The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1888-01-26

tenderly and admiringly.
He loves me still" she said to her
self. .'Oh. l am sure of it! Dear
| Harry! he loves me STILL"
And so, when they were in the par
lor, alone together, she put her hand
| upon his arm, as he stood before the
| fire, and said to him softly: Harry,
| you'll not be angry with me if l say
something to you-something that was
in my heart as l sat waiting for you by
that window an hour ago?'
angry with you, Rose!" he answered
| "Oh, nom
And he passed his arm about her
waist, and drew her closely to him.
Il thought, " she went on, Il thought.
| Harry, while l sat there, of our old
lovers walks, and of the Winter even
ings we spent together, when neither
| for moment were weary of each
! other; and then-for / was lonely and
little tired-I though you did not
| care to be with me as you did then,
| and that you had grown tired of me,
| and l made up my mind to ask you if
it was so, and if it were. why? Oh,
| Harry! if there are any faults or fail
ings in me that turn your heart from
me, tell me of them, that may mend
! them, and win it back again. If un-
| consciously do aught to anger you, let
me know it, and l will be all you
wish from that very moment; only,
Harry, do not let me feel your heart
| estranged. Now, when l need your
love SO much, love me Harry. love me
as you did when was a girl"
And the tears would be restrained
| no longer, but poured themselves out
upon his bosom, for he held her closely
there, and spoke in a passionate, re-
| morseful way that almost frightened
| her. Part of what he said was so cold
that she could not comprehend it. But
| while she lived she always remembered
these words.
you are only too good and pure
| and innocent for me. If l do not
seem to feel it as should, it is my own
| sin and not your fault Blame me, if
| you like, but never-never reproach
| yourself. Oh, my white rose! My
spotless blossom! Why am I not
| worthier of youP'
Then he kissed her-kissed her on
her eyes, and lips and forehead. And
at that very moment there reposed at
the bottom of Harry Powell's pocket a
| note written IL wOman's hand, con-
| tanning these words: Il can meet you
| at your office at II o'clock tonight, "
and signed amanda"
Harry Powell was a hot-headed, i'm
| pulsiye fellow, and had been from a
boy, an ardent admirer of dashing,
| brilliant women. When he found him.
| self in love with the mild, fair, gentle
Rose Forest, he wondered how any
thing so quiet could have won it. Still
| he was in love and deeply. Being what
| he was, he would have married
her if all the world had opposed their
union. AS it was, there were no
| obstacles in his way, for her heart
was truly his; and the rivals who
| frowned upon him, and the maiden
| aunts who shook their heads, and
called him a very wild young man,
were disregarded, and so he took her
from the old homestead where she
had been so tenderly cared for, to his
own home, to be its lifelong mistress.
/ At first he had only been a little
| thoughtless at times, and had dried
every tear she had shed with kisses.
For though champagne and cigars,
and Tom, Dick and Harry had their
old charms for him, he valued her
above them all, and she knew it well.
Only a year before, the spell which
| had of late kept him from her side, had
begun to distil its deadly poison, and
claim him, body and soul. He was
| the confidential clerk of wealthy es-
tablishment, and, as such, had at
times heavy responsibilities upon his
shoulders. Important papers and
| great sums of money were often in his
care, and he was trusted as lew men
| are by their employers. They were
right in reposing their confidence in
him thus implicitly; for, wild though
| he was, there was not one atom of the
| swindler in his composition. The keys
| of the great safes were always within
| his reach; and sometimes he was left
alone to receive large payments, and
| to lock them up. There had been a
| time when rumors of meditated
robbery had reached the firm, and he
had carried loaded pistols in his bosom
night and day.
| 1t was at that time, twelve months
| ago, that he had first met with the
woman who had written the note
which now lay within his pocket. A
| beautiful woman he thought her; and
strange it seemed to him at first that
| she should follow him with her eyes
and seem to watch for him in the most
unfrequented places. At last per-
| fumed note came, and he read that she
| had invited him. 1t was daring
| declaration-all the more astonishing
because the writer professed herself to
be wealthy woman and a wife. 1t
| would have disguised many men, but
Harry Powell liked queer adven-
| lures, and had penchant for daring
women. So he met her, and in little
while Rose was only second in his
| heart, while this mysterious woman
haunted his dreams by day and night.
Thus far he had been unfaithful to his
wife only in thought. But the siren
who had bewitched him was to meet
him in his office at midnight!
There had been a moment when
Rose wept upon his bosom, and he
thought of all her purity and truth, in
which Harry Powell had resolved to
break his appointment and forget his
unholy love forever. But the mood
passed; and, with the return of his old
self, came a remembrance of. those
black eyes and red lips, those tender
glances and bold professions of af-
lection. Good, beautiful Rose grew
tame in comparison, and, when the
time-piece told the hour of IL. he
! started to his.feet.
go to bed. Rose" he said, Il have
= business appointment tonight that 1
had nearly forgotten. l will be back
as soon as can"
"A business appointment at this
hour! thought Rose in surprise.
But he had gone before she could
put her thoughts into words: and, still
full of her new-found happiness, she
went upstairs to her own white-cur-
tanned chamber. Harry had been up
before her. and had changed his
dress, leaving his every day garments
lying untidily about. AS she picked
them up a paper iuttered from his
\ y