The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-04-24

~ ~~~eN~S
women.
The dead George had really been almost
an ideal husband. He had never wearied
Of her or she Of him. and in the whole
course Of their married life he had never
| given her an unkind word. AS faithful
women will. she cherished the memory of
his negative and positive virtues. She had
always thought him king among men, and
now, except IN her own boy, he had no peer
In the world. 1t was natural-in a woman
of her temperament it was inevitable, She
had always looked with extreme distaste on
the mere thought OF a second marriage, and
at the time of Hstheridge's former proposal
to her she had shruuk from it as from
sBcrilege to the dead. Had she herself been
alone concerned there is hardly any ex-
tremity conceivable to which she would
rather not have submitted than this. But
all the world over women show this aston
Ishing trait Of charRcter-give them an OPP
porJuli to be miserable for the sake Of
securing happiness to anybody they really
love, and they will seize it as avidly as
man will seize his own selfish pleasure. If
the sacrifice she was making had not caused
her the intensest pain. it could have
yielded no such satisfaction as it afforded
her. She found a delight In her own agon-
lied repulsion, because 1T was endured for
her dead husbands chid-the child she had
| borne and sucked and tended, and who at
last had taken the place Of her husband in
her heart Had her sufferings been less
than they were, they would have seemed
unworthy Of him.
Woman is not merely paradox, she is
congregation OF paradoxes The theme is
| old and thousands and thousands of voices
have chanted it; but there is nothing In the
| wide world so altogether holy and splendid
| as maternal love. The one thing next
sacred to it, but infinitely less common, is
the reverential worship and whole~hearted
sacrifice which widowed love can offer to
the vanished object of 1t. Only a woman
could have slain the second to serve it as a
burnt-otfertng an the altar Of the first.
George met her at the Wellsted railway
station and embraced her publiclY.s He
pressed her for history Of the interview,
and that, Of course, his mother would not
and could not give. She had resol we'd on a
pious deceit already. George should never
guess. if she could help it, that her coming
| marriage was in any way associated with
| the securing of Hetheridges consent. 1t
| should look like an independent transaction.
| and should have all the appearance of be-
| ing entered into of her own free will
She wrote to Hetheridge TO that express
| effect next day:
Dear Mr.. Hetheridge," the letter ran, 81
| have been thinking very anxiously over
what you said to me the day before yester-
| day and have come to think that it would
not be right in me to stand in the way of
|
marry again. and / am honestly afraid that
you will find me a bad bargain, though
| shall try to do my duty. | must tell YOU
one thing, for that is more In my mind than
all the rest, George must never be allowed
to think that my marriage has anything
whatever to do with his. II he thought
| that he would be very unhappy. / know
this seems to say that l accept your offer
for his sake aud not for yours or mine
| Dear friend, | should be sorry to pain YOU
| but this is the truth and il is best OBJ, far
| best, that you should know it. | will do as
/ you wish but could never bear deceit and
| If we are to be barely comfortable with
each other we shall have to understand one
another plainly from the beginning. l
| know this is not such letter as you would
wish to have, but l cannot write otherwise.
| hope that your health is good. l have
seen your daughter and your consent has
made her very happy. am sure they love
each other dearly. No more at present from
yours respectfully, ELLICE REDWOOD
Before this letter was dispatched, George
| had naturally seen EIlice and had conveyed
to her the glorious tidings, little dreaming at
what IA sacrifice his own happiness was be-
| ing bought. The girl queened it, in her own
way, in the house of the Rev. Jordan Far
rell. She had the daintiest and most luxu-
rious little boudoir imaginable, and her pri-
| vate parlor for the reception of her friends
The rest of the establishment was rather
gaunt in aspect, the reverend gentenan's
| ideas being severely ecclesiastical even as to
| the furnishing of the domestic interior The
hall with its cold shining oil cloth, its cler-
| ical hat stand, and the chill polish of its
square cut mahogany chairs, gave the visi-
tor the impression of the vestibule to a
| chapel of little ease, and the library and
drawing room were yawning deserts of I'M
| compromising leather and hard wood The
| lamps were all of the church pattern and of
beaten brass, and the salver on which a
| visitors card was presented was like the
plate employed at church collections.
| Ellice's rooms were in absolute contrast to
the frozen formalitv of the house. Hether-
| idge's unrestrained had provided money in
| abundance, and the girls own taste had
done all the rest. A chGque oiSedu, son mid
est beau. But Ellice had genuine right to
be proud of her own nest, and her lover,
who, who since the days of early boyhood
had never been privileged to visit
it. though quite properly and naturally that
he had seen no apartment in his life so
| charming. The perfume Of his sweet
| hearts presence seemed to exhale from
everything in this delightful little room,
and whilst he awaited the arrival of its
mistress, he inspected it with sort of
awe and reverence. In the middle of his
examination Ellice entered, all smiles and
| bushes
II have news" said George, reioicingly.
my mother has been to London and came
back an hour ago. She has seen your
father, and Ellice, what do you thinkp'
He Lad begun 50 beamlngly that his at
tempt to draw long face now and to
adopt tone Of misery was comically inept
and undeceptive.
"What am l to thlnkm she asked.
"You are SO think" said George, that
am the luckiest, happiest fellow in the
whole wide world, aad that you are the
dearest girl"
Il trust" said the dearest girl, that I
shall always have the sense, in certain
cases, TO do as l am told. Since l am to
think those things, l will try to Chink them.
Papa consents?'
! HE consentsn
"This is ominous,' she said gaily. 1.-THE
course of true love never did run smooth"
Perhaps it has done once or twice.
George urged, laughing perhaps we may
be the exception which proves the rule
They sat down side by side, and George
possessing himself of her hand, talked Of his
hopes aud plans
You see. dear" he began, my mother
has done everything for me already that l
can reasonably ask or expect, and in point
Of fact, good deal more. l must 60 out
into the world and make nv way"
You are not going to that horrid Bel
! pium (TaOrQap Criad 1ha GIRL