New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1891-09-16

leave uS?''
II must" Tom was saying; the
words did not come out very easily.
1'Work is had, and things have not
gone we'll of late, and-and- There,
l can't help it," Tom suddenly broke
out; II can't help it, Miss Franklen-
Ida!"
He had seized both her hands, there
was no glove on either now, he was
kissing them, clasping them to his
breast, sobbing over them till his whole
frame shook again.
"I'm fool, I know" he choked out,
81 meant not to have done it-Imeant
not-I am fool!',
"Tom, good, kind old Tom," Ida
said, little less shaken herself; "a fool
for caring for me, Tom? a. fool for not
sickening at the portland! Oh, Toni"
They were crying together and Sob
blng all in a promiscuous sort of med
ley, each crying down in spasmodic
language any depreciation of the other.
'"Iom a fool? never''
'"The dear, dear hand, he had ever
worshiped it, This, with renewed
caresses and cherishing of the deform-
ed limb, which did not always appear
so horrible as we once described it.
> SO the secret was out-the hard
handed printer and the courted prima
donna knew now that the old play
mates had been true, through all, to
the first love; the standardization, the
jealous fears, the dread OF scorn, all
were over. 1t was always a puzzle to
Tom how it came about; Ida always
declared that he would have lost her
If she had not been the Drawer OF the
two, but Tom will not hear ofit-any
more than would her father OF her
again bestowing her talents on the
public ear which he meant, he said,
especially for his own private graft
6cation, and that OF her husband.
He had enough and to spare for ALL
Even if. at the eleventh hour, Ida
should resolve on single blessedness,
Tom Grejous should still have the
benefit of all the capital embarked in
the printing concern, in which he was
to be fairl y launched one twelvemonth
before the marriage.
That was the first arrangement; but
somehow the plausible young man
found means to convince his future
father-in-law of the desirability OF get
ting all straight, and certain things off
his mind; and Mr.. Franklen became a
convert to the idea that, possibly,
business would be better attended to
when the first illusions of married
bliss were fairly dispelled by solid
reality.
So they were married, and, by way
OF insuring a happy termination to
our acquaintance with the old play
mates, suppose we leave them in the
honeymoon.
1t was no small addition to her
happiness that Nelly owed it in some
degree to the intervention Of her for
Eler acquaintance, Agnes Chaunce.
She welcomed her. warmly to her
home-how different from the one
where last they had met! and Ida,
though her recollection of Agnes was
but slight, was earnest in her return
OF the poor wOman's warm express
sions OF affection.
"Did l not always tell you it was
no ghost?' she said, when they had
talked together over all the wondrcus
chances OF the past.
Reluctantly, rather, she told of the
reason which had occasioned her quit
ting her home so suddenly.
ut was while my father lay dying"
she said, "that | met the man Of
whom I told you-my first false lover.
He knew me, and evidently, for some
reason, had made up his mind to have
me again in his power, for he spared
no means to get to speak to me; he
followed me, lay in wait, sent me
notes.
"1ou may think me very wrong. /
knew you would, and never told you
then. But he had been the father OF
my child. l could not forget; l still
loved him. Had he been Free fear I
should have been induced to become
his. But he was a married man. He
lived, knew, very unIhappily with his
wife. Alas! feared my own weakness
the painful longing at my heart for
something to love! While the poor
old man, my father, lived, had at
least an interest in the world; but
when I lost him I could bear it no
longer. knew, feared, that 1 should
fail; and fled.
81 hid myself far away in an obscure
country place, where / Travelled on
foot; there kept myself as best I
could by needlework. But, oh, my
life has been weary one! Often [ have
prayed that the trial might pass from
me, but in vain.
"Then I heard he was dead. came
to London. I tried to find you, for
often felt had been ungrateful in
leaving you as I did. But I believe
NV brain was orazoH
"You were not to be found, and
again I left the great town, where I
had not a friend. I cannot tell you
all I have gone through, nor how my
blighted life has been often so sad a
burden [ have been tempted to fling
| it from me. But I thank God I kept
| myself sinless. thank Him too, that
| have been permitted to see you, at
least happy in this life. -.
tOh, my FRIEND she said in an
earnest voice, while her eyes were
suffused with the tears of contrition,
chow many there are who, in this life,