Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1890-10-11


stopped her, but my intense interest,"
amounted almost to agony, and IN an IN
slant she resumed:
s'He told me a story almost Devohq
belief. That he had always loved me L
knew now. During the winter that 1oi-
lowed our secret betrothal l had writ
ten. in sort of journal form, its whole
history, and my dreams OF the future:
How nv aunt had found access to this
cannot divine, but she did, In some I'M
worthy manner and, partly through hef
anger at my daring to love poor man
and her desire to win me 1or her
brother, she planned to separate US.
She wrote to you first, and after walt
ing to be sure no answer would pc re-
turned she wrote letter for me, taking
the precaution to have it posted at your
place of residence She had so good a
knowledge of our past that both letters
were skillfully written-mlne know
was. | should have been wild at that
time to imagine anyone besides you
knew those facts.
son this morning, when she quarreled
with my husband she tauntlngly told
him she had made his happiness, and
could unmake it; that | loved another
better, and to know how [ had been
kept from him would render me
wretched beyond anything He was
partly armed, in that he knew of my
past love, but her evil work COM
pletely stunned him. He blamed him
self for being the cause of her sin, in
his great earnestness to marry me; he
wanted to die, that he might give me
back my freedom.
after while he began to improve. L
caught eagerly at the idea OF going
abroad again; then should never meet
you. He did not entirely recover; but
no one in full health could have been
less selfish and exacting. We were hap
neither could disguise the fact that it
was circumstances and not choice that
united us. In his dying moments he
pronounced it right that you should
know the great wrong done you by a
hand not mine.
For year dwelt on there in sight
of his grave. Then | returned to
my native land. By the merest acct
dent l heard you had come to East
brook, vet | did not dream of your
voice being the first to welcome me; Of
watching with you the night before an
other wedding-so like that time"
"God forgive men' / said. throwing
myself at her feet. tits right that you
should despise me, learn to hate me;
and you will when you know that this
wedding is mine; that have been weak
and wicked enough to let you relate this
story when my first thought was to
crafty the resentment of your supposed
talseneSs."
''God will help us both to bear our
sweetness in it. Tomorrow | shall
see her-if | love her [ will be con-
tent"
She essayed to rise, but the next in
slant I held her In my arms, insensible.
Was it wrong to kiss that dear mouth
with a tenderness / should never use
again in this life?
Aunt Emily came in from the next
room, hardly less white than Irene.
"Was it true 2" she asked, in fright
ened tone. 81 did not mean to listen; [
hardly knew what was doing. And you
loved her them"
eyes" l answered huskily. 'Let me
take her to her ROOM"
In that very apartment where she and
Emily had dressed themselves for the
bridal party laid her on the bed. [ saw
her eyes unclose; then [ left her, and
went to the hard battle straight in my
way.
We all met at breakfast. I could have
imagined our new guest was still Irene
Ella and Dora laughed heartily at their
having slept through the arrival
Mary owned to having heard some
noises. I think after awhile she began
to suspect more than appeared on the
surface. We all fingered around the
table, as if some spell held us. At last
| broke it by retiring to my room. [
leaned my head on the table and COW
cred my face with my hands and asked,
vainlv, as [ had done all through the
night. What was right-what was just?
1t was nearly noon when L heard
Mary's knock at my door and babe her
enter. [ could see she had been weep
ing. | held out my arms for her, but
she seated herself beside me and in a
low, agitated tone began the converse
ton.
She had heard all the storv-part
from Aunt Emily, the rest from Irene
and in her quiet, determined manner
pointed out the only course right for us
all. 1t was useless to argue. / found
her immovable; and then she brought
Irene to me and left us alone.
And SO a quiet wedding quickly fol-
lowed, but with change of brides. The
bridal ceremony was performed by the
young clergyman, Maurice Gordon, who
used to visit often at my aunt's, and
who was we'll acquainted with the de-
tails of this story.
Irene and | uttered our vows with
honest and true hearts; then l turned
and kissed the sweet lips that were
mine 'from this day forward" and our
lifelong happiness began.
of