is too great; you are i'll already
She laid slim cool hand In his.
Put your finger on my pulse, doc
tor. It beats evenly. I must be brave
|sand strong for his sake. If I gave my
life for him it would but poorly requite
what he has done lor me. .
The doctor looked into the white pit
iful face, in which no trace Of the old
pride remained. and read her secret.
ut shall be2as you wish, he said
briefly; '.bnt you must let . nurse help
you. It will be q terrible ordeal even
il he RECEIVERS. =
She went into the darkened room,
whore he lay in q heavy stupor, and
knelt beside the couch. Presently he
|: opened his eyes and saw her there. A
glad smile lighted his face.
Nell, Queen Nell!" he said softly,
and then, .sVictor-is he safep''
Safe and unframed, Stephen: but
at what cost!''
ut is better Sd s;ssbetter and easier to
die thus for your Happiness than TO, I've
through the weary years Of exile I
do not talk Of dying, she .moaned.
You must live for my sake; for, oh.
my darling, cannot live without your
a sudden gladness TRANSPORTED his
face.
DO Jon know what you are saying,
.Helenp Did fou care for me : little,
after allp,'
$50 much. stephen, that il yon are.
taken. there VII lbe no good thing left
g. life, for me but lie down and die.
too-sos much that could mover have
married. Victor, though like 8 coward.
lihIank from telling him @. =
3. 81 must live, dear. he said;e: cam
not die now! t.
And ;then he dritted away into un-1
kcQnsciousness. ~
n Massiong days before he5 know her
again-long, weary days, while the
iron constitution did battle With tho.
s1oyor that consumed him, and often.
~. it ! i Int the battle VS.