The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1885-07-16

she tore open the envelope and recog.
nized the handwriting.
ttWhat is the NATTER" asked Mr..
Trevellyn, as he marked her pallor.
II am very tired and will go up stairs,
I think"
"Have you letter." he asked.
"Only a note from a FRIEND" she
quietly replied.
In her own room, without even wait
ing to close the door, she read long,
loving letter from Give, full of self-re-
proaches and sympathy for her-an
accidental meeting of a friend had given
him the first intelligence of her father
illness and their Journey South. Why
had not some friend written him for
her? He had been SO wounded by her
silence. Now he begged forgiveness for
words ofreproach and GOODNESS. Might
he write he father and claim her as his
own Jessie? Time had no wings while
he waited her reply-now the impatient
lover.
Mr.. Trevellyn finished his paper and
his cigar, then looked at his watch and
left the room in search Of his wife.
Through the open door Of her room
he saw her sitting silent and motion
less, the fire of a chilly May evening
shining on her golden hair. "What a
picture for my home" he softly Wills
pered, as he bent over her.
"Dear Jessie, there should be no Sc
crets between man and wife. May
see the letter which so strangely affects
your"
"You cannot" she said as she rose
from her chair, no longer the suffering
girl, but the wronged and outraged
woman. "You cannot, though | tell
you from whose pen it came. Dearly
/ love the man from whom your peril
dy has forever separated me. My an
swer you shall hear for / am your
vile" she bitterly added. "And it
shall be my care that it reaches Mr..
Lee"
A night Of tears and agony for Jes-
sic, of mingled remorse and rage for
her husband, and she stood before him
in the soft morning light an open let
ter in her hand.
"Mr. Trevellyn, you will hear what
| have written to my friend:
"'MY DEAR Mr.. LEE.-After long, sad
winter passed in the South, at the bedside
OF my father, have returned to my old
home, but--a wife. In the presence OF my
diving father l married his nephew, Mr.
Trevellyn. This brief note must be IL reply
to your letter written fortnight since.
God bless you forever. JESSIE T. 80
Years rolled on. John Trcvclly,
sought the excitement of political liii
to forget thcpast. Jessie 5 beauty and
grace WAS everywhere acknowledged:
but it was the perfection OF the statue
which no loving heart and hand hid
warmed into happy life.
Within q few months after nine years
OF married life, John Trevellyn died:
but not before he had confessed to Jes.
sic in bitter, penitent humiliation, the
deception practiced toward Give Lee
and herself, and freely, even lovingly,
she had forgiven him.
But the old wound was not healed,
and the remembrance of her old lover
how a diplomat at a foreign cour t.
was ever one OF mingled pleasure and
pain.
On hemorning of which we write Mrs.
Trevellyn had seen in a daily paper the
announcement that Mr.. Lee, after an
absence of ten years, had returned to
his native land for brief visit. With
a world Of memories stirring her heart
to.its very depth, she had almost in
voluntarily wandered out to the old
tree.
GLOW strange" she said, as she
walked slowly toward her home an
hour later GLOW strange that Give
should not know me! Ii he but knew
the truth! But I can never tell him;
the honor OF the dead forbidsit.
AS Jessie stepped toward the little
stile which divides the woody upland
from the meadow beyond, she saw
Give Lee quietly sitting on it's lower
step, like one who waits for another.
AS she came slowly forward he sprane
from his seat, and with outstrctched
arms barred her way as he said:
"Jessie, I have come for you! / de-
mand my own-that for which have
so long and patiently waited"
There was no "whispering boughs' -
to tell us what the lovers said.
Enough for us to know that three
months afterward there was quiet,
happy wedding and Give Lee and Jes.
sic left for their New Eden over the
sea, leaving all the sorrowful past be.
hind them at the little stile.