Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1885-03-06
ter, filled with a frantic longing to be

ter, filled with a frantic longing to be
at rest.
Having told her story with many
tears, she called upon the holy saints
to bless me for my goodness Il repeat
what she said). But my heart was full
of anger toward the man who had so
ill-treated her-this Charles Walters,
as he styled himself-for neither Mir
lam nor 1 believed that he had given
her his right name. l did not tell her
this, of course. But / could not keep
back what L felt in talking to Miriam.
My face grew hot, and I clenched my
hand as I cried: ale is q heartless
traitor!"
'There may be q misunderstanding,
madam; the lady trusts him STILL"
II do not believe it," / said; ''he has
deceived her cruelty" You see / was
young, and 1 spoke out what I felt.
Miriam put her fingers to her lips,
but it was too late. Dolores, from her
couch in the next rom. had heard me
and called me to her side.
Nevertheless. sonora. he is still my
love and my husband. Think, madam,
if your husband should"
"lMy husband!' 1 exclaimed. i..It
could not be. But if it were possible
that he could deceive me, l would never
speak to him again, or desire to be
~reconciled."
She sighed, and took my hand I'm
hers, and pressed it. How pretty she
was in a gray gown of mine, adorned
with a bunch Of rose-colored ribbonss
Day by day she grew more lovely, and
day by day 1 discovered fresh virtues
in her.
l had not any one to consult at
home, so l went to our old clergyman
and asked him to write letters on Do
lores' behalf, making inquiries con-
corning her husband. This heidi, and
after some weeks the answers came, all
with the same result. No one had
heard of Lieutenant Walters, and
there was no such name on
the list of officers in his Majesty's Navy.
BY degrees we left off expecting to get
any good news, only 1 cherished a Sc
cret hope that when Ambrose, my hus-
band, came home-in a couple of
months-he would throw some light on
the subject. Dolores stayed on with
me, and | learned to love her dearly.
The neighbors were all pleased with
her society, and no one knew besides
Miriam that [ had found her on that
autumn evening by the Black Pond.
After that there came bitter days for
me, Phoebe Lyncombe. 1t was Easter,
and the good ship 'sThunderbolt'' was
long due at Plymouth, and there was
no news of her. 1 had thought to have
my husband with me before the prim-
,,ncns y,r ant c~J ~o,y @Ln I,nlo..
were yellow with blossoms and he never
came. My uncle, ar old Admiral who
resided at Plymouth, had long promised
to send me a mounted messenger as
soon as he should have tidings of the
''Thunderbolt," and day after day 1
stood by the garden gate and looked
down the road in vain. In my trouble,
Dolores seemed to forget her own; she
cheered me, bore with my fits Of de-
spair, and was in all wayshke a loving
sister during that dark season. One
afternoon she had gone to the par
sonage with a message, and 1 sat try
ing to sew by the parlor window. The
ivy was beginning to put forth it's
young shoots, q delicious perfume of
violets was waited in from the garden.
The room was trim and orderly, a bowl
of yellow cowslips stood on a table by
the side OF my inlaid work-boX--i it was
IL of Ambrose's many presents. I
saw myself reflected in the mirror
hanging on the wall opposite, sitting
on a h%igh-backed chair over my tam
bour frame, with my hair gathered
high on my head, a handkerchief
pinned across my neck, and the pulled
Sleeve of my gown ending above my
elbow. Behind me was the door; even
rs l looked it opened quickly. There
was a step | knew, the sound of Voice
l loved: "Where are you? Phoebe, my
wife!" No more signing owe the
no more watching for the messenger;
before | could well jump from my seat
he was there, his face was close to my
lips Well, it is Dolores story that
| am telling you, not mine.
Safe, safe home at last, and there
had been no mishap beyond contrary
winds; he had outridden the messenger
or the road. The time passed quickly.
AS We sat side by side looking out on
to the landscape, the hills and dales
all green with the sweet freshness of
spring, he took my hand again in his,
and then | noticed that he wore a ring
that l had never seer before. What
a magnificent ring, Ambrose!" I said,
holding his hand up to the light that 1
might see it better. 1t was of foreign
workmanship, %curiously chased, and in
the center was a flashing stone set in
diamonds. To my surprise, Ambose
did not answer at once, but looked
troubled; at last he said: II car not
tell you the whole story of the ring
now, dearest Phoebe, it belongs to my
brother Charlford, he is i'll at Plymouth;
tomorrow you shall hear all about it."
knew that Charlford's mad freaks
and misbehavior had long been a cause
of anxiety to Ambrose (Charlford was
his youngest and best-belovcd brothcr),
SO l forbore to grieve him with another
word on the subject.
lis that our good Miriam at the
door?' asked Ambrose, presently.
There was certainly a step in the pas
sage; but when l went to seek Miriam
L found her in her own room at the
farther end of the house. Afterward,
l remembered that some one had
naSSal alOnr the ha1Vn and pnna out at