New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1886-01-20
sad; the normal condition Of the

erstonhaughs musical baritone.
He was standing facing Miss Bosco-
witch and shaking something at her.
i was determined not to lose it, .
he continued. "Who knows? Some
day I may find the owner" AS he
! spoke he came striding towards the
! mantlepiece, where Miss Boscowitch
! Still stood with an air of indolent
grace.
| In his hand he held an ordinary run
away matchbox, which, with half
amused smile, Miss Boscowitch held
out her hand to receive. Captain
Featherstonhaugh hesitsted a mo-
ment, then gave it to her.
'sWe1l! what's in it?'' she said.
Matches, / suppose! Hugh, believe
that you are pIayinga joke off on me-
And then she drew the box from the
lid, and saw within little crumpled,
stiffened, blood-stained kid glove.
AS the kid came into contact with
the palm other hand, she turned dead
! ~ white. A question seemed to form
itself on lip and eye, but no words
| came.
GLOW did it come there?" said Cap
tain Featherstonhaugh, taking the
glove from her passive hand. ''Why
don't you ask, Bertie7'
3'Tell me, " she said, simply.
"Of course you know how narrowly
| escaped the massacre of Isandlana?'
said Captain Featherstonhaugh. "The
First battalion of the second regiment
was, as you know, cut to pieces
EYES," said Miss Boscowitch, me,
chemically.
81 was sent with party of officers
to identify, if, possible, the slain," he
| went on. stOn the bare, bleak field
lay the bodies Of a score of men had
known and loved. To identify them, for
the most part. was all but i'm possible.
saw q Photograph Of Lady My
ing near a wrecked train; picked up
a ring"
Captain Featherstonhaugh paused;
he put his right foot meditatively on
the fender. and gazed at the logs OF
pine which were blazing merrily and
contrasting comfortably with the chill
autumnal light, which touched the
outside landscape with it's own pecul-
lar beauty. Miss Boscowitch had never
stirred from the position into which
she had sunk.
Il found the glove" he continued,
meditatively, "lying at the side OF an
officer bathed in blood. The name OF
the officer was"
Miss Boscowitch had risen with a
despairing cry
WASP" she gasped.
"What does it matter to YOU,
Bertie?" said Captain Featherston-
haugh. ':Why do you look like this?
What possesses you?"
But she caught his arm, and her eyes
sought his SO wildly, whilst her lips
repeated that one word WAS so en-
treatingly, that Captain Featherston-
haugh forgot his surprise and dawn
ing wrath in fear for her.
'"Irelawny, he said, hastily.
:"Trelawnyr" AS ii reiteration were
needed! Il knew it! | felt it! Oh, my
love! This was my glove?" she ex-
claimed, in deep emotion, and then
she fell back into therocking- chair and
sobbed as if her heart would break.
Looking at the bowed figure of the
girl before him, Captain Featherston-
AoAo oiieeo OIL eoAASO !AAA CuA cC4-
timents which spring from sudden
shock. Love and anger fought hard
for the mastery within him. He had
told her, but little before, it would
only make her even dearer to him.
Was it so? A surging, tempes-
tuous passion OF words came
sweeping upwards to his lips. Why
had she not told him the mystery
OF this glove? He moved away from
her, and gazed out with q mighty eff
fort, born of a strong control.
On the rough, wild, solitary moor
lands which were stretching away for
miles, a couple OF large birds were taxi
ing lazy flight in that direction. He
seemed to hear the beat Of their wings.
He was taking in each detail of the
well-known scene of his home life with
that sharpness Of sense which is born
OF q new experience, whether OF pleas
ure or pain.
Between himself and this girl he so
loved lay this small, white, blood
stained glove. Destiny had kept it
safely locked away in it's receptacle,
to bring forth at the moment Of his
newly -found JOY; to rob him OF its
sweetness, by the torture OF this sad yet
in some sort gracious memory.
1t was Miss Boscowitch who broke
the stiffness that seemed to fill the
room after the first wild paroxysm Of
her grief had passed.
''The glove is mine, she said, brok-
emily. II gave it to Captain Trelaw-
ny, to whom l was engaged, on the
eve OF his departure for that terrible
campaign. He was to keep it always,
carry it into the field of battle, and,
on his happy return, it was to be an
everlasting witness and badge of our
love: had not forgotten; but had
let the present overlay the past, and
now, to-day, as if it were meant, am
met on the very threshold OF your
home by this strange, haunting ques-
tion-How did it come there? / ask
it painfully, Hugh, Why did it come
there?''
Still not looking at Miss Boscowitch,
Captain Featherstonhaugh moved and
picked up the poor little glove. which
lay at her feet. Anger and love had