The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1899-05-27
The h Stepn7Other.


when she was dead. After a while
Aunt Marion acceded to the widower's
repeated entreaties to be allowed to
call, and in few months they were en-
gagged. l guess my prospective uncle
made the other woman good husband,
but he did not really love her, for his
wife wrote that he had never forgotten
his first love, and only married her in
gratitude for the sympathy and tender
ness she showed when telling how my
aunt had deceived him. l think" con-
tinued Richard, that l would never
have made known the truth if | had
been in her place. But l suppose the
voice of conscience gets loud in the
presence of death. 1t was a tardy rep
alton, though
Dick, what Is your aunt's namew
asked Gertrude, abruptly
'Why, the same as my Mothers" he
answered, somewhat astonished at the
question; Moore, Marion Moore. Pret-
ty name, isn't it?" he added. TOO pref
ty to change, l think. Why, Gertie,
what is the matter?"
For the girl had grown deathly white,
and did not seem to hear his last re-
mark.
Nothing" she said at last, making
an effort to recover her self-possession,
"only your aunt is-my stepmother."
"Whatw calculated Richard. "Aunt
Marion your stepmother! 1t cannot be
-and-yet-I never knew her lovers
name; never heard it. Is that her
name, Gertie, are you sure?"
Here is the letter; you can read for
yourself" she answered family. He
saw there was no mistake and won
dered how in the world he could recall
his words.
Il am sorry, Gertie," he said at last.
"Of, course, you know 1 never would
have told you had l dreamed of such a
thing; l dare say l exaggerated. 1
never heard Aunt Marion say anything
about it. All my information came from
her sisters, who did not like your-her
friend. Just forget all about it, Gertie."
Gertrude was weeping as if her heart
would break; but as he finished speak
ing she handed him her ring, without
looking up.
what is that for?" asked Richard,
aghast. 81 did not mean to hurt you;
surely you are not going to punish me
like that, when l offended so uninten-
tionally."
NO." sobbed Gertrude, sit isn't that,
only shouldn't think you would want
to marry the daughter of such a
mother"
Richard laughed as he took the ring
and placed it on Gertrude's finger
again.
what a silly child you arew he said,
fondly. ut wouldn't make any differ
ence TO me If every relative you had
was in the penitentiary. You would
not be responsible for their sins. Be
sides. suppose your mother thought
she had every right to try and win
your father. He was not engaged to
my aunt, you know, and they say all is
fair in love and war. SO think no more
about it, and we will never mention it
again"
Gertrude never did mention 1t again,
but she thought about it many times;
| anu Nutu MI. OSltl DIOuSul HIS VIE
home he found everything arranged to
his liking.
He had said to her: THE boys will be
all right, and if Gertrude does not treat
you well let me know"
"Never, James," replied Mrs. Foster
"for you might be tempted to tell her
the history of the years that are gone,
and children should reverence their
mothers memory, which doubt If she
could do, knowing ALL"
But there was no trouble. Gertrude
treated her stepmother with the ut
most respect and courtesy, and be-
haved in such a way that Mrs. Foster
actually dreaded the girls wedding
day.
AS she watched the carriage that con-
tanned her nephew and his bride drive
down the maple avenue, now resplend-
ent in its autumnal colorings. she sigh
ed-then turned toward her husband,
who was standing near. II never
thought to have loved Loulsa's child so
well" she said.-Exchange.