Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-03-03


lutcly refused to be his guests but
fered aid; and she, though with an ach-
ing heart, now that she knew the value
OF what she was putting away from
her, again refused to be Colonel Gra-
hams wife. IL was only pity that
prompted him. she told herself.
In New York she took up the burden
OF existence for the first time. She
seldom saw Colonel Graham, though
he often spent the evenings with her
father. She hid herself in her own
poor little room. She was careful
never TO pass her old home. or go
where she would be likely to meet her
old associates. Two or three found
her out and came to her with words of
love and appreciation. but the MAORI
ty, like Mrs. Etynge, barely recognized
her if brought face To face. and ignored
her whom possible. She cared less than
she thought she would; she even con-
fessed to herself that she would be
happy with her simple efforts at house
keeping, her few music pupils and
painstaking copies of her fathers
translations, if her heart had not ached
with the knowledge that it had awak-
ened to love too late and after she had
put away what might have been its
treasure.
One day her sorrows seemed almost
| too heavy to bear. She was waiting,
in certain patrician music room, for
her pupil, when an older member OF
the family and friend entered, and
continued their conversation without
deigning to notice her.
Have you heard that Mrs. Etynge
is going to marry that handsome
Colonel Grahamp" asked one of them.
mo. l knew that she had been
angling for him ever since she was
widowed, but thought he would have
more sense than to take her. I've
heard that they were engaged once,
but she threw him over for old Etynge.
How she must have felt when the gal
liant Colonel was found TO have made
q fortune from Western lands he
bought when he was sent out to fight
the Indiansr'
Doubtless; but she's all right now.
Some thought he would marry that
little French girl. People used to joke
about his raising wife to his taste"
Ssh ~ said her companion
warningly, with meaning glaco at
Toinette's corner.
The pupil came in, she went through
the lesson-she never knew how-then
home, to weep over the unworthy sus-
picions she had cherished and the love
that came too late.
For days she scarcely dared look at
paper, fearing to see the announce
ment Of his engagement or marriage.
Even her father, who usually, when
his tasks were done, sat like man
blind and deaf to all that was going on
about him, noticed how pale and hag-
gard she was growing.
my child" he said, kindly, ''you
are wearing out, fear. You are not
fit for the life you are leading. Say
but the word, and you can 60 back to
time Colonel Graham was here he re-
ncwed his offers, and said that he would
not come here again, that he could
not, it so wrung his heart to see our
poverty. Shall send to himp"
mo, no. father" cried the unhappy
girl. Il will not go. My place is at
your side. We will not part"
"You are good girl. said the old
man, STOPPING to kiss her. "a good
child" he repeated, softly. 1T would
have been better had given more of
my time and thoughts to you that were
wasted on my ungrateful country. You
have done your duty to me better than
l did mine to you. Remember that L
acknowledge this, after l am gone"
"Are you going away againP" asked
Toinettc, anxiously.
"Only on that journey from which
no traveller ever comes back. Who
knows when the summons may come
for any one of usp Do not look dis
quoted, chcric, am not ill; memory
reminds me that I am an old man, that
is ALL Now, 90 to your rest, and to-
morrow we must devise some plan to
bring back your roses"
When the morrow came, with its
chill and sleet, the old exile had re-
newed his youth, and the roses he found
were in Paradise. When Toinettc went
to call him he was sitting as she had
left him, with smile on his face such
as she had never seen him wear. 1t
was hard to believe that his spirit had
gone on that journey of which he spoke.
The realization did not come TO her till,
after the funeral, she went back to the
awful desolation of the little home.
Then she wondered dimly how heaven
could be SO cruel; she did not dream
that another blow was in store for her.
Her guardian had again besought
her to return, and again she had re-
fused. His hurt, reproachful glance
pierced her heart, but she was firm.
How could she gop She could not live
under the same roof with him and his
bride.
Over and oyer she thought Of it and
tried to be reconciled, but 1t always
ended by her desperately wishing she
were not so young and strong. 1T
would be so sweet to slip out OF life and
| its crown G thorns.
A knock at her door one afternoon
disturbed her morbid reflections.
When she admitted her visitor it proved
| to be Colonel Graham's footman.
Miss Toinette," he said abruptly,
"we've brought the carriage for You.
The Colonel is dying and wants to see
you"
How long the time seemed until she
was at his bedside.
Little Toinettc," he whispered,
iecpiy, how hapPy an " h"'o you
here once more"
How glad am to be hereH' said
Toinette, looking up through her tears.
"Are your We'll, don't cry, my lit
tie love. Don't let me make you I'M
happy, even for moment"
Sobs choked her, she could make no
reply.
"Toinette," he continued, after a
pause to gain strength. IF dic--and
the doctor says the chances arc evenly
balanccd-I want you to promise to
come here to live. All that have is to
be yours, as l told your father long
ago.
"And Mrs Etyngep"--
A flush for an instant dyed the pallor
of the sick mans face. "What have l
to do with herP" he demanded, cxcit-
edly. IL had boyish fancy for her