The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1891-10-10
A WOMAN'S LETTER.

Lochaven was an ideal place IN
summertime, but Philip Bronson did
not appear to be keenly alive to its
beauty. As he sat in the picturesque
little summer-house that stood in the
middle OF smooth shaver lawn
skirting Mrs. Leary's cosy cottage,
there was a frown on his face almost
as black as the clouds that were rap.
idly Using 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
stiAed his happiness.
Up in the bay window above him
sat Winnifred Erskine, his promised
wife, and q woman in whom the in
stinct OF Irritation largely preponder-
ated. She was writing letter. Philip
could see her little white hand move
back and forth over the paper, and
the perfect contour of her head out
lined against the crimson drapery be-
hind which she sat. She certainly
made n 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 resentfu.
Winifred 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.
tlce 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
ing otOIHl. COulu DOU Ot
more miserable if were to lose her al
together. She cannot love me or she
would not act rs she does, and l do
not want wife in whom l cannot
have confidence. She is perfectly
heartless, see that plainly. Then
why do love her 80? Why is it that
the thought of giving her up is like the
bitterness OF death itself?"
He glanced up at the window again,
but Winifred 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
conspire against us. Fate seemed to
have determined on Winitreds un.
doing. She had hardly left the win.
dow before the frolicsome wind had
snatched up a piece OF paper and
whirled it away.
1t circled in mid air, rose and fell
fluttering and floating on the breezy
air till at length it sank, by strange
fatality, at Philips very feet.
He glanced ut it indifferently. II
was covered with writing in n mascu
line hand unfamiliar to him. He
picked it up and was about to put il
in his pocket, intending to return il
that evening, when his eyes fell on the
words. "Winifred; my darling" and
the initial "H, with which the letter
was signed.
Philip was q man of honor but he
thought he was entitled to know who
it was that addressed his betrothal ir
this lover-like fashion. Heread every
word of the letter, which was filled
with the most passionate utterances
| It's testimony was irrefutable. II
blasted his last hope of happiness.
80 Winifred, Winifred!" he groaned
"Why have you deceived me? II you
had told me of this, / could hav,
borne it; but, oh, my God! to fine
you SO utterly false"
Poor Phillip He bowed his head or
the table before him, oblivious to tn,
| pelting rain-drops that fell through
the lattice roof OF the summer-house
He was conscious only of the fata
letter before him, which he knew toe
well had been written by Harmel
| Terry.
"Winifred, my darling, think OF tn,
unhappiness. Why will you not con
ent to 60 with me at oncc2 1t is al
most more than my love can bare t.
see you SO constantly in the societ.
OF my rival. The plan proposed
last evening would be q solution o
all our difficulties. II you would
marry me secretly, Winifred, I would
be content to wait years ere claimed
you. But this probation is KILN,
me "
How the words burned themselves
into Philips heart and brain! Thu
rain that fell unnoticed on his throb
bling head was powerless to cease thu
pain they caused. They rang in hi
ears above the roll OF the thunder
that pealed through the air; they
flashed befora HE evas !r Character