The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1897-07-16

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'P--- ~ N-N Nmph0utf Dlu
~ .sA[lATHT sorry2
SSEstF, - asked himself
W. ef-"SNs these questions
over and over wearying Of the repeti.
ton, and yet never able 10 end Il by
saying heartily that he was glad and
triumphant, on bitterly that he was
sorry and ashamed The plain fact
stared him ever in the face, that Helen
Raymond did not love him, aud that
Mrs Raymond had urged his suit, and
exerted her maternal influence and
eloquence until Helen had consented
TO be his wife, telling him very frankly
that her heart was in the grave Of her
lover, George Yanhorn, who had been
killed in a railway collision nearly one
year before H
Mother was never willing I should
marry George Helen said, sadly,
because he was poor, and we have
suffered all that poverty can inhict.
He was ON his way to Colorado, where
his brother had been successful, when
he was killed.
viii Spencer WINGED, for he was
rich, very rich, but then he put to the
wound that soothing salye, II will win
her love when she is my wife, that
has wrecked so many lives. It may
/ come, this love. that will not be hid
den, to a man aud wife after they are
bound together for life but the risk is
great, and Will Spencer knew it.
Yet he cherished the delusion that
/ love in the end would win a return,
and he knew his own love to be strong
and enduring. He had stepped back
/ when George Yanhorn was met with
such a smile as he could never win,
had kept from pressing his suit
when the name Of Helen's lover APP
peared on the list of the killed in the
/ account Of the railway collision, but
after the lapse OF several months he
had won Mrs. Raymond TO his side,
and so, by proxy, wooed Helen and
won--what? a cold, reluctant consent
to be his wife.
Yet she was not cold, this girl Of
twenty, whose heart had seemed
crushed ever since the day when
George Vanhorn's name was recorded
as dead He could have told how hel
eyes could soften with loves tender.
. III -.
bushes, her low, sweet, voice tremblC
with loves whispered words. He haC
won what all the Spencer gold, the
riches Of long generations, could no
buy.
In the long ago" the Raymondl
had held wealth, too, but Helen''
father, to use the expression of hi
brother, had "muddled away two for
tunes, somehow" and had died pau
per. Helen was but q child then, an(
her mother was sufficiently wise to IF
her for teacher" by course of ju
dicious education, for which her uncle
paid.
And Helen, nervous, sensitive
quick in feeling, impulsive in speech
was about as unfit for a teacher as
girl could be. Still she trudged abou
in all weather to instruct such pupil
in music and French as she could pro
cure, and helped her mother shoulde
the thousand and one cares of a board
ing house when she was at home.
Before that fatal railway collision
she was a bright, beautiful girl, will
large, expressive, brown eyes, a voic
of music, the step of a fairy, singing a
a bird sings, from sheer joyousness o
heart, bringing jest to all the house
hold worries, laughing merrily owe
her own blunders in the culinary de
partment, turning old dresses, renov
ating old bonnets without a complaint
living on love and hope.
After that day she moved abou
slowly, her eyes dull and weary, he
duties met with rigid mechanical pre-
cision, her lips compressed, her cheek
pale, a shadow of her joyous self,
And it made Will Spencer furiou
he could not break this icy calm. Al
in vain he brought her costly gifts
took her to every place of amusemer
where he could coax her to go, wa
her openly devoted slave. The fe,
words of thanks she spoke were dull
her smile was on her lips only, an
, and her eyes did not brighten. B
no device could he call up one fash {
her old ioyousness. She sang for hin
selecting difficult overtures that prove
her proficiency, displayed charmin
voice, nothing more. Never did sh
sing the old ballads that George Val
horn had loved, when she threw he
heart into every line, and made HI
eyes misty with her thrilling tones.
Yet she was grateful, and spoil
, often Of her own regret that she {
poorly repaid all Wills tenderness