The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-10-25

Breakfast had been eaten by the fami-
ly when Rebecca made her appearance
in the room which served both as kitchen
and dining room. Her breakfast, how
ever, had been kept warm by the
thoughtful mother. 1t was partaken of
with keen relish. She rather congratu-
lated herself because she had not been
called upon to face John Buck at this
first meal after their engagement
The breakfast being finished, sur
prise followed. Mrs. Bugs laid letter
in her lap, with this explanation:
John told me to give you that after
you had finished your breakfast. / guess
you knew he was going away. His
mother was up yesterday and he was
anxious to get back to his folks in the
east. So he started off to catch the six
o'clock train at Morgan's Mills"
Mother Bugs was busy washing the
breakfast dishes and didn't notice the
look of nnspealzable surprise and pain
which swept over her daughters face as
she heard this news and looked at the
sealed letter
Rebecca knew she could not trust her
self to break the seal and read the mes
sage in her mothers presence. So with
a foreboding heart she went out into the
yard and sought seat on the big block
under the beach tree. There, with rapid
" beating pulse, she torn open the letter
and read:
DEAREST REBEccA-I have gone away with
out the courage to say goodby with my lips,
and you will probably never see John Buck
again. After cur parting last night I could
not sleep; and as lay awake waiting for the
new day to dawn kept asking my conscience
whether had done wise and honorable act
in asking you to become the wife of q poor
farmer you, the educated, refined girl SO fit
ted to adorn the home of wealthy man Of So
ciety. TO the question ny heart whispered
yes, but my head kept saying mol mol And
then and there decided TO not take an unfair
advantage of one whose lonely life in strange,
remote place may have made her irresponsible
for what she has done and which she may.
sooner or later, bitterly regret | am, there
fore, going away, and will not see you for
year-perhaps never. You viii visit your
friends, the Van Wyckes in New York this
winter. and VIII spend the season in the whirl
of metropolitan society, where you are sure to
reign queen. You told me, soon after your
arrival at Morgan's Mills, of this expected
pleasure. know how much you will enjoy it.
also realize how little of that life it will take
to make you despise yourself for promising
your hand and heart TO a rough farmer
1t is. therefore. my duty to free you from any
obligations which your promise and sense
of honor might hold you. Blot me from your
life while you are in the midst of your
triumphs IN New York. If some worthy gem
tleman lays his fortune his name and his
position at your feet, do not let even a memory
of John Buck stand in the way Of your accept
ance; but should, perchance, no such good
fc,sfU Ia yon an Won f,vp he.
unfortunate as to return to your fathers farm,
will hear of it. Then, perhaps l might be SO
unreasonable as to come back to you and once
more ask for the happiness now resign for
your dear sake. But in the life that lays be-
fore you do not forget. that no man on earth
viii ever love you with more devoted, indy
ing, unselfish love than JOHN BUCK
She read it carefully, slowly, and when
it was finished the paper dropped into
her lap and her hot tears fell upon it.
She did not kiss the name. know she
should have done that, as all heroines
do, but as truthful historian / am
bound TO say she did nothing of the kind.
Her sobbing words indeed indicated
that there were weightier subjects in
her mind than the love of John Buck
"Oh. what a mistakel have not
talked to him of that visit since last
July He does not know that Bette
Van Wycke never answered letter that
| wrote her: that have been cast off by
her and her proud family; that am
hopelessly buried in this God forsaken
country; that haven'ta dollar to take
me on journey to the borders of the
state. let alone to New York. And here
must wait year for him to come back
shall die; know shalt Oil he was
the only hope had in this wilderness,
And now he has gone and left me.
Would to heaven had never seen himI'
All the weary desolation of that
young life during the next fortnight
No pen can describe it. She began to
droop. and her prediction that she would
surely die in despair seemed likely to be
fulfilled. But it was the dark hour be.
fore the dawn
About the middle of November, when
the dreary winter was beginning to set
in. u buggy from Morgan's Mills livery
stable drove up to the farmhouse one
day. o young lady leaped out ran up the
path and Rebecca found herself smother
ed in the ecstatic embrace of her ex-
roommate and school chuIn. Miss Bette
Van Wycke.
This vivacious creature had brought
her trunk and remained several days.
really enjoying the freedom OF the coun-
try; and in her companionship Rebecca
began to see many features Of rustic life
to enjoy
Miss Betties trunk was well stored
with presents for Mother Bugs and
Father Buggs, articles of usefulness
brought across the seas
Hadn't Rebecca received her lettersi
Gracious, how careless the postal author
tiles were. to be surel
And it all ended with Bette flying
away to New York with Rebecca under
her wing.
! Obi what delight How the recluse
Of Morgans Mills did revel in those win
ter days at the Van Wycke mansion. 1t
was one gay whirI of balls. operas
theaters receptions, teas, lectures. calls,
shopping, rides and promenades, This
was heayeni She dared not think Of the