Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1888-02-02
'BEULAH BLAIR.

At the dinner table of the Great Num-
pington hotel they were discussing the
marriage that had taken place in town
that day; strange marriage, when DIR.
Blair's daughter had married man of
so.
Every one seemed interested in the
landlords description of the wedding,
except a man who mad arrived in the
stage few hours BEFORE sad, hand
some looking young fellow, elegantly
dressed.
He seemed to turn pale as they men,
toned the brides name, but noticing
that all eyes were upon him, lifted his
glass high in the air and cried: IA
health to the BRIDE" which was drank
with much enthusiasm by those
present.
After dinner he went up to his room
and there gave himself up to painful
thought. For years he had been toiling
for fortune and had returned to marry
Beulah Blair, only to find her the
bride of an old man of 80.
She had promised to marry him, had
worn his ring and had Tilted him at
last, if what they told him was true.
He went out into the street, resolved
to satisfy himself that she was lost for
ever. He took his way toward the
garden gate, where they had parted
years before.
The house was one blaze of light, and,
approaching the long windows opening
on the garden, he saw her-Beulah, his
Beulah, as he had often called her
| She stood there in her bridal dress,
her rich veil falling to her feet, shading,
but not concealing her lovely face and
hair, and the exquisite outlines of her
| figure.
Returning to the hotel he wrote a
long and bitter letter, full of reproaches
and sarcasm, and posted it and paid
his bill. Before daylight the handsome
stranger had left the town behind him.
He sought in travel the peace which
no man ever yet found save in his own
heart.
He remained away five years. At
the end of that time he returned. He
had left his home-the home to which
he had hoped to return with his BRIDE
lust as it had been arranged, merely
locking and barring windows and doors.
There was a letter box at the entrance,
and into this a number of letters and
papers had been thrust from without,
for he had left no address behind him.
Turning these over with careless
hand, he came to one addressed in
Beulah's writing. How well lie knew
it. She had, then. replied.to his letter.
With trembling hand he tore it open
and read these words:
DEAR ARCHIBALD: Yes always dear
to me. Had deserved your reproach-
es, I should not write these words.
They told me you were married to a
woman of fortune and title--a German
countess. kbelieved them. married
] whom they chose to give me to. ]
thought my old husband kind and
worthy. / respected him. Alas! / can
not do that any longer. He died sud.
denly aweek after our wedding day,
and in his desk found your letters
which he had purl0ined and secreted,
and also proof of the conspiracy by
!, which he forced me to believe that you
!, were married to another. shall strive
to forgive him, but do not know that
it will be in my power. Your unhap-
py BEULAH.
!, The date was that of nearly five
years before. Even at that period he
had loved her still, but he had SO care
fully taught himself to despise and
hate her that the letter seemed at first
to have no effect upon him.
Slowly however, the truth that he
had heard sank into his soul. He un-
| derstood that she hae been the injured
one; that lier old lover--doubtless in
4 completely with her father, though she
slrefrained from saying so--had worked