Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1889-11-28

into thriving little town-these were
the sorrowful preludes to q bitterer
disappointment than all of them.
Nellie was married.
Only year before-just one solitary
year-of all those prosperous ten! IL
he could but have knownl
This was the burden of his cry as
he wandered through the grounds and
through tina lonely rooms, and on the
threshold of the deserted mansion,
until the di iurbed echoes took up the
theme, anG the soft wind carried 1t
upon the air-"If | only had known
tiff l could but have known"
Another year sped by.
Ernest May, banker, of Lombard
street, had the reputation of being the
hardest man of business and the most
daring speculator known to the COM
mercial world. Everything he touched
seemed to turn to gold. His power in
the city was enormous.
lie had written q brief letter to
Nellie, congratulating her upon her
wedding, wishing her every happiness,
and signing himself, "Yours truly"
and thus closing accounts, as he bitter
" imagined, with his own heart and
with hers. But sitting in his Office
one afternoon, engaged in the perusal
of an enormous pile of documents,
missive marked ''private" was placed
before him. 1t was addressed in
feminine hand, and he thrust it aside
unopened.
"No, no." he muttered, restlessly;
al have done with all that!'
He intuitivcly felt that it was from
Nellie.
An hour afterward 1t again lay before
him. He turned it over in fidgety,
restless way, and again put it aside I'M
opened.
Still he could not settle to his work.
For a third time the letter was in his
grasp. Now he broke the seal bur
riedly and laid the epistle once more
upon his desk.
"My dear old friend,n it commenced.
He read no more, but leaving it still
open upon his desk he paced the room
fretfuliy. Then he thought of the old
times when he was yet boy, and he
returned TO his place and hurridly read
as follows:
"Mv dear old friend: am sure that
in memory of the past you will assist
and aid me now. | car hardly hope,
perhaps, that you shoul4interest your
self in my welfare, but, for my child's
sake, | must implore your generous
help. My husband is dead and | am
sorely afraid that his extravagant habits
have absorbed nearly the whole of our
possessions. | wish to see every creditor
fully satisfied-yet | know so little of
business matters. | do not choose TO
place our affairs in the hands of a
stranger. Win you undertake the bust
ness for me. feel that | am asking
very great favor, under the circum-
stances, if you only knew. Come to
me, Ernest, for the old times sake
NELLIE"
aHumbled at lastl" muttered the
banker, with strange smile of salts
1HCilOIi, HIS llC lOltitu tiC ANbeci ttNehSNN
ically, and placed it in his pocketbook.
1t was probably the only letter in a
woman's handwriting that had ever
rested there.
A better feeling came anon. Long
after business hours, the concluding
paragraph, written by a hand that
trcmbled as it wrote, showing how
completely Nellie had broken down IN
her sad attempt to hide even from her
self the feeling that controlled her,
"Come to me, Ernest, for the old
times sakel" burned as letters of fire
into the cold and ashen heart of the
man of business.
al thought the account was closed,
but l was wrong" he murmured. 81
must go to her, for she needs my
help"