Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1889-12-07

1
silence. When the meal was ended
they withdrew to their rooms.
Half an hour afterward Clara
heard knock at her door. She
opened it, and Irene entered. She
was dressed IN black, and her
beautiful face was colorless. In her
hand she held packet. of letters,
these she held out to Clara.
"Read these, Clara, she said in a
dreary tone, "they will explain
themselves"
She laid the packet down and
left the room.
An hour later Clara entered
Irene's room and found her reclin-
ing on her bed. She kissed her
tenderly.
"My poor, dear, little sister," she
cried, chow you have suffered? So
noble. SO brave! All, how happy
YOU might have beenw
She clasped her arms about the
girl, and for the first time Irene
wept. Her tears, so long restrained,
burst forth in torrents. Finally her
sobs ceased; she raised her tear
stained face to Clara.
81 loved him, Clarap'
IT know you did my dear, and he
loved you"
eyes, 1 think he did; but why did
he not write me?"
"Hc felt he would be doing wrong
to do so when he became poor"
GAS though l cared whether he
had money! 1t is all over now-he
is gone! I have put on this dress
just for to-day. For one day his
memory shall be held sacred"
That evening Chas. Reynolds call
ed. Irene pleaded illness and did
not see him.
Time, that healer of all griefs, flew
ON. Six months afterward the en-
gagement of Charles Reynolds and
Irene Charmon was announced.
They were married, and all the world
wished them well.
Two years passed happily, and a
child was born to them. irene called
him Clarence, in memory of him
whom she had once loved. 1t was
about this time that Mr.. Reynolds
was taken ill and died. His wife
mourned him deeply, for he had
been good, true and loving hus-
band. A year afterward she receiv-
ed a pressing request from an aunt,
living at a distance, to spend few
months with her. e.
She took her baby boy and started
on her journey. 1t was beautiful
day. Nature seemed to have put on
her brightest raiment to bring sum
shine to her troubled heart. She
pressed the child to her breast, and,
for the first time in many days, felt
the weight of sadness lifted from
her. How often she thought of that
moment in after years.
She was received with open arms.
Upon every side she saw the marks
of loving tenderness. After tea they
sat beneath the far-reaching elm tree
on the grassy lawn, and watched
her boy-such pretty child. He
was now two years old. He had al
ready made the acquaintance of the
large house dog, and was leading
him proudly around.
The next morning brought letters
from home. Clara and Madge would
arrive in a weeks time. What
family reunion, and how happy
they would be!
Each day brought new color to
Irene's face, and each moment more
peace to her heart. At last the day
came for her sisters arrival. They
were all at the station to meet the
travellers. Irene clung to her sisters
as if in fear of losing them. Proud
" little Clarence marched along
with the rest. He was just begin
ming toprattle soas to be understood,
and the lavish display of admira-
ton pleased hlm greatly.
That evening Irene's aunt an
nounced the arrival of stranger.
"Such nice gentleman! Rather
quiet, but such a pleasant person.
We met him quite by accident last
summer. He writes ME that he is
visiting friends across the lake, and |
may drop IN upon us at any mo-
ment."
"Ah, that will be jolly" cried |
Madge. "Men are always accept
able"
"You must be careful never to ask
any questions which would cause
him to try to remember any event
which has transpired. He met
with a severe accident several years
ago, and since then has never been
able to think of any past event with
out the greatest anguish. He says