Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-12-02

able as chllds Long years Oh
sorrow and remorSe changed him from a
demon into an angel
The stranger ceased, went to the stone that
marked his fathers grave, rested his hand
softly upon it for a moment, and then re-
turned and went on:
'Perhaps l might never have known the
story of his life mad 1 not come to crisis in
my own. 1 had been a close student
throughout my youth and early manhood,
and had been so little in society that it had
never happened to me to see a woman to
care for her until I was over 80 years old,
when, suddenly, as things do happen some
times, l became interested in two women
at once. One fascinated me, while at the
same time 1 knew that she was too shallow
ard heartless; the other,-well, she is all
that heart can wish. To make the story
short, my father saw the net in which l
seemed hopelessly entangled and the sure
destruction l should meet if went on.
With the prescience of the spirit when near
its release, he knew that was suffering, my
doubts, my temptation, my desire and yet
my reluctance to be free from the false love,
and my feebler but growing wish to love the
one ] could also respect. He called me to
hint was the very day he died-and said:
MY boy, my boy, nothing will do but love,
nothing but love- Aud then ne told ne the
story Of his early life and of nv mother, and
saved me-yes, he saved me from my tempta-
ton.
my father was an only child, and
thoroughly spoiled child. From his earliest
infancy he had his own way in everything.
AS he grew older he came to think that the
whole world was his on demand, and that
everything and everyone must and should
bend to his will. His brilliant intellect
went far to confirm in him this belief, for at
school and college he stood foremost in his
classes, won all the prizes that he conde-
scended to compete for, and was the con-
quering hero of every circle in which he
moved. Everything he wished for he OBJ
tanned, until he came to believe that nothing
could Withstand him, and that, if he chose,
he could rule the world. With a brilliant
future, in imagination already present, he
fitted himself Tor the legal profession in hall
the usual time, and entered upon the prac-
tice of the law With prospects of unusual
success.
sit was at this point that there came the
period in his life which NAV be called the
high-water mark of his audacity. A num-
Der of his college companions were with
him on certain occasion, talking of their
several plans and prospects, my father as
usual vaunting his own as superior to all
others, when one of the number, who had
always been envious of him, offered to bet
any sum that my fathers luck would change
within year. My father at once caught up
the gauntlet thus recklessly cast down, and
offered to wager any sum that there was
nothing in reason that any one of them
could mention which be would not conquer,
and conquer too within year.
Now it happened that there then lived
here in Mendon a very beautiful girl, one
of the rare sort that one sees only once in a
century or so, the sort that Helen of Troy
must have been, or Cleopatra perhaps,
though Mary De Long was fair and small
they say, rather than of the regal type. She
was fabulously rich also, and had at her feet
not only the whole rural population of Men,
don, but also the youths and bachelors of
the adjoining city and of the whole country
around. Nothing could better meet the re-
quirements of the young men who wished
to humiliate my father than to have him
fail in love affair. Accordingly, when he
offered that audacIous wager it was
Immediately accepted. and he was
to marry Mary De Long
within two years. None of them believed
for moment that he would undertake
such task as this, far less that he would
succeed. But my father, nothing dauuted,
calmly accepted the challenge, and made
arrangements that very day 10 remove to
Mendon.
'You must remember that up to this time
he had never once failed in anything he had
that he believed himself irwin
chile, and, more than all, that no idea of
the possibility of his failing to do anything
he chose, not only with himself but with
everyone else, had ever entered his head.
With the spirit of a eonquering hero, there
fore, he entered Mendon-descended upon
it, l might better say-to see and to con-
quer being in his mind foregoue conclusions.
And so far as the world was con-
cerned he did conquer He was sue
cessful here as elsewhere. His first
entrance into society marked him its leader.
The young men gave way before him, the
girls secretly adored him. He met Mary
De Long before a week had passed; and
the woman who had rejected scores of
suitors was conquered BY this man. And
be alone was not her lover. For how was it
with him? He was disappointed in Mary
De Long and, try as hard as he could. he
did not, could not, love her. This dilemma
had not occurred to him. He had supposed
that she must be what everyone said she
most beautiful of women. And
possibly she might have been this to him. as
we'll as to all others, if it had not happened
TO him to see, on the very evening he first met
her, another woman, who to him was far more
beautiful. In fact, when he entered the
room on that first evening, his first glance
fell on this other girl; and he took it for
granted, since she was the most beautiful
girl he had seen, that she must be Mary De
Long, Here was an unforeseen difficulty.
His pride and his desire, for the first time
in his life, were opposed. He met the other
girl everywhere, dreamed of her, soon adored
her, while ostensibly paying court to the !
beautiful helresS. He was disgusted with
himself for loving this penniless, obscure
woman. How the fellows would taught |
But they should not laugh, for they should |
never knowl So his pride won. He |
'tifed his love, or he believed he did. and |
committed the double sin of marrying |
he woman he did not love, while |
promising before God to love and cherish |
Ter, and of turning from the woman |
be did love with his whole heart, when he |
Knew, by the look in her pleading eyes, that
he, too, loved him.
'The wager was won. Once more he had |
but he had not conquered him. |
eli. From the moment the minister pro-
bounced them man and wife, he began to
late, not himself, the true culprit, but her.
he innocent victim. He neglected her
rom the first, and-the story is too painful
o tell-she died in year of broken heart.
or she loved him.
Hardened instead of softened by this ex-
erience, he waited hardly year before he
RED to win the woman he loved-yes. really
owed, after his way, even then. She had
oved him before, and mourned for
i'm; what wonder, then, that Mary
Tarland yielded to his entreaties and be-
anne his wife? Here was another success
or the hero, conoueror again as ever. He
-as completely happy, but, alasI still the
anne imperious, commanding nature as be-