The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1891-09-10
A WOMAN'S LETTER.

Lochaven was an ideal place IN
summertime, but Philip Bronson did
not appear to be keenly alive to- it's
beauty. AS he sat in the picturesque
little summer-house that stood in the
middle OF a smooth-shaven lawn
skirting Mrs. Leary's cosy cottage,
there was a frown on his face almost
as black as the clouds that were rap
idly rising out OF the west and obscur-
ing the clear, blue sky. This was
rather surprising, inasmuch as he was
almost within speaking distance OF
the woman who Of all others in the
whole wide world seemed the most
lovely and lovable. The trouble was
Philip was far from sure that she was
also loving, and that doubt was what
,stihed his happiness.
Up in the bay window above him
sat Winnifred Erskine, his promised
wife, and woman in whom the in
stinct OF Irritation largely preponder-
ated. She was writing q letter. Philip
could see her little white hand move
back and forth over the paper, and
the perfect contour of her head out
!lned against the crimson drapery be-
hind which she sat. She certainly
made charming picture, and one
that Philip might have been expected
to contemplate with feelings of pride
and pleasure. Instead OF that he was
angry and resentful.
Wlnlfred had not looked up once,
and she had been there half an hour.
He presumed that she knew OF his
presence, but refused to take any no.
e1ce OF him. Obviously she had not
forgiven him tor his sharp words the
night before, when he had accused her
of flirting with Harmer Terry.
Philip had not sanity temper,
you see; nor had Winifred either, for
that matter: The course of true love
with them had been often troubled
and turbulent.
Philip was frightfully Jealous, unfor-
tunately, and Winifred was a most
provoking girl.
81 cannot stand this much longer"
he SAID to himself, as he watched the
gathering storm. II could not be
more miserable if I were to lose her al
together. She cannot love me or she
would not act as she does, and 1 do
not want a wife in whom I cannot
have confidence. She is perfectly
sheartless, | see that plainly. Then
why do | love her so? Why is it that
the thought of giving her up is like the
bitterness of death itself?"
lie glanced up at the window again,
but Wlnifred had gone. The gusty
breeze was swaying the curtains to
and fro, futtering the loose sheets of
paper she had left lying on the table.
Sometimes the very accidents OF life
consplre against us. Fate seemed to
nave determined on Winitred's un-
DONG She had hardly left the win
dow before the frolicsome wind had
,snatched up piece OF paper and
whirled it away.
1t clrcIed in mid air, rose and fell
Huttee;rlng and floating on the breezy
air tn at length it sank, by strange
fatality, at Philips very feet.
lie glanced at it indifferentlv. It
was covered with writing in a mascu-
line hand unfamiliar to him. He
picked 1T up and was about to put it
IN his pocket, intending to return it
that evening, when his eyes fell on the
words, "Winifred; my darling" and
the initial Ill.," with which the letter
was signed.
Philip was man of honor but he
thought ne was entitled to know who
1t was that addressed his betrothal in
this lover-like fashion. He read every
WORD OF the letter, which was filled
WIN the most passionate utterances.
us testimony was irrefutable. It
oiasted his last hope of happiness.
~ Wlnlfred, Winifred!" he groaned
.'Why have you deceived me? If yon
had told me of this, I could have
borne it; but, oh, my God to fine
you so utterly .falsen'
Poor Philip! He bowed his head or
the table before him, oblivious to the
pelting rain-drops that fell through
the lattice roof OF the summer-house
lie was conscious only of the fata
letter before him, which he knew toe
well had been written by Harmel
Terry.
ttWinifred, my darling, think of thu
unhappiness. Why will you not con
emit to go with me at once? 1t is al
most more than my love CAN bare tc
see you so constantly in the society
OF my rival. The plan I proposed
last evening would be a solution O
all our difficulties. If you would
marry me secretly, Winifred, would
'be content to wait years ere claimed
you. But this probation liz killing
,me -. a.. IT,,
How the words burned themselves
into Philips heart and brain! The
rain that fell unnoticed on his throb
bing head was powerless to cease the
pain they caused. They rang in his
il ears above the roll OF the thunder
that pealed through the air; they
flashed before his eyes in characters