The herald., 1893-11-12
Will, AND I.

full hour, engaged in the 1audable occu-
patton of doing nothing. In spite Of my
trouble, what wonder then that drifted
1, on into reverie, and my thoughts re-
verted to sadly pleasant retrospect?
Once more it was winter-the sunny
: New Orleans winter-and Will and l
were together recalled the hours
passed in reading and writing and mu-
Cic; the drives and walks and theaters.
Tho most minute and trivial incidents
occurred to my mind, and | found my
self smiling at the'recollection Of GER
tain long, narrow, phenomenally dark
passage or alleyway on Royal street, up
which we glanced one night, and which
Will, with his bright and quick sense of
humor. Immediately christened "Jack
the Ripper's court"
This is not sensational story that
am about to tell. ! warn my readers
In advance that there is nothing star
Ting or wildly romantic in it, From
start TO finish it is simple "o'ertrue
tale" And yet it was romantic too.
There was tinge of romance, after all,
Ito marry him in secret. tWe had been
hetrothed for year, and he was far
from strong. His health was UNDER
mined, and horrible fear oppressed
him that he would be taken away. In
the prime of his manhood, with life and
hope and happiness all his, it was an aw-
ful thought.
Constance" he said one night as we
stood on the moonlit gallery, with its
luxuriant rose vines and the great yell
Z low roses clambering up to shake down
their showers of fragrance in our faces,
my darling, be my wife now! Why
Should we wait, dear one? There is moth
Ing between our lives and happiness but
he bugbear of poverty, and / shall have
fortune when | am 80. l shall be 80
next September, Constance, if-if live."
: Something in the sweet, tender voice
made me glance up swiftly into the
brave, dark eyes. Beautiful, tender eyes,
where are you now? Where are you
today, o Will? Hidden away forever
from the sight of my eyes, from beyond
the clasp of my arms-gone, gone-I feel
it, believe ito that
Beautiful, veiled, bright world,
Where the glad ghosts meet
Something in his voice made my heart
cache.
-'iW by doyouspcaix so sadly?' Iasked
him. Never mind the forJuiIe, Will.
Il care nothing for that, if you are only
spared to me-"
81 know it, dear, tender little heart"
he answered softly. 'sYou are the only
true woman in the world, Constance.
But wanted to tell you Il am supersti-
tious, admit it) it was prophesied that
shall die before am 30."
p "Nonsense" cried sturdily, "that is
sheer superstition, and it is very wrong
to believe in it. dear. No one knows the
$future. | would never think of that
again if were you"
=. | tried to smileas I spoke-to shake off
the strange feeling that would oppress
me, try as might-but all in vain Die
before 30! My true hearted, noble Will,
with his sunny smile and tender dark
syes! l would not believe it. II was
, absurd. So l laughed at his fears as
foolishness and tried to make him for
get. But he was far from strong, and
that one glimpse Of what might be in
store for us--the awful parting that
=, might come-made me decide. SO l
promised that night to become his wife
1t once and Sin secret and silence" as
A the old song says.
Everything was made ready, and on
the following night--the night before his
fdeparture--we were quietly married in
aquaint little old church in one of the
retired streets of New Orleans. And
Will and belonged to each other for
time and eternity.
The sad parting came next day-and
De went back to his northern home,
while returned tony work, frightened
4, pnly by the hope of meeting in the sum
Gler at quiet Long Beach.
| am not q superstitious woman. !
dad laughed at VIII for his own dread
Of the supernatural and his belief in
!. prophecy, but we had not been parted
whole month when something very GU
eious happened. Will had written to me
!. every day, such dear, sweet letters that
they did my heart good-kept it alive, in
TACT.
- But for those letters would have given
up my hold upon hope and would have
kuccumbed to despair
But one day no letter came. felt a
ftrange sinking at the heart-an awful
Sense of depression; darkness gathered
over my life. Suspense--hope deferred;
these are the two emotions which serve
20 kill the human heart, to darken and
blight existence. That night / went out
on the little gallery where we had pass
ed so many happy hours. The moon
WAS bright, and one star shone in the
Z blue vault above my head that Will
had long ago designated tour star" My
heart was crushed and heavy.
stood leaning against one of the col
INNS which supported the gallery, the
bcent of tho roses that he loved floating
hll around me, And as | stood there,
komething--a light touch fell upon my
shoulder. A cold breeze crept over my
, cneck. like breath from the grave
turned my eyes, and there before me
In the cold moonlight stood Will-my
husband.
With a wild incredulous cry Of delight
Sand rapture. flung my arms about him
--only to grasp empty airl No one was
herei Will was gone!