The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1889-03-22

Nei upon him as safe and bann,,
hen, ana yet her thoughts wouId &
oaek ana back, like gloomy birds of q,
comat. ahu settle In that cheerless, mis-
Rovorhyn Rhy ~ hensai Green-where, Sir job
Doweroank hnd said. some handsome poe,r
orial must Immediately be erected IN S;s
uhgulsh 1t from the throng of oravas. a,s ~.
ie5t MS wife behind in London for da,
~ otder that she might leisureIy eIam;n
H. t"ther papers, and find out wbetbe
tbo Jeceased-t was melancholy to bes
oIrasI,e H'el 9arrlster. the social diner ont
-boI SPOKEN or as merely "the deceased
nao any particular wish repard;no h;
'. vwn monument; tor EmiIy's husband Wa,
10y 10y kindly very considerate; and in tb;,
sua conJuncture She had been NOR
fnuN "h 10 MIN than for many months be>
one mad bidden him good-bv nm hon,
go no, ne starting by the night mail for Tiv.
np1oi, ana had settled herself aIon. in
sort nf nn uesolate dining room, making a
| inaE;ua feSi ono Less dreary. Thers she BEGAN
after paper-the large desk which had been
the awe of her childhood and the per-
| plexity of her youth. She could hardly
| believe that it was really herself then peer
ing into with unhallowed c"cs. and turn
ing over with unforbiddeh hands, those
| secrets Of which we all have some, and
which we think are safe from everybody,
till death comes and teaches differently.
What MIR. Kendall could have been think
ing Of when he left all these matters
many OF which he certainly would not
have liked even his daughter to be ac-
quainted with-to such chance as now
befell them, is impossible to say. Prob
ably the truth, unseen and disbelieved,
though it s!ares Mt us in church-yard and
street, and whispers to us in every book
or newspaper, that Gin the midst of life we
arc in DEATH" had been wholly unrecog-
niZed by this man of the world, or else he
might have had superstitious dread of
setting his house in order, and contem-
plating, i'll any way, his own dissolution,
Certain it was he left no will, and his
most private papers were found in the ut
most confusion, everything being exactly
as he had quilted his homo on the morning
of his death, to return thither alivo no
more.
With solemn tendeHiess befitting such
an Office, his daughter turned over scrap
after scrap, opened, and looked ut letter
after lettcr, just reading as much as SEEM
ed necessary, and then burning it, or lay
ing it aside to be burnt. A good many
papers she destroyed at once; she did not
like even her husband to see them--theso
relics of a purely selfish life-not abso-
lutely wicked life, bat one self-absorbed
and self-enjoying nothing but self
worship from the beginning to the end.
Lady Bowerbank was growing weary;
the hall clock had just struck eleven, re-
sounding through tho gloomy old house
with thrill that almost made her start off
her chair-she was very feeble and nerv-
Ous still, though her health had been Of
late months n little improving. Sick at
heart, forlom and lonely, she put aside
heap after heap of letters in unfamiliar
hand writing, to bo examined by and by,
when she suddenly came across ono tha'
was not unfamiliar. --
ana F TondsR Rt liz ISing there her father
respondence; probably this was one of the
letters. Mono of them had ever been
shown to her; she had only found out ac-
cidentally that such had been sent and re-
ceivod. Eagerly she took up this one,
then hesitated-Emily's perpetual hesita-
tion-as to whether it would be n breach
of confidence or of duty to read 1t, when,
looking at tie envelope, she saw IT was not
addressed. as the rest OF Mr.. Stenhouse's
letters had been, TO Mr.. Knowles house in
Liverpool, but to Queen Anne street, Lon
don. And the postmark bore a date long
subsequent 10 that unhappy time; date
which, as Emily Bowerbank gaZcd on,
cold shivers of fear ran through her, for 1t
was week after her twenty-tirst birthday.
"He did write, then. l must read it!
must and will" she said to herself; and
for once that firm Il will'-tho want OF
which had been the great lack of her life
as it is one of the greatest and most fatal
deficiencies il any human life or character
-came to her aid, and she carried out her
purpose. Was it for good or for i'll? Alas
the teller of this simple tale-an maybe
many a reader cannot possibly decide;
except that, as a general rule, to have met
open eyed the most binding truth is better,
ay, and easier i'll the end, than TO live un-
der tho blishting shadow of a permanent
lie.
The letter addressed 10 Mr.. Kendall by
| John Stenhouse ran thus:
SIR: Though wo did not part am,cably two
| years ago, beg now TO appeal to you as to n
| gentleman and II man Of honor, and the father
| of tho lady whom | then, and ever sine,
stca lily determined to make my wife,
At your desire, | ab stained from all commu-
| ncaton with her unt.l she became OF aSr,
again for six days following, | called at Your
| house, to sos her and you, and 10 beg pcr!nls-
| sion to renew our cnEaScmont-or rather 10
complete il; for 1t has, as regards myself,
| never been broken; but WAS not admitted
cannot learn anything about her. l have
| written to her; | have watched-as far as Il
| gentleman could rrc?umo to watch laIy-N,
| the hope of socing her; and all i'll VAIN.
| now tako tho straightforward course OF writ
ing direct to you, sir. You may not like me-
but you can know nothing against me Also
| you arc a father. l Gntroat you for hcr sake
| --sho did l3vo mo oncc-nOt to stand II
| tho way of our happiness. That sho IS trn
to mo have not tho slightest doubt Tsh
mo where sho il, and when may SEQ her
Yours faithfully, JOHN STENHouSE
Inclosed with this was small note
scarcely more than scrap, apparent,
written in haste, and was blotted as 1t wa
folded:
SIR: accept your explicit AMI complete cx
| nj