The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1892-07-06

Poor tickle Clara did not feel e1ated
over her fortunate choice. Georges
love was sincere, there was no doubt
about that. With sad heart she wrote
a letter of explanation. asking his for
giveness and expressing the hope that
he would find some one more deserving
than herself
George received the letter like a
thunderbolt 1t seemed to benumb all
his faculties. He lost his capacity for
business and censured himself for the
insane security with which he had re-
garded the tacit understanding, but he
did not blame Clara
Gradually he recovered his old bust
ness methods and as time passed his
hoard of worldly goods grew in pro-
portions until he acquired the reputa-
ton of rich old bachelor and it was
the wonder of his friends why he didn't
marry.
One day friend remarked that Mrs
Sangers was about to visit her nephew,
Mr.. Pierson of New York, who had
been out OF the country for some years
and had married charming wife while
abroad.
abroad" is very extensive place,
he thought to himself, land OF course
it is some one else," but still he was un-
usually moody the rest of the day.
1t happened not long after this that
Mr.. Steinway was called to the metrop-
oils on business, and, as he was passing
out of the ferry station amid great
concourse of people, he caught sight of
Mrs. Sangers.
She was conversing with a gentle
man and lady. ''Her nephew" he
thought to himself. The lady raised
He started back in amazement. 1t was
she, Clara, but how changed.
There was an air of hopelessness
about her that smote Steinway with a
chill She was not happy, he felt sure.
He gazed at her sorrowfully for mo
ment, and then turning fastened
through the crowd, called cab and
soon was in the heart of the great city.
He had caught one clear look of her
husband, Mr.. Piersop, and in that tail,
graceful, full whiskered man he
thought he had seen the signs of du-
plicity that mark hypocrite.
THAT man is a Villain" he thought
to himself, and then the next minute
mentally added: "Pshaw, it's only nat
ural aversion for him; he may be a nice
man." but still, be as honest with him
self as he might, there was always the
recurring thought: THAT man is a
villain"
Some time after this the papers an
nounced the illness of DIR. David Rut-
terfeld, physician of considerable
skill, but bearing the reputation of a
grasping and avaricious man. AS the
disease progressed it became event to
the doctor himself that he had only a
short time to live. No one understood
the fatal complication better than he.
He was cool and collected, but insisted
on having an immediate interview with
MIR. Wetherby.
1t was with strange thoughts regard
ing the meaning of the summons that
the old man entered the sick chamber.
We pass over what transpired dur
ing the hour that Mr.. Wetherby and
DIR. Rut ,erfeld were together, but when
the old man rose to leave he was all in
a tremble. Il forgive you, Rutter-
field" said he, with broken voice;
''try and make your peace with Heav-
en-
Mr.. Ellbridge Pierson came down the
steps of his fine mansion one pleasant
morning, stroking his sandy beard and
whistling gay tune. He was evident
ly feeling more than usually at peace
with the world.
He was turning down a side street
towards one of the stations of the ele-
waited railway, when a plainly-dressed
old man stepped in front of him and