The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1888-07-28

| must speak to Lady Bowerbank."
Meantime Lady Bowerbank had been
spoken to. In fear and trembling the
matter had been broken to her by good
Mrs. knowle, but there was no need for
uneasiness; Emily evinced not the slightest
sign of agitation. She merely said that
she thought such partnership would be
the best thing possible, both for the firm
and for Mr.. Stenhouse, and that she hoped
it would come about speedily. And then
she lay looking into the sunset over the
sea, with a strange, soft expression in her
eyes.
"Iou are sure-quite sure, my dear En-
lily, that you have no objection2n
"No; why should II" And she added
again. still more earnestly, ooh, no-not
now"
"And by that" commented Mrs. Knowle,
as she repeated the conversation to her
husband, Il am certain Emily feels that
she is dying"
They talked the whole matter over for a
while, conjugally and confdentially, in
their own room, for they had been asked
to dine and sleep that night at Summer
Lodge, as indeed they very often were
now, and then went back to the drawing
room.
There, white indeed as a dying face, but
eager with all the strength of life, lay poor
Emily, her husband sitting beside her sofa
in his quiet, attentive, elderly wey, and
trying, as we'll as he could, to make little
bits oftalk concerning the news of the day
In Liverpool, to amuse her during the hour
and half that he and his guests dined
and she rested alone, for she had now
ceased entirely to join the circle at meals.
Come here, Mrs. Knowle, and say if you
do not agree with me-you women under
stand one another we'll. / have been tell
ing my wife ab0ut that young mans ex-
ceeding folly-your friend Stenhouse, l
mean-in refusing TO enter our firm. 1t
must be a mere crotchet-some offense
taken, or the like, for which we can't afford
to lose such useful partner. or to let a
fine young fellow cut his own throat in
that way. ] want Lady Bowerbank to
write to his wife, and reason with her. She
has right; for Lady Bowerbank has done
all sorts of kind things to Mrs. Stem
house"
Kindness implies no right, said Emily
hastily and TREMENDOUSLY 81 don't know
her. | cannot write to her. What could
/ say?"
Just little common sense-that such
chance as this does not happen to a man
twice in lifetime, that Stenhouse should
take advantage of it. He is very poor. |
hear that he can but Just put bread into
the mouths of those three children. If he
were to join us he would make his for
tune"
Make his fortune repeated Emily,
wistfully. "Ahl if that had been-once.
But it Is too late now"
Too late, my dear! Nonsensel The
young man cannot be over thirty yet"
Thirty one and half.
Sir John Bower bank looked exceedingly
surprised for the moment. 81 forgotten
said you knew him."
Yes, | did know him, as Mrs. Knowle
is aware. | met him at her house / was
once going to be married to him. He was
very fond of me"
quite quietly, without the slightest sign
of emotion, Emily said these words, as if
1t had been fact communicated concern
ing third person; SO utterly divided from
the world and the passions of it seemed
that frail creature, who already stood close
on the portals of the world to come.
"Shall | go away" whispered Mrs.
knowle, and yet she dreaded to do it, for
there was something so unearthly in
Emlly's expression Just then.
"Oh, no, do not leave me. You can tell
my husband anything he wishes to know.
Dear husband! you are not angry with me?
You know l was poor weak thing always.
and now all will soon be over. 1t is far
the best-far the best"
81 do rot understand" said, with dis
tressed air, Sir John Bowerbank.
No, he did not; 1t was not III him to I'M
derstand. And when, in few words, for
her breath was short and her strength
small, she told him all the storv-not that
she had married him without loving him,
for this he knew from the first; but that
Z "a q th1Y 1, Il,
been so cruelty separated; that from that
day her poor young life had withered up
at Its very roots; still-still the worthy
man seemed as if he could not understand.
lie was sixty years old, and the tale be-
longed to youth and love; to a time which,
If he had ever known, had now entirely
passed away even from his remembrance.
He just looked perplexed, and little
sorry, and patted, with a soothing gesture,
the wasted hands that were held out to him
entreatingly.
Do not excite yourself-pray do not,
my dear, 1t is SO very bad for you. Just
tell me what You wish, and | will try TO
do it."
And You are not angry"
About this young man? No, no. Of
course, 1t was great pity. but the thin 1;
happens every day. Don't fret about it,
N'N' "AO very US YOU
ale-at least | hope so.
Yes, said Emily; and her tears ceased.
and her quivering features settled into
compoSufe. No, ne could not understand
TINS good, kindly meaning elderly man,
no more than the tens of thousands of re-
spectacle men and women of this world
ever do understandable full meaning of
love. Love, happy or unhappy, mutual or
unreturned, perfect or unfultlled, but still
real true, heart warm love, which is a gift
direct from Love divine, and which ever to
know, or to have known, is a blessing
which ills whole lifetime.
You perceive, now, Sir John" said
Lazy bowerbank, laying over his her
shruhhen hand, where the wedding-rinR
hung as loosely as the great hoop of dia
monds that guarded it, 'vou perceive why
Mr. Stenhouse is so insensible to all vour
kindness. He thinks himself wgorped.
and be was wronged-cruelly He was
MADE TO believe one thing and | another
ana so we were parted. Please tell nv
husband how it was. Mrs. Knowle: | baye
no strength for speaking much"
Don't speak at all, for where is the
good OF itI" said Sir John, who evidenfIv
dIsliked the discussion of the matter
Ihlngs can't be mended now, nv dear
lie has got wife and you a husband. So,
even II L were to die, it would be of no
use. You could not marry him."
| was not thinking of marrying. but Of
dying. Husband, | am certain / am dyino.
and 1t is hard to die without his HAVING
forgiven me, for he was a good man and
he was terribly wronged. Often. often
thought of asking you, but had net cour-
age Now l have. VIII you do one thine
for me?' 'iiinS
What, my dear?'
Let me see John Stenhouse again for
one one 1af hour-just one ten minutes-be-
Don't talk of dying; You will live MANY
years yet, l trust" said Sir John
earnestly. Onn'
Emlly shook her head.
An You know better than that. And
would not ask such kindness unless wa,a
DYING. 1t is not wrong; surely Won do not
'hink so? added she, impiorinoIv II
only want 10 tell him the truth; thai II vas
not who deceived him; want to sa~s
hlm-Le Is good man, You know-fron,
having his whole life embitterad and 30
future injured by thinking OF me ss MS
wicked, faithless woman, who first Ill.,
nm, and then let her rich husband insnIt