The Southern herald., 1897-07-09

! W NAAAAAas -AO NOANC WIS ldLllltaI,
and, in a shock Of horror, the face
struck him. One gasping cry escaped
him:
George Nanhorn!"
The man would have hurried away,
but he followed easily.
Let me go, Spencer!" the crippled
man pleaded. Il did not recognize
you! Don't you know l am dead?"
Il know you are coming in here with
me" VIII said, gently, substituting his
arm for one Of the crutches, and enter
ing the hotel where he had a room.
STEADY now." and he led him, feeling
how he trembled, until he had him
seated in a great armchair in his room,
and felt his heart stirred with deep
compassion at the havoc pain and pow
erty had made.
He would not let his guest speak un-
til he had ordered a supper and made
him comfortable. Then, turning to
him, he saw that he was weeping.
See what a woman you make of met"
the poor fellow said. "You thought l
was dead?"
"Yes All your friends think So"
at was a narrow escape, and l won
wonder why was spared. Nine months
in public hospital have left me Grip
pied and incurably i'll. They would not
keep me after l could get about on
crutches, but have begged or starved,
and it will not be for longl Iwould not
let anyone know for fear it would get
to-to-lIelenl'
"IOu want to hide from here"
"Yes-yes What would her life be
tied to mine? You will not betray me,
Spencer?"
But you may recover"
NO! | should be only a wreck if
could, but l cannot. l have internal
injuries that the cold and hunger of
last winter have increased, fatally"
viii Spencer literally could not speak.
This man asked of him only the 81
lence that would give him his wife.
Could he let Helen remain in ignorance
of this strange adventure the memory
of her old love might die away in time.
When he could speak again he led the
conversation to Helen. He was very
frank, telling George Vanhorn how tru-
ly he had been mourned, but saying
nothing of his own hopes, and it was
easy to see how George had loved her,
how utterly selfsacrifcing his silence
had been. To spare her pain, he had
kept from her all knowledge of his own
suffering.
But his pride yielded to Willis entreat-
les to be allowed to befriend him. He
was very weak, very i'll, and he allowed
Will to get him a pleasant room in
quiet boarding house, to furnish him
with necessary clothing, to engage Il
doctor, and TO take brothers place
beside him.
And then true, unselish love tri-
umphed.
"She will never marry me-" Will
thought, ruefully, as he folded long,
long letter, "but she shall not be
cheated out of what little happiness life
may still hold for her"
lie wrote too, to Mrs. Raymond, a let
ter that caused that respectable lady to
grind her teeth, but which she obeyed,
packing her trunk and accompanying
Helen in the journey westward.
1t was viii Spencer who met the two
at the depot, and accompanied them to
the boarding house, where he kept Mrs.
Raymond in the parlor after sending
Helen upstairs, alone. It was viii
Spencer who smoothed away every diff
Guilty, engaging rooms for mother and
daughter, and quietly effacing himself.
1t were far too long a story to try to
record the three months that followed.
George Vanhorn was resolute on one
point. lie would not marry Helen. He
had no hope of recovery, but if the un-
expected should happen he would not
rish running Helen's life by binding it
to his.
"Oh," she would cry, what am to
deserve the love of two such men?
Mother, it humbles me to think how
they love mel"
And by this love her courage was sus-
tanned through the three months, when
she and her mother smoothed George
Vanhorn's path to the grave. Such hap
piness as could be hers, she knew that
she owed to Will Spencer, who showed
his love only by his care of the invalid.
He never spoke of love to her, giving
her up entirely, but upon her lover he
lavished every kindness wealth could
procure, OF friendship dictate. He gave
him brothers devotion until the last
parting came, and when he was laid in
the cemetery Will Spencer took Helen
and Mrs. Raymond back to their home
and left them.
1t was three years later when he came
home from a European tour and called
on Mrs. Raymond.
"The old lady, sir, is dead" the serv-
ant told him, IAN Miss Hclen's llvin' in
- street. Maybe yees didn't hear
she's come into some money from her
uncle, sir, and Mrs. Grady, she's took
this house, sir"
Come into some money! Well, she did
not need him. He would wait awhile.
But in few days little note reached |
him:
at was unkind to let me hear Of your
return by accident. viii you not come |
to see me?"
Would he not? And when he went he |
could not keep the love out of his eyes
or his voice, and she-at last! Her eyes
'drooped under his gaze, her cheeks
blushed for him, her voice faltered, with |
tenderness. He had won his bride! And |
he had no secret hidden from her loving |
eyes, no treachery he would dread to
have her discover. By the frankness he
had thought would ALLEVIATE her forever
he had won her true, faithful love, de-
votion as entire as that she had given in
her girlhood to the man he had so nobly |
Y. Ledger.