Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1886-04-14

Who should have been the Rfrrl, pro-
tector, but who was completely fasoi-
mated by the lovers attention to her.
self. (. s.. 3. +.
Mark said but little, to me, but I
knew that he suffered keenly. He
made some inquiries in the city about
Henry Parker, and was convinced that
he was an adventurer. think my
brother could have borne his own bur-
den better if Alice had chosen q man
worthy of her love, but be feared for
her future happiness, thinking her
betrothed had dazzled her imagination,
rather than won her heart.
When we received cards for the
wedding 1 thought of refusing to at
tend, but Mark decided to go, and we
sent our wedding gift, and went up to
the city to be at the ceremony in the
church and the dress reception, after
wards. could not wonder then
when I saw Henry Parker that he had
won Alice's love. He was superbly
handsome, and had the winning man
ner calculated to change her timidity
into trusting love.
And he took the love and the trust
to betray both, to change the love and
to shuddering horror, the trust to
shrinking fear. Little by little the
poor girl reused to the fact that her
husband despised the very gentleness
he had so often praised, and the charm
of full purse was what attracted him
to his wife. Probably a father or a
guardian would have protected Alice's
fortune after marriage, but it was in
her own control, her mother being her
only guardian. And Henry Parker
spent it freely; at first in a profuse
style of living, in luxuries his wife
could share, but later in gambling and
low vice, travelling the downward
path with fearful rapidity.
Six years after his marriage he de-
serted his wife, who returned to her
mother, ard a year later the news
papers gave her the account of his
meath in bar-room. where he was
shot in schufhe.
1t was after year of widowhood
that Alice Parker came once more to
Claymont, her sweet face pale and sad.
and her blue eyes OFTEN dreamily
mournful. She was but little changed,
though older and graver, than
in her girlhood; for her timidity
was, if changed at all, only increased
by the trials of her married life. She
was so nervous that an unexpected
sound made her start in positive terror,
and where the pretty fitting color had
been in her cheeks, there was only an
added pallor when she was startled
The free country life, the pure air
and quiet seemed to help her in re.
gaining something of her cheerfulness-
and Miss Arnold astonished US all by
her tenderness. She treated her nice
like a sick baby, anticipating bee
wants. coaxing her appetite, and bring,
ing her curt sentences, that were usu-
ally like pisto]-shots, down to tones or
cooling gentleness.
"The poor darling!'' she said to me,
with tears in her hard eyes. 'How
could anyone have the heart to say
rough word to her? l could as soon
strike an infant as trouble her, the
pretty dove?
But what was the best medicine for
Alice was soon apparent to me. She
had learned to value such love as
Marks, and she understood at last
what his attentions meant. For seven
years he had kept her image in his
heart, and when once more he could
honorably WOO her he made no secret
of his devotion. She frightened visi'
bly,, the shy, blue eyes looking more
frankly into Marks than they had ever
done, the sweet, musical voice loosing
it's culver when she spoke to him.
Very gladly did I hear that my
brother had won the heart he coveted,
and very sure was l that it was all his
own, with far truer, more womanly
love than Alice had given in her girlish
infatuation to Henry Parker. And l,
who knew Mark so we'll, knew that
each year would but add to his affec-
ton and that Alice need never know
again what it was to fear her husband,
The long bright summer passed hap
lily, and in September Alice was to re-
turn to her mother to prepare for a
quiet wedding and an extended foreign
tour.
1t was the evening before she was to
leave us, that Miss Arnold invited
Mark and myself to tea. We were all
in the parlor, early in the evening,
when q gentleman asked for Mrs. Par
ker and Alice turned very white as she
introduced Mr.. George Parker.
G>Mu h,,Shop I'o hrntborSs sho cold
aside to me. "He was always very
kind to me.'
For few moments after his intro
duction, Mr.. Parker satin embarrassed
silence. Then he said very suddenly:
Il do not know whether my news
will be good news or bad news to you,
Allie. 1 come to tell you as soon as
possible after hearing it myself, that
Harry is not dead"
Alice did not faint nor scream.
White rs death she said steadily:
''Why did he conceal it from meP"
'He did not Intentionally. He was
left for dead, and so reported, after the
trouble in St. Louis, but he was only
horribly wounded. Somebody took
him to a hospital, but as he got better
in other ways, the doctors found his
brain was weakened. He was sent to
an insane asylum, and it was only two
weeks ago that he recovered his sanity
enough to send for me. Invent to MIN,
at once, and brought him to my house.
He asks every hour for you, but l ought
to warn you that he is still very queer.
The doctors say he is harmless, and as
he wanted very much to come to me I
took him out. I should not have left
him in pauper asylum at any time,
but very much fear he will have to go
to a private insane hospital before
long. He is strong and we'll, and may
live for years.
Yes: shall to o: WGther's to hn;n
him to mep,'
There seemed no question of her
duty in her pure heart, but the hope
less misery of her fair face was heart