Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1900-08-16
CHAPTER I.


"Oh, Doctorv' sobbed Miriam Her
mann, "tell me that he will live! Tell me
that you can save him!'
i Old DIR. Matthison laid his hand kind
& ly on the young girls shoulder, and there
4 was tremor in his voice as he replied:
II have not lost all hope; but is 1t not
4 better to be prepared for the worst? We
are doing everything possible for your
father. To him. as to all of us, death is
inevitable"
But" she said, pleadngly, ''you think
he may recoverw
Our wishes and our fears are ever
opposed. Keep good heart, my child"
The old doctor pressed her hand, and
was gone.
With her fingers interlocked, Miriam
Hermann sat by the window. Every
thought was centered in the father dying
in an adjoining room. Her mother had
been so long dead that she had not the
faintest memory of her; but her magma
ton gave her an ideal, which she treas
ured as a reality.
Miriam was now nineteen years of age;
shapely, slender and dark-eyed. So wrapt
up was her father in her that he could
not bear to have her out of his sight.
So it was that she was never sent to
boarding schools, as the majority of girls
with wel-to-do parents are. But fully
approaching the value of education and
culture, Martin Hermann secured the
best private instructors for his child. And
Miriam grew up to beautiful womanhood
in the secluded old house, knowing moth
ing and caring nothing about the outer
world. German, French and italian
were to her as familiar as English, and
she was skilled in music, painting and the
decorative accomplishments.
Martin Hermann's house was an old
fashioned, revolutionary structure situat-
ed on the Hudson, in the upper part of
New York City. 1t was just the place
where the old man, weary with the
worlds strife, would wish to spend the
evening of life; but in it the youth, full of
energy and anxious for stirring change.
would chafe as in a prison. 1t was a
placid lake within hearing Of the great
oceans ceaseless pulsations. The weary
mariner could enjoy it; it would be
torture to the untried sailor boy.
But all it's summer beauty had gone.
The flower beds looked like scars on the
breast of the brown sward. The river
was covered with floating ice, that went
grooming down to the sea. The dark
sky seemed settling down like a great
extingusher, and it became rapidly dark
as Miriam sat beside the window.
You will catch cold here, my child.
Come back to the sitting room.'
Miriam Hermann would not have heard
this had it not been accompanied by
gentle hand placed on her head. The
speaker was Mrs. Hope, the housekeeper,
a matronly, gray-haired woman, with
brown eyes and care-marks about her
mouth, and time marks across her broad
forehead.
"Have you come from him? How is
hep" asked Miriam, rising eagerly.
HE seems TO be asleep; the expression
of pain has left his face, and the old
smile has come back" whispered Mrs.
Hope.
Taking Mriam's arm, Mrs. Hope led
her into another room, where maid
was arranging the contents Of tray on
a table drawn up before an old-fashion-
ed wood fire.
Miriam sat down with an air of dejec
ton, and Mrs. Hope whispered to the
maid:
THAT will do, Kitty: tell Clay, the
nurse, to call us if Mr.. Hermann wakes
up"
The pretty maid bowed and went out
quietly as shadow. Then Mrs. Hope
prevailed on Miriam to eat little and
drink q cup of tea, after which She in
duced the weary girl to lie down on a
lounge drawn before the fire.
Physical exhaustion overcamc mental
anxiety, and Miriam Hermann's eyes
closed, and she sobbed as she slept.
Above the roar of the storm the church
bells in steeples near by could be heard
toling the hour-twelve-when Mrs.
Hope stood beside the sleeper and whis-
pered:
Wake up, my child, he wants to see
you."
Miriam was on her feet in an instant,
trying to read the housekeeper's face.
as he better?' she asked, eagerly.
''His mind is very much clearer. Go
IN; he wants to see you alone"
Miriam entered the room just as the
black nurse, who had been awaiting her
arrival. came silently out.
A dim light burned on a table out Of
the invalid's sight. and chair was
drawn near to the bed. Propped up on
the pillows lay an old man, from whose
face disease had not stamped out the
lines of rugged strength and intellectual
force. in whose gray eyes there was still
the light of consciousness and love. De-
spite the haggard expression and unmis-
taxable pallor, his face retained its strong
German cast.
"Come nearer, Nitric; come nearer, my
precious one, so that my eyes may rest
on you as speak-as speak for the last
time"
With low cry she pressed the thin
hand to her lips. then kissed his cold fore
head, and moved so that he could see
her.
You are so young, Mirrie, that you
should expect to survive me. 1t is all for
the best, my darling, all for the best. You
havA been the light of my home and the
Joy of my heart so long. that cling to