Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1890-03-28

woman, with one foot in the grave
never once occurred to me.
7 went to COaltOWn, saw my employers, |
and informed them that family affairs ne
cessitated my Immediately relinqulsh1ng
my clerkship. L offered no explanation. /
There was none demanded.
Probably they guessed by my manner
that some good luck had come to me; at
any rate they agreed to let me go. was
able TO wind up my affairs IN few hours,
handing over my stool and desk TO a
young felloW-clerk who, well knew, was
longing to step into my place.
After a hurried dinner ordered car
riage to convey me to Langdale Grange.
1t was about three miles distant; the
roads, being hilly, rendered progress DIFF
icult and slow.
On Thursday evening I quilted the
Grange earlier than usual, in order 20
make arran gements for the marriage
I called on the vicar of the parish, OBJ
tanned the license, and appointed half
| past 10 the following morning for
the ceremony, stating that L wished
it to be conducted with the greatest Pri-
Vacy.
It was between 8 and 9 o'clock when
/ I returned to Glendale House and, as I
| entered the porticO the first snow Of the
! season was beginning to fall heavily.
I went upstairs to the room had al
/ ways occupied 1t was one of those
| called in the Glendale establishment a
! French room" because it served the
! double purpose of sitting and bed room;
/ a thick Algerian curtain divided the
/ apartment into two.
A cheerful fire was burning in the CRATE.
! I turned up the gas, lit a cigarette, and
/ sat down cOntemplatively IN my easy
/ chair.
A bachelor to-day, married man to-
/ morrow I was not sorry to have these
| few hours to myself. Events seemed to
/ 70 f boH
had literally no time for sober thought.
| My mind felt calmer, clearer, than it
had done of late. 1 reviewed my past
life.
! It had been by no means that of saint,
! but 1 saw little IN the retrospect with
which to reprOach myself. In the midst
| of my self Ommuning L began to think
! of Edna. Her image rose ViVidly-so
! Observation-Disclosures my minds eye that
| resented it. I got up inn. tiently, flung
away my cigarette and went to the table
! on which stood my writing desk. l Opened
it and took from a secret drawer-where
| 1 had placed 1t six years agO-the one
/ only letter received from Edna LyntOn.
! It consisted of but a few lines renouncing
me and my love forever, assuring me her
| decision was Interchangeable and asking,
| as the only favor L could render, that 1
/ would refrain from writing or making
any attempt to see her. L answered her
| letter, but that reply came back unopened.
1 made several attempts to see her, but in
vain.
At last, bitterly wounded in my love
and pride, 1 did my best 10 forget her.
How had 1 succeeded? All, how indeed!
Even now, with that cruel letter before
my eyes, 1 owned to myself that, deep
and passionate as was my love for
! George, there was none of the tenderness
in it I had felt for Edna. I started, al
most gUiltily, as knock came at the door.
in I nd hnI
letter in my hand.
A slight, girlish figure stood quite still
for moment within the door then ad-
vanced slowly to the center of the room
I was too much surprised, L think, to
speak. The appearance seemed almost
Supernatural, so in harmony was it with
my thoughts. She came close to me be-
fore I cOull utter a word, and, taking OF
her hat and veil, Edna herself looked up
at me with her sweet. shy smile. The
light fell full on her upturned face and
on her rufded auburn hair.
Jack, " she said, TREMENDOUSLY.
You are wet with snow. You are
| half frozen, child" I exclaimed, and,
taking her unresisting hand, led her to
the easy-chair in front of the fire.
She leaned back YEARLY.
/ knelt down, unfastened her cloak,
pulled of the wet gloves and chafed the
c cold little hands in mine, Presently,
with sigh she raised her eyes, while
faint tint of color returned to her wan
face.
1T is for your sake, Jack, she said
but in tones so low and sweet the words
were scarcely audible.
What, dear? What have you doRS
: for my sake?" I asked, still kneeling
E there and chafng sOOthingly the small
/ fragile hands.
All! this was the Edna I had once
known, whom only to know had been to
love. She was her own sweet self again.
But-what did it mean?
I viii tell you. I came here now to
tell you; for 1 knew you would keep YOU
, promise, Jack. 1 was quite sure you
would keep your promise! I went away
on Tuesday. I am on my road back tC
the Grange now, but walked here from
the station to see-tO speak with you
You have been away?"
yes. Did you not know? But per
haps you have not seen-Miss Hargreave
since Mondav night?" she asked, a CLEAN
of gladness illuminating all her face.
: Il did not know you had gone. I have
been very much engaged, / answered
: vaguely.
1 She drew one hand away, and, stopping
| picked mp a crumpled letter from the
floor. That is my writing, she said. al
> she smoothed it out. How strange tina
> you should have been reading that-tha
-that-cruel letter now, tonight"
why SOP"
4 @Because-oh, don't get up, Jack!
l love to have you kneeling there. It Is
= like the happy days of long ago. You
I don't hate me, Jack-I see it In you
l eyes-although I behaved so badly Il
your"
l Nothing could make me hate you. Ed
ma. But tell me, what is it you have beer
1 doing for my sake?"
< An, presently, but not this very mo
ment. want to make confession t.
2 you first. II have always loved you
: loved you better than my life. It wa
your own father who made me write tina
j letter renouncipg you. That was in you
, prosperous days But nOw-now all i
! quite changed. We are both poOr-botl
j dependent. We are equals. Tell me, tel
me that you love me still"