The Portland daily press., 1896-11-11
A LETTER

worst, SO Go not pity me if your pride
and Judgment decide that we must part.
I have told you that can bear it. Ny
arrangements are made for leaving Ben
ton the coming week, and if must leave
Won also Go not let me look upon you
again. It would not be wise. I know
well what your position demands, and
l accept my destiny. God bless you al
ways Adieu. -
THUS ended my answer to David
Woolsey's proposal for my hand He
had never asked me to tell him of my
former life, and I might have evaded it
with Kim IS | had with others, but I
ecorned to do that, so I sat down and
ooolly ard deliberately told him all
iaow that poverty had followed me with
a relentless hand and forced me into
the hot ami sitting factory when was
but years old-would his pride cringe
when he read thati / thought so-how
that two years more found me working
as a servant girl, and so, step by step, I
wrote down for him the whole of my
strangely checkered life.
was not disappointed when the week
went by without his coming-I should
certainly have been had it been other
wise, and it was with steady and de-
termined hand that finished my prepa-
rations for leaving. I was going to
Brierwood Brent as governess. My pres
ent needs would be supplied. That was
some satisfaction, and if David Woolsey
chose to take another for his bride, as I
expected he would, all could ask Of
him was to keep away from my eyes.
stood out of doors the night before
l left, looking over the dear old hills
which had almost become part of my
self since my stay In Benton, and was
bidding each silent, fearful farewell.
when saw David Woolsey riding slowly
by. did not wait to think, but, raising
my finger for him to stop, ran down
through the yard into the street and
reached up my hand in his.
81 go in the morning, David. Good
by"
Have you nothing more for me?"
His face grew whittier than this paper
I am writing on while he spoke. hard
~, understood him, but answered:
Nothing more. May God keep you,
David Woolsey.''
He bent down until his breath foated
over my face, looked full into my eyes,
as though it were the last time-as in
deed it was for many a day-then with
a look of such superb scornthat it thrill
ed every nerve in my body he turned
his horses head and galloped away.
If we had parted friends, believe l
could have borne it better, though did
not hate him for his scorn. 1t was not
possible for me to. Ny love for him was
too full and perfect for that had told
him that could bear it, and should I
allow the burden to crush me now? God
knows I was very weak.
/ found Brierwood Brent a quiet
home. It was quaint, curious pile.
with its wide verandas, it's odd looking
wings and its high and sharply pointed
arches. I had two pupils, both little
girls, daughters of Mr.. Bethel, my en-
ployer. Details are tedious, and will
not dwell upon them. Enough to know
that resolutely kept the past away
from my mind and turned my attention
to the present.
I had been there about six months
when one evening there came call for
me. It was an unusual thing, for gov
erness has few acquaintance and fewer
friends, but did not stop to think who
it was. If I had, should, I suppose,
have concluded that it was some one to
see mo on business, perhaps to hire a
governess or something of the SORT
went directly to the parlor and found a
Mr. Clayton there. knew him by rep.
utation as an honorable and influential
man, but never spoke to him. Mrs.
Bethel met me at the door, introduced
us and left uAalone. He commenced the
conversation by sayings
'sMiss Hyde, do not be startled al
what am going to say. I am man Of
few words, and came here tonight tt
ask you to be my wife. Your hand mag
not be free to bestow upon any one, but
if it is have I any hope9'
1t was romantio courtship, waen',
it, reader2 I did not say word for fully
five minutes, and thes said:
ST thank you, Mr.. Clayton, for hon
oring me by asking fpr my hand. It il
certainly unexpected, but I have an an
swer for you. I will be yours on one
condition.
Name it,"
"That yeu never refer to or ask about
my past It has been very bitter, and il
must slurber in it's grave now. Enough
that my character is unstained.
s'I am satisfied. 1t shall be as yor
say. Tomorrow evening, with your con
sent, will spend here. Good night. >
He bowed and left the room
In six weeks was married. Now, to
night, as sit here with the moonlight
flooding into my room and think ovel
those years Of my life, it seems like
some brilliant, troubled dream. My am
bition was aroused. 1t had been kept a
bay all my lifts, but now it was Embossed
and, as love was nothing TO me, tina
ruled my heart like AN evil spirit. Blu
let me tell you how I met David Woolsey
again.
We. nv husband and I, had received