St. Paul daily globe., 1889-02-09

II am no longer child" she rea-
soned. II can certainly decide such
points as this for mpself.'
And such correspondent! Evi-
IDENTIFY Mr.. Ladd had been silent be-
fore because he had felt his own pow
erS too far superior to such limited op-
pOrtunities for conversation as were
furnished by a ball room. What mar
vels of epistolary elegance of delicately
expressed but most ardent devotion his
letters were! Their length and fire.
quency were the most subtitle flattery;
and supplemented by now and then a
glimpse of the writer's handsome per-
sonality during his occasional visits to
San Jose, they influenced Josephine as
nothing had done before. Alden Ladd's
letters not only wooed but won her.
And so by the following June the en-
agement was made public.
Her parents, who, until Mr.. Ladd's
proposal, had scarcely known of his eN
istence, at first strongly opposed the
| match. They knew nothing of his fam
lily, and indeed nothing of him, except
that he seemed to be prosperous i'll busi-
ness. To Josephine, who had been a
petted child. accustomed to more invari-
able indulgence than was for her best
good, their remOnstranceS were unavail-
ing. If they knew little of him, Jose
phine felt that she knew much. None
but noble soul could write as he did.
His letters proved him a gentleman.
possessed of culture, of fine feeling, of
high principle. He was handsome, he
was rich, he loved her. What more
could she ask?
The wedding was brilliant one.
Every one was there. Josephine, be-
meath her bridal veil. seemed far too
exquisite to be made out of ordinary hui
man clay. Never was a marriage bededic-
tiOn pronounced over a prOuder or
queenlier head. Never did bride be-
gin life with higher hopes.
CHAPTER II.
Not until Two years after her mar
riage did | again see Mrs. Ladd. Chance
having called me to Menlo Park, | took
advantage Of my position as an old
friend, and called on her without inyi
tati0n. A servant ushered me into a
handsome parlor. where Mrs. Ladd was
sitting. In her arms, fresh and lovely.
was the daintiest siX-mOnthS-old maiden
l had ever seen. Biue-eyed little Lena,
in her superfne laces and embroideries
and tiny ribbons caught by golden pins,
made a picture almost as fair as her
mother on her wedding day.
When the baby had been praised and
petted sufficiently to please the most
eXacting OF young mammaS, l noticed
| more carefully the mothers face. She
was altered. Not the beautiful features
they were the same. But the sunny
expression which had been one of her
peculiar charms was now supplanted by
| bitterness which shocked me. | knew
! that she had m0urned deeply over her
fathers death under pecuniary difficult
| ties the year before, over the sale of the
beautiful home and the pittance left the
widow, now living in San Jose with
Mary. who had for. some months been
Mrs. Cottrell. But could find here no
adequate explanation for SO great a
change. Plainly the wife of two years
was unhappy.
After we had for little time carried
Oh the constrained conversation with
which two people kill the silence when
each knows that the other is thinking
of what both are unwilling to put into
words, another caller was announced,
and the child was sent away. The new
conner, who was introduced as Mr.. Sey-
mOur, was not commonplace man.
He was Enthusiastically a gentleman's
son. His manners had the polish which
is gained only by contact with elegant
manners. His countenance had the con-
tour which indicates intellectual power,
but his face showed the ravages of dis
sipation. He had evidently sowed his
wild oats. He was now plainly a con-
Sumptive. 1t was strange to see so I'M
mistakably an invalid making a fashion
able call.
Mrs. Ladd seemed to have lost, with
her sunny expression, her sweet gra-
eiousness OF manner. She was polite,
but not cordial to her new guest. Per-
haps half an hour had passed in easy
chit-chat, when Mr.. Seymour said:
Your friends all impose upon you,
Mrs. Ladd, you are always SO good in
singing to them. / shall not abuse
your kindness by limiting that at this
moment song from you is what most
DESIRE"
Josephine at once arose and moved
to the piano She had delicious voice,
thoroughly trained; but while always
obliging about her music, think she
had the musicians love OF his art, for
itself. not for the praise it brings him.
She chose a little German ballad, by
Gumbert, and poured out her rich voice
in the words:
have one friend so dear,
I've loved, I've loved thee long;
For true friend thoust been to me. o song;
lis through my voice you Spet h.
My dropping heart to cheer you seek,
With me you weep and smile,
And my sad hours beguile.
When filed with care, with doubt or longing,
Still thou art near all to diSpel,
Thou bringest joy when all was sorrow.
Then speak my song, then speak my song.
And when the night comes on,
And life is nearly gone,
Alas. no more we'll speak as oft before,
Yet memry will remain
TO call to me thy love again,
Once more to weep and smile. and my sad
hours beguile.
While she sang, something of her old
bright look returned. l was impressed
with the fact that she was not one who,
in her very exuberance of happiness
turned to music delightfully."- melan-
choly. Her sorrow, whatever it was,
was not confined to the wording of
ballad. The faithful friend of whom
she had sung, to her was real.
| Mr.. Seymour did not prolong his visit.
| l was entirely unprepared for the sud-
den impetuosity with which, as the
street door closed on him, Josephine
| turned to me-:
Sometimes feel that l could kill
| tha t man. His presence is always a
| bitter humiliation to me. Yet l tolerate
| him because | see so plainly that he is
| dying. He comes because he loves to
hear me sing. He thinks don't know
of the part he played in my courtship.
1t was he who made me the unhappy
woman am. Perhaps he believes, be
cause L have all the money l want to
spend, that am happy"
You think it queer that thus thrust
my confidence upon you. | have been
too proud to tell any other-my mother,
| 0rri
| once rejected; or any of the people by
whom I am surrounded. l must ul-
burden my heart to you. You knew me
as a little child. The man | thought |
! married WAS q chinera ,Iha idol I had