The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1890-02-07
in. city. My reco'... !. and
very distinct about il. -

FnfA6lolk .C.arx xqsrE fSyj5L. z
5 !. i'm a city. My reco'I. !. and
: very distinct about it.
Ihe snarling, morose laborer whom
you knew as Tom Bryson, and who has
gone to SO fearful an account was the
miserable wreck OF my noble father of
those old days, Newland Wendell by
name.
Misfortune overlook him in the city.
He fell from his high position in bu,i
ness and society, he lost his wealth,
ne was once tried for crime. I never
knew correctly the true story of that
sofrowful time, but have often heard
my father bitterly say that he was far
more sinned against than SHINING. and
Z that Mason Belmont-your own father,
Randall-was responsible for his ruin
And have heard him saw that the
elder Belmont was the merciless cred
ltor who stripped him of all his prop
erty, when little forbearance would
have brought him his due, and made a
man again of the poor, distressed
debtor.
You, Randall, may perhaps know
where the truth is. ins.all .thia----I.se.
not pretend to. / only know that our
misfortunes killed my dear mother, and
that my father and became much as
.outcasts.
have told you that promised that
mother in her dying hour that would
always be faithful to my father, and
ever love and obey him. That is true.
And you have wondered how that
promise could constrain me to give my
hand to Edgar Van Wyck, whom did
not love and to reject yourself, whom
II did love Eyes, may as we'll confess
It'll. at the bidding of my father.
You might well wonder. The rea-
son gave you was not the real one
Not but that Eave been true to the
memory of that saint in Heaven, my
own dear mother! Not but that 1
wished to keep the pledge had will
ingly given her in her dying hourl
But she never foresaw how brutified
her once noble husband would become
with the years. She never anticipated
that he could become so cruel as to re-
quire me to wed, and not to we'd, ac-
cording to his selfish will.
No! There was mother reason for
what l SO strangely promised to do
for what 1 have, with equal strange
ness, declined to do.
10 you remember, Randall, when
you met me in the old house last Octo-
ber? How you thought you had met
me somewhere before how I coldly
told you that yo were mistaken?
In fact, 1 recognized you at once.
When last saw you in the city you
were fifteen years old, and L had not
forgotten you.
But dared not tell you so. It was
not only that / knew that my fail! 4
wanted to conceal our identity; there
was another reason!
\ And now, as the shadow of that
dreadful explanation obscures the char,.
acters / ani trying to " 81 appeal to
YOU, Randall, to do mo .astice. L have
done no wrong. Sometimes it has
seemed to me as il woman never srf-
fered as j have; but my burdens have
been laid upon me by others; am
Innocent!
On that day, last October, you came
to the old house with the officers of the
law, to seu u for clews IN help you
find your father. who Ia Ia. %, er ously
disappeared.
Your feet trod on the very brink of
discovery, and you never suspected it.
The robber and the murderer con-
Quoted you abo1t the house, and you
did not knoy it.
You walked through the sitting.
room; the money for which your father