Gulf Coast breeze. [volume] (Crawfordville, Fla.) 1897-19??, 1898-05-06

that young girl a wifep Perhaps a
widow, he thought, with glance at
her black dress, since she seems alone
and desolate.
Yet she was not alone; for, as he
crossed the threshold, he noticed in
the corner an old woman knitting.
'"It is my aunt" she explained.
"She is growing very old, but / dread
the time when she will leave me alone.
Aunt, this is a friend of mine, Mr..
Loring."
The old woman looked up only for
a moment, rs though nothing could
longer detain her from her work.
'Its not Henry" she muttered.
Henry will never come again"
In other days, many women had
smiled at Clint Loring, drawing him,
they hoped, to their feet, but all had
failed. He had gone on in his bright,
happy, careless way, until the crash
came, and then, without even fare.
we'll word, he had taken his pride and
his poverty out of their sight, lost in
the great city.
But strange, sweet intimacy
sprung up between him and his next
door neighbor. The rose he had
taken her blossomed as no rose had
ever done before, and it grew to be
nightly occurrence that he should
leave little Offering of flowers or
fruit at her door.
All day, when she was absent giving
the vocal lessons by which she lived,
and he hard at work over his easel, his
thoughts were with her..
She had told him something of her
early life--her girlhood-but nothing
OF her marriage; from that she slrank
as from q blow. But still the old
woman in the corner muttered of
Henry" She never needed what
they said, nor seemed to have
thought beyond her knitting, save the
utterance of that one name.
So the weeks sped into months, and
winter was upon them, when Clints
heart called out against further silence,
and demanded food for its hunger.
He never doubted it's answer, as he
entered Edna Andrews's to ask her to
be his wife. Their intercourse had
been one of purest lriendship-no talk
of love had ever entered in; but still
he felt she loved him, even as he knew
he had given her the worship of his
soul.
Her patient endurance-her noble
courage-her true womanhood-had
first aroused the feeling; but it had
grown and strengthened, until it
formed part of himself.
SO, in the winter twilight, he told
his story, and, in tho shadow, did not
note the great start his listener gave
how ashy white grew her face.
A moments silence fell between
them, as he told the story of his love.
Then she spoke, but her voice was
harsh, as though struggling to choke
down unbidden sobs:
'From you, Mr.. Loring, I did not
expect this. 1 had grown to regard
You really Us friend-to feel had in
you protector-to lean upon the
rock you seem to have afforded me
and, 10! / find it all quicksand. How
could you? how could .you?" aud the
slight frame shook with the passion
of sods which at last overcame her.
edna, what do you mean? Have
I, then, judged you so wrongly that
the mention of my love thus agitates
you? An honest mans love is no re-
proach Forgive me, if l have erred
and startled you from your repose. In
my hope of taking you from this life of
toll, in sharing with you all / have
which, thank God, is enough for both
Il forgot to break it gently. l am
not rich man, Edna, as you know;
but am succeeding in my art beyond
my anticipations, and / could have
offered you home more worthy OF
you, my darling. Do you so shrink
FROM the thought of becoming my
wife?"
"Your wife?" she almost gasped.
"What else, Edna, could offer the
woman who has opened my eyes to
perfect womanhood?"
"Your wife? yours? Am I not
wife already--deserted and betrayed,
it is true, but bound, hand and foot,
by the letters he has forged?"
"Yes, yes, Henry will come back"
muttered the old woman, in her
corner.
"You hear her? 1t is he of whom
she speaks-Henry, my husband.
Listen and / will tell you all. 1t is
your due. l married him when / was
but sixteen, attracted by a handsome
face, few loving words. Well, he
won me, no matter how. I had pot
been his bride three weeks before he
told me he had married me for my
dowry that he needed money, and
must have more. Then obtained it;
but my father, rich farmer, grew
tired Of my repeated demands, and
refused me more. When told him
this, he struck me, in his anger, and