The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1894-09-01

ers, who demand to look l.i:oa l.
face Of the mysteries st. AlbH:i>. O
course, I refuse everybody. ! doubl
Abby's wages, and station her i'll til
small entrance hall. with orders t
admit no one. l receive letters frol
my publishers, %r.proacling me wiz
my seclusion.
Don't be a hermit, my dear fellow.
says one Of the letters from the angus
head of the house; I'll little socict
would freshen you up; and. besides
you have really made Il hit in that las
article. and people are DESTROYS of meet
ing you. My son, whom we have jus
admitted into the firm, Is very anS
ious to meet YOU"
And so OH, until i feel the bloo'
grow cold within my veins ut though
of possible complications.
Can l always preserve my incogn1ta
Will they not DesieSe nv Cen and fer
ret the truth and Eir-out OF 1t to
gether? 1t comes at last. One brigh
winter morning. Abby ushers into m.
presence Il portly looking old gentle
man, and with him Il man of som
thirty years, tall, dark. handsome, JUS
such a face as I love to portray q
the faces of my heroes.
II beg your pardon"
Mr.. Athcrton falls back overcom
with surprise.
1.-THE servant showed us in here. w
are desirious of meeting Mr.. We're st
A-bans! We are of the publishing firm
. 70 AtEerton & Sons. l wish to see Mr.
st. Adams IN regard to some especia
work. Will you kindly request him t.
give us aud;cnce?"
1 feel my face growing red-redder-
reddest. I rist from my chair, and mo
ton them to be seated near. l open
nv mouth to blurt forth the whole
truth, but some perverse imp seizes my
tongue, and instead l falter.
You cannot see Mr.. st. Adams to
day, gentlemen. He-is indisposed."
So he is, indeed; %indisposed to 70
ceive visitors.
The elder man arises.
You are Mrs. We're st. Adams,
presume?" he observes, And Lob
depths Of infamy! I am so embarrass'
ed, so overwhelmed with embarrass
ment under the cool. steady gaze Of the
younger man, that l bow, n muttel
something which sounds strangely like
YES"
At that moment there is a curious
hustle within the fiat where my little
home is situated. An uproar all at
once, and then in rushes Abby, wild
and disheveled, and clings to my arm
like a mad creature.
ooh, Miss Vera! Miss Vera" she
shrieks, 1.-The house is on fire! Come
let us get away-or we shall be burned
alive"
1t is all true. The fire had been
burning SO long unsupported that
now it breaks out with irresistible
force, and soon the whole building is in
flames. But long before then, we are
quite safe. My two visitors bear my
desk down stairs between them, and
while the elder one keeps watch and
wand over it outside upon the street
the younger one returns to me.
"We must get your husband out" he
says. eagerly, show me his room, and
I will do my best to save him.!
my husband!' l faltered, feebly
"why. I have no husband"
''Then who is We're st. Albans?"
Il ami"
So the truth is told; and somehow
feel better.
When we are all safe on terra irma
my new friend turns to me, and says
in q low tone.
my name is Tom Atherton. My
young sister called to obtain We're st.
Adams autograph. She is more than
half in love with the unknown and
mysterious We're. I shall take pleasure
in undeceiving her."
Then, after a long pause, during
which he studies my shamed face at
tentively, he adds:
"And 1 am quite in love with We're
st. Adams. I have known that writer
for months through her manuscript.
Tell me, is there any hope for me"
What can I say but murmur some
thing about short acquaintances, and
all the rest of the conventional excuses
that flock through my brain. But time
does away with the first excuse, since
he proceeds henceforth to devote him
self to c~ultivating my acquaintance;
and the others he puts aside as he
would a shadow.
So.one day Tom takes to his home
and I am duly presented as his betroth-
ed wife in propria persona.