The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1897-12-23
I was a reserved. morose boy at col

lege?"
Reserved, yes, but often very sad,"
replied his friend, but never morose.
Many times I longed to ask for your
confidence, but there was something
that told me 1t was too deep a sorrow
you were hiding for any intrusion"
Il could not talk of it in those days.
When my father died and l planned to
return to my home, I renewed my
self.exacted VOWS to devote my life to
May, but-do not despise me, Roy-it
was with an added misery and pain.
Remember, I had not once seen her
since the day when l carried her home,
after my hand had ruined her young
life, but l knew that she was defOrmed.
l was a young man. In the full vigOr OF
health, and, while my conscience told
me very plainly that / owed my life to
May Talbot, my heart shrank from the
only way in which l could offer 1t.
Common sense spoke very plainly. On
ly as my wife could 1 give to May the
tender care, the love, that might throw
some gladness into her life. And I, like
a coward, thought of the long misery OF
my own life tied to q deformed woman
that l did not love. So I came home,
a slave in my own idea to my duty,
and resolved to wear my chains brave
ly. 1t was summer weather again when
l went to Owls Nest, and, to my sur
prise, the house was full Of guests,
most of them young people. l think
that May must have gathered some
thing of my intention from my letters,
fa~ cha nv, ~ 1v.r1. a ahfl1 nnI cuff.
fering had made her womanly even be-
yond her years. l only guessed this
from her manner l had expected to
meet a frank, cousinly welcome, for
III correspondence had been like that
OF an affectionate brother and sister,
but May was digniied and even chill
ing In her greeting. 1t was soon evil
dent to me that she was trying to
thrust other ladies who were her guests
upon my care, and to avoid me as far
as possible"
But was she repulsive, Bob?"
"Repulsive! She was far from that,
my poor darling. Feeling her deform-
ity, as such sensitive natures do feel
any personal defect. she had a morbid
idea that she was hideous, and yet a
craving to be loved, If she could not
be admired. Governed by this wish,
she had cultivated a naturally fine in
tellect by constant study, porting over
books when other girls of her age
would have been seeking pleasure in
f1irtations or amusements. With a
sweet, pleasant voice and a good ear
for music. She had cultivated a mu-
Gira1 fQ eff a fi1l che u-a urondprfr1ly nrn-
ficient, and her singing was a pure de-
light to her friends. But for me she
never sang; she never played; never
chatted as she did with her other
friends, and avoided me so persistently
that at last a horrible fear took posses
sion of me. In spite of her natural
sweetness of disposition, her affection
ate letters, I feared she had never real
ly forgiven me, but was too generous
to let me know the truth"
Hin! Not an unnatural fear. But,
my dear fellow, when you found your
self SO persistently snubbed, why did
you o leave her? You had done all
your conscience required"
But not all my heart desired! One
day, when she was more gracious than
usual, / made her a downright offer Of
marriage. She was furious! She said
I insulted her. Nothing could con-
vince her that l was not trying to make
amends for the past, at the price Of my
own happiness. From hot indignation
she became pathetic, asking me how l
could so wound her, finally leaving me
in tears. To say that l felt like a
Nr,,ta niuac h.,+ n faint ;lno of ~ ,oD
s%ations. l left Owls Nest the same
day, trying to comfort myself by my
own virtuous intentions. But, Roy,
love her. l love her with all the
strength of my heart. Her deformity to
me is but a touching Renaissance Of
the tenderness l owe her. and which l
long, unutterably, to pour out upon
her. To me she is the one woman in
the world, and | cannot imagine a deep
er, purer happiness than mine would
be could l call her my wife. How to
convince her of this. how to overcome
her morbid horror that l am unwilling
ly devoting myself to her service, / do
not yet know. But l am resolved to
try. Surely such deep, sincere love as
mine must at last win its way and force
her to believe in it's truth"
you have my best wishes. Come,
shall we rider"
So they strolled away to order their
horses, and May Talbot threw off the
Afghan, to stand before her mirror,
and nee more compare her little
crooked figure with the thought of 9TH
er women's symmetry.
But into the blue eyes had come a ra-
dance that made her whole face joy.
Gus. Over the sweet, sensitive lips hoy.
cred a smile born Of love and such hap,
piness as her life had never known
before. For she loved her knight we'll
this fair maiden who would not accept
his pity. To have been his wife, doubt,
ing his motive in seeking her, to have
thought every tender word a duty
wrung from his remorse. would hav,
been torture. To be his wife becaus,
he loved her, had won her love. wa,
such happiness that the truth mad
her dizzy, and she sank into a dec
arm chair, sobbing for pure joy.
my dear" said a matronly lady
presently entering the room, who d,
you think is here? Robert Blake,