The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1894-05-12

what did IL matter to me? Did I not
| say the world was broad enough for
both, and, II our paths diverged sc
widely, what was death but the medium
which severed them still further apart?
All, no! At last I knew he lived. AT
least sometimes caught the music OF
his voice, the sunshine of his smile.
But where was his betrothed2 BY his
side? No; she had gone, too, leaving
| kindly message. That was all. Sure.
ly she could not have been his promised
wife, else she would have stayed. Oh,
my poor heart! At last / knew the
truth, and scarce knowing what did l
drew sheet OF paper toward me, and
with binding tears wrote:
"Before you die, Clarence--before you leave
me desolate-at least send me one little word
one token Of forgiveness. My pride has all
gone dear. know how wrong was with you,
but you will forgive me, will you nots And
though in Heaven you must remember another
as your betrothed, you will sometimes think
lovingly, II we can think there Of ALICE"
There came no answer to my note,
and when ! heard Clarence Withers
was not going to die, that hopes were
entertained Of his recovery, and slowly
hope gave place to certainty, my first
glad, Unreasonable happiness was sue
ceeded by agony of shame and by the
breathless query: What have done?
oh. II could bury myself anywhere so
that 1 might never see his look
of whitening scornl oh, wish had
diedv' was my thought one afternoon a
few weeks later as sat alone, and,
burying my head in my hands, the
tears, which had for SO long refused to
come, burst forth in bitter, choking
sobs had not heard sound until a
hand was laid upon my shoulder, a
tender, plying voice said:
"Poor little girl! Have you really
grieved so. Alice?"
Springing to my feet, confronted
the man of whom had been thinking;
but even through my tears l saw how
ill and worn he looked.
Have you come to triumph over my
weakness, Mr.. Withers? l have suf-
fered sufficiently, can assure you, over
my poor folly, without you adding to
my misery. l wish, / wish that you
had died!"
"Listen, Alice! BE calm, darling!"
he said, as he drew me down in the old,
tender, willful way, which made his
very mastery sweet. II wanted to die,
too, until, one day, a little, white
winged messenger of peace and hope
came and nestled in my breast. was
too i'll to answer it, but kept it there;
and when the fever ragged its highest
and almost let go my hold of life, it
whispered of the sweetness the future
held for me. And SO battled on. And
when l grew stronger and knew l
should once again look into your eyes,
1 would not let impatience master me-
feared to trust my own great joy, and
waited, darling, until, face to face,
could tell you this All has been
mistake between us. No other
woman has ever touched my heart.
Irene and l were only friends, and
told her of my troubles in all that
dreary time. Alice, have l found my
wife at last?"
/ could not answer but he kissed
away the tears, and / sobbed out my
confession on his breast; but when
had finished he only drew me closer,
whispering sweet words of glad, for-
giving love, while / was well content
to lie nestled in the strong arms of my
bear.''-Jenny Wren, in N. Y. Ledger.