The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1891-06-04

Startled. s.
In January, two great events oc-
CURED. The mills were purchased and
opened by gentleman from New York
named Owen, and the hands taken on
at full time and good wages. The let
ter OF glad thanksgiving that Alma
wrote. in answer to this news told me
another piece of news, not unexpected.
She had promised to marry Charles La
thrope, q young clergyman, who had
taken prominent place in her letters.
She had written to me very often of the
rest it was to her, in the life she could
not find really congenial, to converse
with Mr.: Lathrope, to help him little,
quietly, amongst his poor people, to at
tend the services in his church.
Mr.. Bentley was well pleased. The
father of the young clergyman was his
friend, and in wealth, culture and So
:ial position there was nothing to be
desired And I put down the letter
with. a sigh. had been building an
air castle that the letter shattered.
Mr.. Owen, the gentleman who had
taken the mills, had remained in Star
field only enough to get everything
well started, and had then returned to
New York, leaving the entire control
in the hands of his son Godfrey.
1t had been one of Alma's special re-
quests, on leaving home, that would
take care of some of the sick amongst
the mill-hands, and take her place, as
far as I could spare time, in the poor
Hxy10 ho1p
! ed. And even when the best of all
help came, in steady work at good
wages, there were still many sick,
many too old to work, who needed Wis
iting. And it was in these visits that 1
first met Godfrey Owen.
My first admiration was Weakened by
the extreme beauty of his face, almost
womanly in delicate refinement, in spite
of a heavy blonde mustache. He had an
| air of command, the result, l think, less
of pride than a life of power; the power
| of large wealth and association with
| his father in vast business schemes. He
was about thirty-five or six when he
| came to Startled and took control of
the mills, control at once firm and
liberal, strict in the observance of
every rule, kind in the interest felt and
shown in every man, woman and child
| in the establishment. There was a
great deal of sickness. At once, a res
ident physician was sent from New
York, and free distribution of drugs
| and nourishment established, under
firm rules that prevented any imposi-
ton. Coal was put in every cellar, to
be paid for where it was possible, as a
gift where it could not be purchased.
Food, blankets, bedding were all dis
tributed at the lowest possible price to
those at work, given freely but judi
ciously to the old and sick.
And as l gave advice, pointed out
urgent need or special cases, met the
tall, erect figure and beautiful face
everywhere, told myself every hour
that here was the only man who could
fully understand Alma; do justice to
her pure, self-sac-ificing spirit; give her
the full sympathy and help all women
need in their life-work. This was my
dream the life these two would lead
together, and it was shattered! Why
had we sent our child to the city? If
only we had kept her with us, she
must surely have loved this man.
| She came home in June, the same
gentle, loving girl, and yet changed,
older, more self-reliant, more developed
| by her intercourse with the world.
| Even her dress was no longer than the
girlish costume of year previous, but
raiment better suiting the only child OF
a wealthy man. Her figure was carried
with more erect grace; her face, losing
nothing of it's nun-lile purity, had
more animation.
And before Godfrey Owen had met
her dozen times, l, dreading worse
than had already happened, met him
by appointment one day, and, our con-
sultation over a cottage matter settled,
asked him to walk with me- Very
kindly told him of Allies engage
ment. No thought of coquetry could
, ever linger in her heart, yet her very
innocence and frankness were deceiv
ing him. He turned his face from me
for a mcment, then let it meet my
eyes, pale with emotion, the dark eyes
full Of a hxlf-suppressed agony.
''Thank you," he said, gently, "fo1
what know is kindly warming Il
comes too late to save me; but Alma
need never know that. Could see he,
and not love her? think my whole
heart was hers the first time she put
her hand in mine and spoke to me.
had no right to hope to win her; it was
too soon to think of wooing her; but ]
loved her. You will keep the secret
| Won trneSsed 81 SOOno',
II WILL" said. And you will MOI
think hardly of me for telling you?''
ut was the truest kindness, he said
II know now what must conquer
| Whether others guessed the struggle
he made, cannot tell, but could see
it plainly. He never sought Alma
but he did not in any marked way avoid
her. lie grew very pale in those long
summer days, and his great dark eyes
seemed unnaturally large; but he kept
on in his daily routine of duty and
charity, and Alma was enthusiastic in
praising him to me.
1t was late in the autumn when we
began to be uneasy about Charlie;
Lathrope. He had been in St. Louis
through September, on some business
errand, and had written regularly tc
Alma. In October, his letters suddc1 ly
ceased. For weary weeks Alma
watched the mail, her face growing
daily more pallid and sad. 1 had not
fully realized how deeply her love hat
taken hold of her heart until this time
of suspense. But 1 knew then thai
with her to love once was to love fol-
life.
had not thought of any plan for re-
lief until, one morning, Godfrey Over
sent in his card to me, and met him il
the drawing-room.
miss Bentley is at the village" he
said to me, land l ventured to call te
ask you once more to be kind to me
and tell me what sorrow is killing her
Can help her?'
told him as frankly as he asked.
I'VE have written to the address ir
St. Louis" said, ''but have no an
swer."