The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1896-07-23
Love That Was False

Helen Marsden's new life rose phOe-
nix-like out of the ashes of the old.
Turning out of one of the broadest
and most fashionable avenues OF
c., we'll down in the older part of
the city. where the substantial houses
and spacious grounds tell of a respecta-
bility which is of more than DAYS
growth. you will find yourself in
quiet little street, if we dignity the
place with the name of street, only
two blocks in length, and coming to in
abrupt termination against a garden
wall A strip of sod borders the mar
row VI, =: c'1 elm-trees stand SEN
tinel at either side e. TIE way, and the
pretty cottage houses are set back in
the midst of Shrubbery. In one of the
prettieSt of these cottages Helen Mars
den was born, and lived happily enough
for the 10 years of her life. Her great
est joy and her greatest sorrow found
her within its walls. In many a
pleasant summer evening, she and
Charles Belsham paced the gravel
walks in the moonlight, or fingered by
the little fountain that played in the
middle of the grass-plot, or at the gate,
while the elm-tree shadows Iell over
them and around them, and flickered
on the pavement at their feet, and earth
seemed fair enough for heaven. That
was her greatest joy. The story of her
fr1- IN, tnI
Marsden was a rich and influential
man, but he was not a happy one. His
business was old and well established;
bis name stood high on "change;;" and
and his house on the broad avenue, not
far from the cottage in which mis-
niece and sister-in-law lived so pleas
antly, was one of the largest and fin
est, but it was cold and empty, and
there were no children to inherit John
Marsden'S name and wealth. Helen
Marsden was her uncle's only heir.
This was why, although her father had
died poor, she and her mother were
dwelling in comfort and ease; this was
why she was well dressed and well in
structed. and lived in every way rs
only rich mans daughter has right
70 live; this, too, was why Charles Bel
sham paced the garden walks with her
in the moonlight, but how was she to
know that?
Charles Belsham was an inmate of
her uncle's house, and nephew of hel
uncle's wife. Mrs John Marsden was
q cold, hard fashionable woman. L here
was one person in the world whom she
loved, and that was her nephew, Charles
Belsham. There was one person il
the world whom she hated, and tina,
was her husbands niece, Helen Mars
den. If John Marsden died inteState
the law gave his immense wealth tt
his widow, but John Marsden's viii
was in favor of his niece, and although
Mrs. Marsden was well provided fol
during her life, everything reverted IL
Helen. Mrs John Marsden first dis
covered this will in the private draw
OF her husbands secretary. she wa:
inwardly raging, but outwardly as calm
and cold as ever; and when she hat
mate her plans, she gave her nephew
her orders. Then had commenced
those visits to the little cottage, thOs'
pacings in the moonlight, which wer
Helen Marsden's greatest joy.
John Marsden's home need not hav
been silent and empty, for he wonl'
long since have brought Helen and he
mother to enliven it's solemn grandeur
II Mrs. Marsden would have consented
But Mrs. Marsden would not consent
not that she was jealous of quiet Ros
Marsden-she could but respect an
confide in character so opposed to he
own-but that she was Jealous of he
husbands love for Rose MarSden'
child. So Helen and her mother cor
tnued to occupy the little cottage
and night after night, when Mrs. job
MarSden had rolled away in her cal
riage to the opera or theater, or part,
with Charles Belsham for an escor
John Marsden. growing tired of lionel
ness, would betake himself to its qult
hearth-stone, and there find his onl
realization of domestic comfort.
But latterly there had crept ne
pain into his life-an ever-increasin
lear that this lark of refuge wOul
oe swept away: for gentle Rose w;
drawing visibly toward the end whic
cometh to all
1t was dreary night in Novembe
the rain was falling steadily: the we
dead leaves that Strewed the sid
walks glitterei in the lamplight, an
not footstep broke the stiffness; b,
IN the cottage there was unusual sti
MRS. Marsden was suddenly wors
and Helen was hanging over her in ;,