The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1900-09-10

| lidence which Hyde's letter induced.
Mrs. Moran thought the young man
extent to favor his proposal How
ever, Cornelia," she added, unless your
father is perfectly agreeable and salts
fed. would not advise you to make
any engagement. Clandestine ones come
| to grief in some way or other, and if
your marriage with Joris Hyde is pre-
| arranged by those who know what is
pest for your good, then, my dear, it
/ Is sure to take place as the sun is
| sure to rise tomorrow 1t is only wait
ing for the appointed hour, and you
| may as We'll wait In happy home as
IN one you make wretched by the fret
and complaining secret in any life is
certain to produce
Now, 1t is not often that a girl has
Two SUCH epistles as those received by
| Cornelia to answer in one hour Yet
! perhaps such an event occurs more fire.
quently than is suspected for love-Iil1e
| other things-has its crisis and critical
| moment; and when the moment arrives
! II nnds a. voice, as surely as the flower
! ready TO bloom opens its petals And if
tnere pc two lovers equally since, e, both
| are likely to feel at the same moment
| the same impetus to revelation Besides
winch, fate of any kind seeks the un-
usual and the unexpected; 1t desires to
! pr.ses.
The answering of these letters was nat
uralIy Corneiia's first afte: noon thought
1t troubled her to remember that Joris
had all eady been waiting some hours for
a reply, for she had no hesitation as to
what that reply should be. To write to
Jorls was delightful thing. and unusual
pleasure, and she sat down smiling to
pen the lines which she thought would
/ bring her much happiness and which
were doomed to bring her a great sor-
My Joris, My Dear Friend: IT'S
scarce an hour since 1 received your let
! ter, but l have read it over four times.
And whatever you desire, that also is
i nv desire. and ar a
as you, If you think 1 do not love you
! as much as l am loved by you. You
know my heart, and from you I shall
never hide it,; and 1 think if 1 were
asleep. l should tell you how much l
/ love you; for, indeed, I often dream that
l do SO. Come, then, this very night, as
father is in a suitable temper it will be
we'll to speak plainly to him, and 1 am
! sure thta my mother will say in our ia
Vor all that is wise.
Our love, with no recognition but our
own, mas been so strangely sweet, that
l could be content never to alter that
condition; and yet fear no bond and
am ready to put all to the trial. For
II our love is not such as will uphold
an engagement it will sink of itself;
| and if it is true, as we believe it to be,
| is to say I will keep for your ear, for
| you are enough in my heart to know
! al my thoughts; and to know better
than can tell you, how dearly how
constantly, how entirely I love YOU.
Yours forever. L"Cornelia -
Without pause, with an erasure, this
! letter had transcribed itself from Cor
i nelia's heart to the small gilt-edged note
paper; but she found it a much more
! difhcult thing to answer the request of
Rem Van Ariens. She was angry at him
| for putting her in such a dilemma She
! thought that she had made plain as pos
| s1bieste him the fact that She was pleas
| ed to be companion. friend a sister
! If he so desired-but that love between
| them was not to be thought Of She had
| told Arenta this many times and she
| had done this because she was certain
Arenta would make this proposition clear
to her brother. And under ordinary cir
eufnS Arenta would have been
| frank and free enough with Rem, but
while her own marriage was such an
| important question, she was not inclined
to embarrass or shadow its arrangements
by suggesting things to Rem likely to
cause disagreements, when she wished
all to be harmonious and cheerful 20
| Arenta had encouraged, rather than dash
| ed. Rem's hopes, for she did not doubt
! but that Cornelia would finally undo
! very thoroughly what she had done.
"a little love experience will be good
thing for REM she said to herself s.It
will make man of him; and I do hope
! than to die of her denial"
| It is easy then to understand how Cor
| nelfa, relying on Arenta's usually ready
advice and condolences, was sure that
Rem had accepted the friendship that
| was all in her power to give him. and
that this belief gave to their intercourse
| a frank and kindly intimacy that it would
not otherwise have obtained. This state
of things was desirable and comfortable
| for Arenta, and Cornelia also had found
a great satisfaction in friendship which
she trusted had fully recognized and ac-
/ copied Its limitations. Now all these
pleasant moderate emations were stirred
into uncomfortable agaitatfon by Rem's
4 unlooked-for and unreasonable request
She was hurt and agitated, and withal a
little sorry for Rem, and she was also in
a hurry, for the letter for Joris was
waiting, as she wished to send both by
| the same n messenger Finally she wrote
| the Following words, not noticing at thS-
| time but remembering afterWard what a
| singular soul reluctance she experienced
/ how some uncertain preSentiment, vague
1 and dark and drear, Stihed her thoughts
and tried to make her understand, or at
least pause. But alasi the doom that
! walks side by side with us, never warns;
| it seems rather to stand sarcastic at our
! ignorance, and to watch speculatively
the cloud of trouble coming; coming on
purpose because we foolishly or careless
MY Dear and Honored Friend: Your
| letter has given me very great sorrow
You must have known for many weeks
even months, that marriage between us
! was In possible. 1t has always been So
! it always will be so. Why could you not
be content? We have been SO happy
/ So happy, and now you will end all
But Fortl ne, though often cruel cannot
! call back times that are past, and I shall
never forget our friendship. I grieve at
your going away, 1 pray that your alb
sence may bring you some consolation
DO not, beg you, attempt to call on my
/ father. Without explanations I tell YOU
! very sincerely, such a call will cause
me. great trouble; for you know we'll
girl must trust somewhat to others judg-
ment In her disposal It gives me more
pain than l can say, to write In this
mood, but necessity permits no kinder
! words. want you to be sure that the
| No here is absolute. MY dear friend
pity rather than blame me; and 1 will be
so unselfish as to hope you may not think
so kindly of me, as to be cruel to your
self. Please to consider your letter as
never written, it is the greatest kindness
you can do me; and, above all I beg
you will not take my father into your
| confidence.
with sad sense of the pain my words
must cause you, I remain for all time
your faithful friend and obedient servant
-"Ccrnelia Moran
Then she rang for a lighted candle,
her letters. Her white wax and seal
were at hand, and she delayed the SER
want until she had closed and addressed
them.
You will take Lieut. Hydes letter
first she said, land make no delay
about it, for it is very important. Mr.
Van Arien's note you can deliver as you
| return"
AS soon as this business was quite
| out of her hands she sank with q hap
let her arms drop gently. and closed
| her eyes TO think over what she had
done. She was quite satisfied. She was
sure that no length of reflection could
| have made her decide differently She
had Hyde's letter. in her bosom, and
| she pressed her hand against it, and
vowed to her heart that he was worthy
| OF her love and that he only should