San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1893-11-14

There is something awesOme in watch.
ing nature, alone with night, when one
is sad especially.
Miss Penelope shuddered, went back tC
her bed and dreamed bad dreams until
morning. She awakened late. Winsome
had prepared their breakfast. From the
pocket of her apron Miss Penelope saw
an envelope protruding. Her eyes asked
a question.
Mr.. Randolph has written to me,
Winsome said. Twill you read his let.
ter? 1t is your right, for l am going e
put you to more trouble and anxiety Oil
my account" There was no joy in her
face, no hope. Its calm had given way
to unrest; that was all.
Miss Penelope carried the missive to a
window and opened it.
He calls you Mrs. Philip" she cried.
eyes, he made some mistake when Phil
gave him his name," Winsome said. Miss
Penelope read on:
ooh, WinsOme!" she cried, what a
letter, what beautiful letter! Oh, Win.
somey'
Eyes, it is worthy of the man who
wrote it," Winsome replied.
"And what are you going to say to
him?' Penelope asked, with bated breath.
Nothing" replied Winsome. Moth
ing"
why don't you come to breakfast"
cried Phil. 1--WE most DONE"
"Go and play then" said Miss Pencil
ope nervously, anxious to be rid Of the
child that she might talk freely.
Can take my fairy tales to show
Black SAM" asked Phil.
"Oh, yes. Anything" cried Miss Pc
nelope.
Phil scampered away over to the Ran
dOlph mansion, of course. The two wom-
en- were left alone.
"Nothingw repeated Miss Penelope.
"You will give no answer to such let
ter as thisl The man loves you as You
ought to be loved, Winsome; he would
make you happy wife"
Cousin Penelope" Winsome said, 81
know that he could make NE happy. !
know he loves me truly and that those
feelings l thought dead within me have
only slumbered. love him as well as
""iIr' rrT-@ A.
he loves me, dear Penelope, and that is
why | cannot answer him. l cannot
utter falsehood. | must fly from him.
You must take us away again. You
must hide me from him, for l know not
what am. If Jack lives, am still his
wife. If you are right, my shame shall
never fall upon this noble man, even if
1 =. L., or,
me there remains only the comfort of
knowing 1 have done my duty"
AS she ceased speaking a shadow dark
ened the door. She looked up. Mr..
Randolph stood there. In his hand he
held the book Phil had carried away to
show the little negro, volume of fairy
tales that had been his mothers in her
childhood. He held it open at the fly
leaf, across which was written: ITO
Winsome Douglass. From her Cousin
Penelope"
His face was pale; his eyes were glow
ing like diamonds. He advanced toward
Winsome, seized her by the arms, held
her from him for a moment, then cried
Have l been mad that l did not know
you, even though thought you dead:'
and Winsome, looking into his face
screamed:
Jack Autobiography she never
knew-ran away and hid herself.
An hour later Winsome sought for her
and found her.
Phil is with his father, Cousin Pen,
she said. 81 must tell you all about it,
the name first. Randolph was his uncle's
name. He took it when he came into
the family. 1t was one of the conditions.
And as for the rest, when he left me,
Pen, loving me as knew heidi, he went
on board the steamer. They had stormy
weather and were delayed so that there
were New York papers waiting for him
on his arrival.
I'm one of them Che showed it to me,
Penelope was an account of the acct
dent to the Butterfly. The date was
wrong, the facts were wrong in every
particular, and it said that | was
drowned. 1t described me perfectly to
my dress and gloves, and it said that
you, after praising me and lamenting me,
dropped dead upon the spot. 1t gave
the names of the neighbOrs; it was some
thing that no one could doubt. When
he read it, it almost killed him; he faint
ed; he was i'll of fever. Meanwhile
his tutor, to whom in that moment he told
the tr11+b cab1pd tO the Office of the pa