Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1893-01-12

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The sound of voices through the open
door of a darkened room drew her to it's
threshold. 1t was the parlor of the
suite occupied by Beatrice Mercer. The
half-open door of the communicating
apartments admitted the sound of SOL
emn, impressive words.
Was she dreaming? Half-stunned she
staggered across the room and peered
into the next
BeatriC e-Raymond minister-Col-
onel Marshall The two former with
hands united, one lying on couch, the
other, she fancied, bending tenderly to-
ward her.
Oh! surely, this was some delirium Of
the senses, her old fever returned.
No, for just then came the solemn,
somber words from the lips of the cler-
gyman:
And you, Raymond Marshall, do take
Beatrice Mercer as your legally welded
wife, to cherish and protect while life
shall last"
The unhappy girl reeled where she
stood. Her senses seemed deserving
her. Clinging to the door-knob for sup
port, peering, Mortified, pulsating, she
drew the door open.
She saw Raymond Marshall start,
stare, recoil-he alone. Her senses
took in the scene as the browning tab
leau Of a set of scenes in her young
life that had brought wreck, heart
break and disaster to her fondest
hopes.
Then she turned and fled, sick at soul,
affrighted, appalled,. A voice seemed to
call her, but she needed it not.
Out through the portals Of the hotel
she sped, down the street like one mad,
past the limits Of the town, into the
somber forest.
At the foot of giant oak she sank
all of a heap. Its leaves were green
in the olden days when it had been a
trysting- place for happy hearts, but
now blighted, faded. fallen, crushed
under feet.
Her life seemed ebbing, her heart
was breaking, her vision shrank APP
palled from that last vivid picture Of
treachery and faithlessness.
"Oh, let me die, " walled the unhappy
girl, burying her face in her hands in
an agony of heart break, "for Raymond
is false! false! false!
CHAPTER XIV.
IN PERIL
BY the old oak tree Edna Deane lin
gered until the silence of midnight had
fallen over the scene.
She took no note of time; she was
only vaguely conscious Of her sur
roundings.
Here she ha loved and trusted, here
her heart had broken. and the cruelty
Of treacherous friend, the faithless-
ness Of a plighted lover, had crushed
all the 10y and hope out Of her fresh
young life.
Those silent, anguished hours, how
ever, could not endure forever. Like
on ordeal of fire, they tried her soul,
but it tainted not. The rare purity OF
her sweet nature kept her from utter
despair. She was crushed, but duty lay
still before her.
A barren path the future, but she
must tread it alone. She must make
no sign as the cruel thorns pierced her
tender heart; she must drain to the
dregs the cup His hands had rendered.
without sigh or moan.
Looking upon the blurred fabric Of
her girlhood's love-dream as a shat
tered stately palace, hoping that fate
would lead her to the father whose love
and sympathy she SO craved in those
hours of darkness and gloom, she arose
her steps away from Hopedale, she be-
lieved, for the last time and forever.
She reached the railroad town across
country, and took the first train for
home. Home! Yes, her heart thrilled at
the name. Home was where loving
hearts encompassed quiet, even duties.
There she would be welcome. Mr.. and
Mrs Blake would receive her as a
friend, as daughter, and some day she
might tell the kind hearted farmers
wife her sad, bitter story, and learn
from her lips how to bear her cruel bur-
den and suffer in silence.
She did not try to comprehend how
all that had transpired had come to
pass. The one glaring fact confronted
and appalled, her-she had arrived at
Hopedale to see her lover we'd another.
No excuse of time, of absence could
condone such speedy transfer of affec-
ton. He was shallow earted disloy al,
insincere, and she, Beatrice, schem-
ing siren.
Mercy, child! how white and fright
ened YOU look. But, never mind. Thank
heaveni you have come back. John
has been so lonesome for another sight
of your bonnie face, that he hasn't eat,
slept or smiled since you went away"
That was Mrs. Blake's CHEEKY well
come and it warmed and eomforted the
homeless wanderer.
They asked no questions, but the
keen motherly eye Of the farmers wife
seemed to intuitively take in q true con-
ception or shreWd guess of the true
state of Affairs, and without actually in
truding on Edna's grief, she spoke many
q quiet, effective word OF consolation.
tried to lead her guests thoughts to
other themes, as the days went by.
Thus it was that in less than week
Edna had settled down into a life peace
full, happy, indescribably so, only when
that dark shadow Of the past haunted
her heart Ike q pail.
Her new friends had talked plainly to
her. They liked her; she filled dead
daughters place in their hearts. She
| was welcome to remain with them as
guest or adopted child as long as she
chose.
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