The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1897-06-23
THE CONQUERLVG
u NJ HERO. VI u
HBHM#H EEH s 81 HE EEBFF

1t was pretty scenei The trees had
the abundance of verdant foliage that
belongs to happy June; the grass
seemed more than usually rich and
green and the wild flowers more abund-
ant than ever before-there was a rural
bridge over a deep, rushing stream
that fed a mill dam some distance be-
yond; and roses clambered over the
broken rails of the bridge and twined
their wild tendrfls about an old tree
near by, against which was rustic
seat. On the rustic seat was another
rosa very sweet and fresh and lovely
rose in white muslin, with Marie An
toinette tichu across her breast and
knotted at the waist, and wide leg
horn hat on her head that shaded her
eyes so cleverly that no beholder could
guess that tears were rising there from
time to time and dropping on the white
null kerchief. And this had happened
so often that the rose might very well
be said to be washed in dew.
Her name was Kate, and she was
very angry with herself because the
tears would fall despite all the lndlg-
nant things she was saying to herself
in the effort to stop their flow, till at
last she started to her feet in a dread
full pet and began to walk up and down,
crushing the wild flowers under her
| feet. But that could not continue, for
she was very sweet little woman and
/ could not even hurt a flower without
regretting it; and presently she bent
her graceful figure and pulled the wild
anemones and the few late violets, and,
having reached the rustic seat, she
added a rose or two and sat down.
'It's perfectly lovely morning. she
murmured, and pinned the flowers
among the folds of the null kerchief
Il wonder where she has taken the
child, because
She stopped and looked anxiously
about till she saw, in the distance, the
maid and the little boy rambling among
the trees and apparently absorbed in
gathering wild flowers and chasing but
terfies; and the music of the child'i
laughter was borne to her ON the soft
perfumed summer breeze. 1t was |
heavenly sound-a sound to gladden.
any mothers heart; but Kate Seldel
sighed and drew from her belt a close
ly-erumplcl piece of paper, which sh,
had thrust there in fierce Impotence
and as she looked at 1t the tears, whicl
had not retreated very far, again ros
to her eyes.
ooh, I'm just a dreadful foolp' sh
thought; "a silly, silly little simpleton
And I'm glad he IS late, for | wouldn'
have him know, for anything In thi
world, that l cared enough to cry
And, smoothing out the crumple
paper, she began to read the write
= words once more, though she alread
g knew them by heart:
f "If you will see me on Wednesday W
s can talk the matter over. l have spoke
a with my lawyer, and he has consulte
with yours, and separation can be a.
v ranged without any public scandals
!. least, l hope SO. l would call at tn
!. house, but l know your mother hate
! me worse than ever now, and 1t woul
\ Only cause a scene. So, II you wi
! come to the old rustic seat close by IL
70 hridge-you know where we used
Is meet in the old, happy days-ah, Kat
\ if you would only let me tell you ever
l. thing you would find that I am not |
very much to blame-but won't spea
y Of that. Because, Of course, know yC
70 wish to leave me, and l will make l
, defense. Yes, you shall keep the BIO
!. though l believe the law would gil
a him to me if l chose to fight for q