The Ketchum keystone. [volume] (Ketchum, Idaho) 1885-1899, 1886-08-07

wife. would 60 to her, of course
All the bitterness l had felt to-
ward the poor little girl left me
and the love fer her that / had
partially smothered surged over and
through me with renewed vigor.
1t was early morning when
started on my journey, and the
darkness of night was settling over
the world when l reached my DIES
tination.
No one was at the station to meet
me, and without losing the time to
hire vehicle, l started out to walk
to the Merton mansion across the
fields. My way would take me by
the old trysting tree where Dora
had met me so often in the happy
days of the long ago.
My mind was busy as | walked
over the old familiar pathway. /
thought of the girl-now probably
within the pale of dcath-who had
wandered over these very fields,
clinging trustingly to my arm, and
uttering VOWS of eternal love for
me. | thought, too, of the man
who had come between us with his
accused gold and parted us for
ever, well nigh wrecking my life and
breaking the heart of poor Dora.
was drawing near the old tryst-
tree, and in the fast gathering twilight
| saw a sight that sent the blood
flying through my veins like a cur
rent of fire.
Leaning against the trunk of the
tree, clad in a dress Of spotless
white, l saw the outline Of a fragile
female form.
1t was Dora. There could be no
doubt about that. | knew the
graceful figure too well, and the at
titude was just the same as she
used to assume when she waited
for me in the sweet long ago.
Yes, it was Dora. She was not
so i'll, then, as they had thought
her; she had recovered and had
came out to meet and surprise me.
Thus / thought as | rushed on to
meet her. There never was such
JOY as mine. 1t was so great that
| often wonder that it did not kill
me then and there.
l was now close to her, but she
never moved.
Uttering many endearing words
| seized her hands, which were
claspcd before her, and attempted to
draw her TO me.
The hands were cold-O, so
stony cold, and the great brown
eyes had such a strange express
sion, and the face was so worn and
white that | released her hastily |
and recoile1 several feet.
my Cod" was my inward |
ejaculation, "can my Dora have
gone mad? Has her illness de-
throned her reason?"
Suddenly she turned, and, fixing
her star-like eyes on me, slowly |
said:
" Paul, your Dora is dead. You
came too late-I died for love of |
you. Forget me never, O, my |
larling. Farewell, farewell" and |
loiselessly approaching me she
pressed her icy lips to mine and |
disappeared.
Overcome with horror l found
myself in bed at the residence of
he old village doctor under whom
had first studied.
He told me that I had been
ound under the old maple tree in
death-like swoon; that three
weeks had elapsed since then and |
lad been suffering from an attack
If brain-fever, and in all that time
had talked Of nothing but Dora,
ghosts and human cruelty.
When grew strong he said:
"Old fellow, you have had a
ough pull They came pretty near
,illing you, as they did Dora, poor
,irl. She died a short time before
We found you. She was calling for
-ou all the time during her illness.
nd died with your name on her
ips."
He (tenderly)-" And what do
'ou think of the engagement ring l
ent you, Jennic?" She delight
Oh, it is beautiful, In
act, the handsomest one | ever