Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1886-08-25


Great MumpingtOn Hotel; the travellers
alighted-amOng them a striking looking
man, in "A handsome coat, that, with its
length and breadth OF shoulder, its fur
cuffs and fur collar, gave him something
of Russian aspect. lie was handsome,
elegant, and about 30 years of age.
Been to the wedding, Mrs. CrosbyY'
he said. "And did it not go off well?
And was the bride as pretty and the groom
as unimportant as usual? A man is
never so entirely overlooked as at his own
wedding, unless, indeed, his mother is
there to wonder why so fine fellow chose
such girl" --~f
HE, ne ~ laughed Mrs. Crosby. "What
man you are for Jokes, Mr.. FELTON,!
Well, his mother wasn't there, | assure
you, for she must be tDoOld to get about,
il she's living. He's eighty, l am told.
To think OF woman OF twenty-five &C
cepting such an old creature"
but he's RICH" said Bpniface. "She'll
be darling widow In year or so. One
of our bellies, SIR" he said, addressing the
stranger of whom we have spoken. "Miss
Beulah Blair, DR.. Blair's only daughter,
AS pretty young lady as the sun shines
on"
Every one at the table noticed the
strangers face as this communication
fell on his ear. His ruddy color faded,
though smitten with death; for moment
he did not speak.
The blood rushed backlto hisfaee final
ly. SksEk{Bf
lie lifted the glass at 6s plate IN the air.
"A health to the bride.3' he cried, land
long lite to the bridegroom"
They drank the toast, one or two of them
forming the opinion that this fur-coated
stranger was some great tragedian, who
had resolved TO astOnish them.
They dispersed away to their own duties
or pleasures when the meal was over. He
assembled to the room to which his lug
gage had been carried. His sudden pallor
had been no actors trick. The blood had
forsakeu his cheek at the bidding of a ter
rible emotion. From distant lands, where
he had toiled for nine long years to win
fame and fortune, he had returned,
crowned with success, to marry precisely
this Beulah Blair--this bride of the old
man of eighty. She had vowed herself to
him, worn his ring, written him the tend
crest OF love letters, and Tilted him at last
that Is, II these people spoke truth. lie
was not one to 20 away without making
sure that there was no mistake about that
Wrapping himself up In his fur coat he
stalked out Of the house into the long viii
lage street and took his way toward the
| well-knowu spot-the garden gate-from
him depart, reproaching him with his au-
| dacity in counting his only daughter-he,
| poor and young aud without prospects.
But she had met him in the bit Of wood
land they knew so well and vowed tldeli-
! ty. Was this the end oft all?
! So it seemed. The house was all ablaZe
with light, and approaching the long win
/ dows which opened on the garden he saw
her-Beulah his Beulah, as he had so
| often called her.
She stood there IN her bridal dress, her
rich veil failing to her feet, shading but
not conceallng her lovely face and her
hair aud the exquisite outlines of her
| figure.
Returning to the hotel he wrote long
and bitter letter, full Of reproaches and of
sarcasm, posted IL and paid his bill. Be-
fore daylight the handsome stranger had
| left the town behind him. He sought in
travel the peace which no man ever yet
| found save in mis- own heart.
He remained away five years. AT the
| end Of that time he returned. He had left
| dis hOme-the home to which he had hoped
to return with his bride-just as it had
been arranged, merely locking and bar.
ring windows and doors. There was a
letter box at the entrance, and into this a
number of letters and papers mad been
thrust from without, for he had left no adj
dress behind him.
| Turning these over with a careless hand
he came to one addressed in Beulah's
writing How we'll he knew il! She had.
then, replied TO his letter. With trem-
bling hand he tore 1t opon, and read these
! words:
! DEAR ARCgIBALD-Yes, always dear To
| me. Had deserved your reproachps shou III
not write these words. They told me Won
| were married To woman of fortune aud title
II German countess. believed them.
| married whom they choose TO give me to- |
| thought my OLD husband kind and worthy, |
| respected him. Alas! ! cannot do that anv
loRger. He died suddenly a week after our
| wedding day, and III his desk | found your
letters, which he had purloined and secreted,
and also proofof the conspiracy by which he
shall strive TO forgive him, but do not know
that 1t will DO III my power. Your unhappy
| "BEULAH.h
The date was that Of nearly five years
before. Even at that period he had loved
her still, but he had so carefully taught
himself TO despise aud hate her that the
letter seemed at first to have no effect
upon him.
The train bore him swiftly to Great
Mumptngtcn. The old stage carried him
TO the hotel. 1t was dinner time. Again
the atfable landlord sat at the h. ad of his
| table. He recognized his guest at once.
"Great Mumpington does not change
much, SIR" he said. There was a we'd
ding here the day you spent with us. DO
you rememberY DR.. Blairis daughtt r
married rich man OF eighty Well, sir,
he died within week, and In looking over
| his papers they found something that