The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1897-06-04

overwhelming! He was In large
westerc i,y, when, after night, returning
to his hotel. II man on crutches asked
for charity. The voice was familiar.
ind, In shock Of horror, the face
struck him. One gasping cry escaped
him:
George Vanhorn!"
The man would have hurried away,
but he followed easily.
LET me go. Spencer!" the crippled
man pleaded. II did not recognize
you! Don't you know am dead?"
II know you are coming in here with
me-" viii said, gently, substituting his
urn for one of the crutches, and enter
ing the hotel where he had room.
"Steady now!" and he led him. feeling
how he trembled. until he had him
seated in 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 I'M
til he had ordered supper and made
him comfortable. Then. turning to
"See what woman you make Of mel"
the poor fellow said. "You thought l
was dead?"
"Yes! All your friends think So" j
1T was a narrow escape, and won
wonder why I was spared. Nine months
in public hospital have left inc Grip
pied and incurably i'll. They would not
keep me after could get about on
crutches, but have begged or starved.
and it will not be for long! Iwould not
let anyone know for fear it would get
to-to-Helenl"
"You want to hide from her?"
"Yes-yes! What would her life be
tied to mine? You will not betray me.
SpencerT
"But you may recover"
NO! / should be only wreck If
could, but / 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 si-
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 self-sacrificing his silence
had been. To spare her pain, he had
kept from her all knowledge of his own
suffering.
But his pride yielded to Wills entreat-
les to be allowed to befriend him. He
was very weak, very i'll. and he allowed
Will to get him n pleasant room in a
quiet boarding house, to furnish him
with necessary clothing. to engage a
doctor, and to take a. brothers place
beside him.
And then true, unselfish love tri-
umphed.
"She will never marry me-" Will
thought, ruefully, as he folded a long,
long letter, "but she shall not be
cheated out of what little happiness life
may still hold for her."
He 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 Will Spencer who met the two
at the depot, and accompanied them tc
the boarding house, where he kept Mrs
Raymond in the parlor after sending
Helen upstairs, alone. 1t was Will
Spencer who smoothed away every diff
Guilty, engaging rooms for mother and
daughter, and quietly effacing himself
1t were far too long story to try tc
record the three months that followed
George Vanhorn was resolute on one
point He would not marry Helen. He
had no hope of recovery, but if the un
expected should happen he would not
IRISH running Helen's life by binding II
to his.
| "Oh," she would cry, what am tc
deserve the love of two such men
Mother, 1t humbles me to think how
they love mel"
And by this love her courage was sus
tanned through the three months, wher
she and her mother smoothed Georg'
vanhorn's path to the grave. Such hap
piness as could be hers, she knew thai
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 b
lavished every kindness wealth coult
procure. or friendship dictate. He CAV
him n brothers devotion until the las
parting came, and when he was laid II
the cemetery Will Spencer took Heller
and Mrs Raymond back to their hom
and left them.
1t was three years later when he cam
home from European tour and calle'
on Mrs. Raymond.
''The old lady, sir, is dead" the serv
ant told him, "an' Miss Helen's Twin Il
- street. Maybe yees didn't hea
she's come into some money from he
uncle, sir, and Mrs. Grady. she's too
this house, SIR"
Come into some money! Well, she di
not need him. He would wait awhile
But in a few days little note reache
him:
at was unkind to let me hear OF you
return by accident. Will you not com
to see me?"
Would he not? And when he went b
could not keep the love out OF his eye
or his voice, and she-at last! Her eye
dropped under his gaze, her cheek
blushed for him, her voice faltered. wit
tenderness. He had won his bride! An
he had no secret hidden from her lovin
eyes. no treachery he would dread
have her discover. By the frankness b
had thought would ALLEVIATE her foreve
he had won her true, faithful love. d.
votion as entire as that she had given |
her girlhood to the man he had SO nobl
befriended.-N. Y. Ledger.
The archbishop of Canterbury is ps
iron Of 1o1 livings; the prince OF Vale
Of 81.
A Generous Girl.
Maude-Charley stole . kiss from n
last evening.