The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1894-09-05

Marble Halls stirred him quite unusual
ly. L remember that The Bohemian
Girl was an opera that my mother used
to enjoy more than any other except
perhaps Mariana My poor father was
no doubt thinking of my mother, who,
as you know, was in every way worthy
of his love and admiration"
"There could be no more sweet and
lovable woman than your mother, Ned;
l was your fathers best man, you had
forgotten that. Ah well, one cannot
remember everything. But 1 am inter-
rupting you"
'Mrs. Sinclair became more and more
the mistress of the house, and the friend
of the heads thereof, my father and L.
When the italian opera came to Bath
my father suggested that we should take
a box and give Mrs. Sinclair pleasant
evening. 1t would, he said, be some
compensation for the treatment she had
received at the hands of certain lady
of title. | seconded him heartily in
every little plan for Mrs Sinclair's hap
piness. She was invaluable to US; and
we were both sincere in trying to make
her understand that we were grateful.
AS time went on I found my self getting
home at unusual hours, laying traps to
catch Mrs. Sinclair for a gossip. In the
midst of my work her face would come
into my mind; it was cheerful, bright
face, a combination of beauty and intel
lectuality; somehow she didn't look
bit like a widow, and yet there was
glance in her eyes now and then that
well, there, what is the good of beating
about the bush-I fell in love with Mrs.
Sinclair. l didn't tell her so, but she
understood it.
"Back woman for that" 1 said, at
is a matter of instinct with them"
mo doubt" said Ned, "and it is
very happy thing for us fools of men
that it is SO. When we were alone Mrs.
Sinclair and called each other by our
Christian names, she was Marie, l was
Ned; in my fathers presence we treated
each other with ordinary courtesy. One
day my father said to me, Ned, want
word or two with you. have re-
solved to marry again He was man
of few words as you know. l replied
that 1 hoped that he had made good
choice. oh, yes, he said, i am sure
of that, and convinced that you will ap-
prove of it. What do you think of Mrs.
Sinclair?' I exclaimed You are old
enough to be her fatherr He said he
was nothing of the kind, and if he were,
surely that was a matter for the lady's
consideration. said / thought there
might be some one else to consider be-
sides the lady. felt that 1 was pale.
Something in my manner betrayed my
feelings to the excited old man. His
eyes were fixed upon mine. could not
look him in the face. Good heavens,
Ned!' he exclaimed, you don't mean to
tell me that you are in love with Mrs.
Sinclair?' i did not mean to tell you,
had no thought of it, replied, but it is
true am in love with her. Ny father
flung himself into a chair by the table
and buried his face in his hands. l
walked about the room, feeling very
sorry for him, but no less sorry for my
self. Have you told Mrs. Sinclair the
nature of your feelings toward herg' he
asked presently, looking up at me in a
fearfully anxious kind of way that made
my heart ache. Not in words, said.
Not in words he repeated, still look
ing at me, but she knowsP' I have
not told her., said. Mop he replied,
not in words again repeating my
answer. Have you asked Mrs. Sinclair
to become your wifep' Yes he re-
piled. 'Whenp' Almost this minute,
he answered. And what was her re-
plyP' Her reply said my father, rising
from his seat and looking about him in
perplexed way, was that if had
| your full and free and absolute consent
she would me- My free, full and alb
solute consent, said, now repeating
my father, my heart beating wildly.
What selfish thing love is. 1 would
have laid my life down for my father,
but could not give up Marie Sinclair.
1t was one thing to be in love, another
to tell the woman that you love her, the
very confession you feel may be your
loss of her. I felt as if I would like to
go up to my father and take his hand,
but somehow my heart was against
him; it seemed to me that he had acted
an unkind and cruel part toward me,
his only son. Then tears came into my
eyes and I felt perfect fool. His voice
brought me to my senses. Speak Ned,
he said speak! Have 1 your full, free
and absolute consent to marry Mrs.
Sinclairp' No. said, by the lord,
noT My father staggered where he
stood, but he stiffened himself with an
effort. l felt that he was suffering. ]
longed to fling myself into the old mans
arms and say yes the moment after
had said mo-. Then we leave it to
her, he said I love you both too well
to come between you; 1 love her too
well to give her up without it is her alb
solute wish; but'-he pushed past me
and rung the bell. It seemed prosaic
thing to do, and it brought me out OF
my cloud of romance. Father I said
going up to him and laying my hand on
his arm, forgive mep He shook me
from him without word as a servant
entered the room. Tell Mrs. Sinclair
my son wishes to speak to her.
Just as Ned arrived at this dramatic
situation it happened that another bell
rang. In real life incidents do not al
ways work up to what is called a dram
attic climax, though in the present case
Mrs. Henshaw's return from the "At
home" Ned had mentioned was in itself
not altogether inappropriate. AS the
great haIl-bell rang Ned paused in his
narrative, saying 'that's my wife, she
will be here in moment, l have just
time to tell you that l married Mrs.
Sinclair and that we have neither of us
seen my father since the day when he
had those few words with me about his
matrimonial intentions; left the house
within an hour of Marie confessing her
love for me, and the dear old chaps last
words to me were Ned Henshaw, will
never forgive you!
"But he SHALL" said, just as Mrs.
Henshaw, the heroine of Ned's story
entered the room; a handsome, we'll
dressed, happy-looking woman not an
hour over 80; she went up to Ned, said
she had had delightful time, and in