The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1897-01-07
PROBATION.
And you will be mine always"

t3cted girlhOOd, know of devoted love, of
insidious temptation, of unwavering faith?
Yet she promised years of unalterable love,
of implicit fidelity, to Lyle Conran, and he
believed in her as he believed in faith, in
love, in God.
They sat together, in the deep hued, glow
ing sunset, among the fragrant summer
grasses that swayed above quiet river.
He was lieutenant in the navy and had
been suddenly ordered on distant voyage
which might keep him away for years. Be
tween the earnest, hopeful, tender words
he addressed her and the kisses he pressed
on cheek and lip and brow he lovingly
twined pure white lily buds in her flowing
auburn hair.
Five years is a long time to wait, Rene,
butt will be ever true to you. No other
woman's lips may WOO me, no other wom-
ans voice can thrill me, no other woman's
name shall tremEle on my lips in prayer.
Goodby, darling God bless you. =
Rene Dural was utterly poor, with only
deep hued, brilliant eyes, a sweet, bright,
changeful face and fatal love of fnery
for her inheritance. She hated the barely
furnished, old fashioned farmhouse, the
plain, homely, housewifely tasks, the quiet,
orthodox, prim, country folk. There was
in her soul no subtle sympathy to be ex-
tracted from communion with nature, and
even the glory circled and golden crowned
sunsets, which to the innately refined
aesthetic nature would be positive Joy, held
no beauty for her.
The spring was blossoming in glad
beauty, the early fruit trees blossoming in
luxuriant radiance and scattering delicate,
fragrant petals on the calm still air, when
Lyle Conran returned to Ferndell-return-
ed to find the cottage he had left radiant
with clambering roses and honeysuckles
closed, vine deserted and desolate; re-
turned to hear a strange, sad story of the
girl whose promise he had treasured.
Orphaned and alone, she had grown ut
terly weary of the nonotonous farmland
life, and in the silyery gray dawn of a
summer morning had started to seek a
livelihood in the city. At first fortune ia.
vored her. Afterward times grew dull, the
factories closed, and her employer turned
a deaf ear to her entreaty.
One chance-one only-was offered her
the name, the home, the wealth of de-
crepit, selfish old man.. For this she sacri-
feed her priceless youth, her phghted love,
her womanly honor.
Who shall be the first to point the finger
of scorn, to pass censorious udgment upon
such as she? Not you who lie down nightly
on snowy pillows to pleasant dreams; not
you who have never trOdden YEARLY the
streets of great, throbbing city, hunger
ing for bread and offered stone-young,
faint, heart sick, beautiful and friendless
For one year Rene as Mrs. Ralph Rey-
nolds endured the CALLING slavery, the bit
ter tyranny of unloving wifehood. Then
1L~o l. loo II etn&h 0Ta
free
With boundless wealth, wondrous beauty
and dulled sensibilities she entered madly
the whirling eddy of fashionable folly and
dissipation.
Lyle met her-not the innocent, faithful
darling of his youthful hope, but with false
roses blooming on her cheeks, the CO.
quette's alluring smile on her face, the
worlds mocking scorn on her lip. Was
this the child he had left with the sunlight
dying in royal glory around her, pure as
the golden stamened lily cups he had
twined in her hair?
During the lapse of years Rene's love for
Lyle Conran had not wholly faded, though
she had resolutely and ruthlessly striven to
crush it out of her heart, as she had all
the noble instincts of her nature, but at
the sight Of his handsome, panied, reproach-
full face it flooded again-as in the old days
when it had been her own supreme joy
over her soul, warm, vehement.
"Lyle! Lyle You have come for me at
last!'
She outstretched both fair hands, but he
stood STERN motionless
t'For you! No. I hoped to find the
opening bud had cherished blossomed in
to pure, perfect womanhood for me. In
stead have found''-
t'Lyle,' she interrupted imploringly,
"don't say it, Don't look at me SO coldly
and scornfullyl cannot bear it! Strike
me dead If you knew how 1 hate and
loathe myself
The scorn on his face died; pity, regret, a
great, loving sorrow filled his wronged soul.
ooh, Rene, Renel That should have
found you thusP'
The gathered remorse of years quivered
in her passionate, pleading utterance as
she cried:
"Lyle, I deserve your scorn-your ha-
tired / have stained the honor you be-
lieved in-have betrayed the answering
faith you gave me. But for your sake
can and will be all you once deemed me.
will be pure true, womanly, noble-for
love your
AS he listened to her words and looked
into her tear dimmed penitently beseech-
ing eyes, and knew that he alone of all
the world had power to redeem her from
the physical and moral death of fashion
able sin, pride slumbered and love con-
quered
Irene, with all your falseness and folly
you are dearer to me than any other WON
an can ever be. Rise from the moral mi
asma which envelope you. Become the
true, honorable, exalted woman I have
dreamed my wife would be. Be faithful
for two years to your promised nobility
then / will come for you. y
She lifted her face, brilliant with the
holy glory born of high resolve, and said,
LYLE, my friend, my deliverer, you shall
never regret it. .
He never did, for ere the two years
were ended sad dispatch fastened Conran
to Renes side She was ill-dying Med
ical skill was unavailing-years of reck-
less dissipation had wrecked her rugged
constitution. God had forgiven Lyle
had forgiven. But sin is it's own relent-
less avenger, and in her youth, her beauty
her restoration, she must die.
ono briof bour thnv oOnvnrcod of tho