The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1889-05-24


Col. Graham's wife. 1t was only pity
that prompted him, she told herself.
In New York she took up the bur-
den of existence for the first time. She
seldom saw Col. Graham, though he
often spent the evenings with her
father. She hid herself in her own
poor little room. She was careful
never to pass her old home, or go
where she would be likely to meet her
old associates. Two or three found
her out and came to her with words of
love and appreciation, but the major
ity, like Mrs. Etynge, barely recog-
nized her if brought face to face, and
ignored her when possible. She cared
less than she thought she would; she
even confessed to herself that she
would be happy with her simple eff
forts at housekeeping, her few music
pupils and painstalSing copies of her
fathers translations, if her heart had
not ached with the knowledge that it
had awakened to love too late, and
after she had put away what might
have been its treasure.
One day her sorrows seemed almost
too heavy to bear. She was waiting
in a certain patrician music room for
her pupil when an older member of
the family and friend entered and
continued their conversation without
deigning to notice her.
''Have you heard that Mrs. Etynge
is going to marry that handsome Col.
Graham?" asked one of them.
mo. l knew that she had been
angling for him ever since she was
widowed, but thought he would have
more sense than to take her. I've
heard that they were engaged once,
but she threw him over for old Etynge
How she must have felt when the gal
liant colonel was found to have made
fortune from western lands he
bought when he was sent out to fight
the Indians!"
Doubtless; but she's all right now.
Some thought he would marry that
little French girl. People used to joke
about his raising wife to his taste"
"S-s-hr said her companion.
warningly, with o meaning glance at
Toinette's corner.
The pupil came in she went through
the lesson-she never knew how-then
home, to weep over the unworthy sus-
picions she had cherished and the love
that came too late.
For days she scarcely dared to look
at q paper, fearing to see the announce
ment of Col. Graham's engagement
or marriage. Even her father, who
usually, when his tasks were done,
sat like man blind and deaf to all
that was going on about him, noticed
how pale and haggard she was grow
ing.
my child" he said, kindly, "you
are wearing out, L fear. You are not
fit for the life you are leading! Say
but the word, and you can GO back to
all you gave up for my sake. The
last time Col. Graham was here he re-
newed his offers, and said he would
not come here again-that ne could
not, it so wrung his heart to see our
poverty. Shall send to him?"
mo, no, father" cried the unhappy
girl. II will not go. My place is at
your side. We will not part"
"You are good child, said the old
man, STOPPING to kiss her. "a good
child" he repeated, softly "It would
have been better had / given more OF
my time and thoughts to you that
were wasted on my ungrateful coun
try. You have done your duty to me
better than l did mine to you. Re
member that 1 acknowledged this
after L am gone"
Are you going away again2" asked
TOinette, anXiOusly.
"Only on that journey from which
no traveller ever comes back. Wht
knows when the summons may come
for any one of us2 Do not look dis
quieted, dear; I am not i'll; memory
reminds nae that 1 am an old man
that is all. Now go to your rest, anC
tomorrow we must devise somePlar
to bring back your roses"
When the morrow came, with it.
chill and sleet, the old exile had re
newed his youth, and the roses h
found were in Paradise. Wher
| Toinette went to call him he was
sitting as she had left him, with {
smile on his face such as she hat
never seen him wear It was hard t.
believe that his spirit had gone OF
that journey OF which he spoke. Th'
realization did not come to her till
after the funeral, she went back t.
the awful desolation of the little home
Then she wondered dimly how HEAVIER
could be SO cruel; she did not dream
that another blow was in store for her
Her guardian had again besough
her to return, and again she had re
fused. His hurt, reproachful glanct
pierced her heart, but she was firm
How could she go! She could not live
under the same roof with him and hi
| bride.
Over and over she thought of it, anC
| tried to be reconciled, but it Away
ended by her desperately wishing sh,
were not so young and strong. l
would be so sweet to slip out Of lift
| and its crown of thorns.
A knock at her door ono Afternoon
disturbed these morbid reflections
When she admitted her visitor, i
proved to be Col. Graham's footman.
"Miss Toinette," he said abruptly
"we've brought the carriage for you
The colonel is dying and wants to SCI
you"
How long the time seemed until sh'
/ yUaa of his bedsidet