The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-07-03

thur w. Brent, into the waste basket. My
pencil fell into said basket and while
searching fol it | happened to see the en-
velopc And to cap the climax | have had
your photograph for year or more"
j" Indeedw | asked Jelly. May L ask
| where you got t?''
DO you remember George Baker?"
Yes" | replied.
George and had once worked in Chicago
together, and we had exchanged photo
| graphs.
Well. George was my cousin. Poor hoy,
| he Is dead now; { have his album, and your
| picture is In it,"
She leaned back in the buggy, grave
mischief in her eyes, as she added
$50 you see, Mr.. Wentworth, [ could not
| possibly be your wife, as | should not wish
| TO live under an assumed name"
had nothing to say. What few wits l
possessed had deserted me. We had
! reached her honse; l helped her out of the
| buggy.
| Wont you come imp" she asked.
mo, thank you," returned. and lifting
my hat, | rode away.
The next day her place at wire No. 10 was
occupied by red-heaird youth. | learned
| that she had gone to Vera, a little seaside
! place, TO spend her vacation.
That day | rendered my resignation. to
take effect ut once. The manager objected
| TO such short notice, but l told him | must
| go; could not work another day, urgent
! business calling me another way. So l
went
That afternoon l called on Mr.. and Mrs.
| Allison and told them the whole story, pro-
| ducing credentials and so on. Ny little ruse
| had resulted so diSastrouSly that henceforth
| determined TO have everything plain and
| above board.
Fortunately Mr.. and Mrs. Allison were
fayorably impressed. and having won them
| over to my cause, | was seized with a sud-
| den desire To take salt water baths, and a
day later | was in Vera.
We met-Etith and where everybody
| does-On the beach. She and her aunt were
walking up and down. Miss Allison favored
me with naughty little bow, but | saw the
red flame into her cheeks
| met her in the parlor that evening, but
-lorewarned, furearmed. She was cold as
| Polar wave. Having been snubbed by
my lady twice in my life, did not propose
| TO run the risk again; | Won Id be sure of
| my ground another time, | thu ught.
| In her simple lawn dress dith was more
| sought after that night than many an heress
| IN lace and satin; but then very few knew
! her real position.
L grew frantic while watching the atten-
tions laviShed upon her. and she managed
so adrotly that l could not See her one
| moment alone.
So week passed ;she gave me no possible
| chance for private interview, and one day
my temper rose to white heat and left
| vera, vOwinS never to look upon her face
| again. felt certain that she had never
| cared for me.
| There is a certain village in New Jers ey
| which l shall call Omro. 1t is half sur
| rounded by hills, and there is no prettier
| spot in America.
a certain wealthy Spectator built lovely
| mansion there. 1t was surrounded by lovely
| grounds; there were greenhouses. and
| everything that taste and money could do
| had been done to make it beautiful This
| place was sold at forced sale and | be-
came its owner Hther l repaired, after
my retreat from California. 1 wrote note
to MI and Mrs: Allison, thanking them for
| their uniform kindness to me-
Miss Edith does not care for me-" l
wrote. land shall not annoy her again.
so my dream of happiness ended. in
| stalled widowed cousin as housekeeper in
| my house, and took myself out of the coun-
| try, had plenty of money aud nothing to
| DO. L scorned to give myself up to dissips-
| ton OF any sort, so | Travelled, ever seeking a
face that should drive Edlths from my
memory, and never finding it.
After nearly three years had elapsed
! found myself travelling westward over the
| U mon Pacific. Some mining speculatons
called me to Colorado. l had outgrown the
bitterness, the anger, OF those first days, but
l mad not forgotten. | sat thinking it all
| over as the train swept along. 1t was a very
| dark nignt, and the rain beat against the car
| windows in sheets.
| Suddenly there was a terrific crash that
| sickenIng sensation of falling, an instant OF
terrible pain, and then-Dlank unconscious
| ness.
The first thing that attracted nv return
| Ing senses was the click OF telegraph in
'strument. l Thought l was dreaming of old
! times opened my eyes and looked into
! those of Edith AlfiSon-older, graver, but
| Edith Enthusiastically.
| My darling-my darlingp I said
"Oh, Arthur, NV love, do you know me?"
tried to put my right arm around her.
but II was helpless.
DO you love me now. dearest?" l whis-
| pered.
Il love you," she answered
| kiss me. then"
She blushed to her temples, but she laid
her sweet lips on mine-and SO we were be-
| trothed.
Explanations came after. She was agent
and operator at the little station at the end
Of the bridge, through which our train had
dropped. |, with others of the wounded
was brought into the depot, and Edith rec
| ognlzed me at once, and had me carried into
! her flee.
She discovered that she loved me after |
! left Vera, and a delayed letter from her
| mother, received soon after, explained every
thing. She felt that she had judged harshly :;
l knew had been hasty, SO the forgiveness
| was mutual.
Mr.. Allison had given mp civil engineer
| ing, moved to this little station on the Union
| Paclhc and gone to raising stock; so il hap
pened that Edith was operator there, that
| she might be at home.
was carried to his house and the care of
| his wife ana daughter was unremitting until
| my cut head and broken arm were WELL
! After my recovery went on to Color ado.
attended to nv affairs, and returned in time
TO attend quiet little wedding in Septem-
Der at MI Aliison's house, in which Edith
| and L were the chief actors. telegraphed
my cousin to have everything in readiness.
and took my wife straight to her new
| home.
To-day she is the leader of the strictly
| select society in the ari,tucratic little village
| have mentioned; and not one of the ladies
who copy her dresses know that she was
only an OPERATOR" or that she and her
husband were first acquainted by wire"