Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1886-10-14
His Reward.

when hODerI faytOn asked me iOT u
description of Mabel-'accomplished,
and yet. as modest as violet; pretty,
with coquetry; dainty hOusekeeper,
and yet an ardent reader"
"If you admire her so much, old fel-
low, why do YOU recommend her to
your friends? Why don't you-"
And then he caught his own head
long speech, while his face flushed. He
did not mean to be unkind, and his
eyes looked remorsefully into mine, as |
said, sadly:
''Why don't strive to win her love ?
Ah, Robert, shall go to my grave un-
blessed by wife's love-"
Here, meeting the conscience-strick-
en- eyes, plunged into discussion of
some public topic, and we spoke no
more of Mabel until she came herself to
the porch where we were seated, to be
introduced to my friend. left them
together after q time, aud strolled down,
no, let me write only plain truth here,
limped painfully down the garden path
to the summer arbor where Ihad carried
many a heart-wound before. Roberts
words had stung me, and every pulse
was quivering yet with keenest pain.
He was my friend in college, and had
accepted an invitation given years be-
fore, and came to spend few weeks in
Somerville with me. Our little family
consisted only of three, with her SER
wants, my Aunt Clara, Mabel and my
SELF called Mabel cousin, and we
had been brought up like brother and
sister, but in reality she was only step
daughter to Aunt Clara.
was not born cripple; perhaps If l
had been, resignation might have been
part of my nature. At 10 was tall
STRIPPING, as straight and active us a
young Indian, with comely face, rs
faces go, and the full, healthy possession
of every sense; and already, with my
boy heart, I loved Mabel, and looked for
ward to life beside her as the happiest
which could have been in store for me.
She was but Is then, an innocent child,
fair as flower, gentle, loving, and yet
full of youths happiness. We, Aunt
Clara, Mabel and I, took a journey dur
ing that winter, and in one of the cities,
where we remained for three days only,
the hotel where we stayed caught fire. 1
was still reading when the alarm was
given, but Aunt Clara and Mabel, tired
with sightseeing, had retired early. I
hastened to their room, and had some
difficulty in rousing them. heard
their rapid preparations to escape
through the closed door, and saw fire
gaining upon me. Just as they threw
their door open the staircase became a
sheet of flame.
"You cannot escape this way" l
shouted, pushing them back into the
room; tive must try the window"
They closed the door after me, and
helped me to knot the bed clothes to-
gether. Amid the horrible din around
us the stiffness in that room was awful
to bear. No word was spoken till I
lifted the end of sheet to tie round
Mabel,s waist. Then, with white lips,
but steady eyes, she whispered:
"Mamma first. Quick! the fire is un-
der the door,"
threw open the window and the door
flashed into flame. A crowd beneath
gave a shout as lifted Aunt Clara to
the sash, and hundreds of arms were
raised to receive her as lowered her to
them, while q stream of water was
thrown upon the flames beneath us.
Safe accomplished this first peril and
Mabel was next tied to the rope of bed
clothes. By this time thereon was in
flames, but nv darling reached the
ground uninjured. I saw her safe, and
the smoke and flame suffocated me,
Leaning far out to steady the descent
of Mabel, I lost my balance and fell
crashing to the ground beneath. s
1t was many long days before knew
anything more. was taken to anoth.
er hotel and here my aunt and Mabel
nursed me back to life again. But, oh
the miserable mOckery that life seemed
to me! Misshapen, lame and feeble.
returned to Somerville shadow of the
boy who had left it, Fire and fall alike
had spared my face. The brown curls
the large, blue eyes, the straight feat
ures, were left untouched, although thu
parlor Of death replaced the glow O
health.
Three years had passed since the fire
when Robert came to visit me. Bu
when the letter reached me announcing
Roberts intention of visiting me, .
strange vision rose before me, uniting
the lives of the two who were my dear
est friends on earth. Dearly as / lovet
Mabel, I could wish for her no happie
fate than to be Roberts wife.
There were many walks and drives II
Somerville we'll worth visit, and, will
Aunt Clara for chaperon, these two
spent hours in the soft summer air
driving or walking.
Shyly at first, but in little time
with all the frank confidence of tn
years we had spent together in college
Robert made me the confident of hi
love, meeting my warmest sympathy
sure of my listening patiently to all hi
enthusiasm, hopes and fears. The fear
predominated. He found his advance
met by gentle friendliness whose yer.
frankness discouraged him. Later h
would be provoked, and once he hinte'
at rival. Earnestly and truly l assur
ed him that Mabel had never showl
favor to one above another. Cheere'
by my assurances, encouraged by tn
affection of Aunt Clara, Robert becam
more hopeful as the summer days wor
by, and my first attempt at match
making seemed in a fair way to pros
per. September was with us, and Rot
ert was talking of returning to the city
He had spoken of day still week dis
tant for departure, when one morning
while it was yet early, he came to tn
summer house, where was reading
and sitting beside me, he said:
III am going to leave you to day."
"To-day!" cried, and looking fu
in his face. knew why he was going
II did not mean to speak so soon,
he said in low voice that he mad
even by strong effort, "but met he