Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-11-29
CHAPTER XIV.
THE LITTER

IftE IL.
There is magic in the refreshing
sleep of youth calculated to exercise
the megrims. When Sprague, arising
after good nights rest, found the
world bathed in the sunshine of a
crisp January day, he felt the physical
pleasure of living which comes from
supple muscles, from the coursing of
generous blood through the veins,
from the cravings of healthy appe-
tite.
He remembered the "blue devils" of
the day before. and found it difficult to
account for them. He was in love, GER
tainly. But that in itself did not fur
nish sufficient reason for desponden-
cy. 1t was rumored that the object of
his affections was on the eve of be-
trothal to another. But what depend
ence can be placed upon public ru-
NOR? AS matter of fact Miss Muir
dock wore no rings; in the absence of
the badge of the betrothed woman,
was he not justified in believing her
fancy free?
In that case, there was fair field
and no favor. Why should not he have
as good chance of winning the prize
as another man? No man, of course,
was worthy of Agnes Murdoch. That
was the fundamental axiom. But in
love success does not perch only upon
the banner of the worthy. fit did, the
human race would soon become ex-
tinct.
So the young mans thoughts ran on,
while hope once more found resting
place in his heart.
Miss Murdoch was not to pose again,
but Sprague was eager to work on the
portrait. He was about to step into
the studio after breakfast, when the
housekeeper announced call from his
lawyer, who wished to consult him
about some important matters. The
entire morning was thus consumed in
necessary but tedious business, and it
was not until after luncheon that the
artist was at last free to set to work.
Uncovering the portrait, he stood off
to examine it. As he did so, something
white upon the floor caught his eye.
| He stopped to pick it up. 1t was a let
ter in beautifully regular masculine
hand. Mechanically he turned it over
and unfolded it. His eyes carelessly
swept the written page; then in a flash
| he realized what it was, and he flung it
| violently from him.
Only few words had left their inn
press upon his retina-a few scattered
words and a signature. But these were
branded deep upon his brain for all
| time, in letters of fire which burned
| their way to his very soul. For he had
recognized the letter which had been
delivered by the messenger to Miss
Murdoch the day before, and he had
seen enough to know that it was
couched i'll words of passionate love. In
| that instant was quenched the last ray
of hope which had lrrked within his
heart. Overwhelmed with u sense of
/ utter desolation, he sank back upon
divan, and for long time remained
lost in bitter reflections.
But Sprague, in spite of his diet
tanteism, was man of grit when oc-
casion called for it. Summoning at
| length his fortitude and his pride, he
proceeded to carry out what he con-
ceived to be the duty OF gentleman I'M
der the circumstances.
/ Picking up the letter again, he placed
it unread in an envelope, into which
he slipped his card, with brief ex-
PLANTATION of the finding of the paper.
Then, after addressing the envelope, he
started out to mail it himself.
Thomas Chatham!" he unused, as he
went down the stairs; Thomas Chat
ham! Why, he is the man who took
such pains to inform me that Miss MUIR
dock was betrothed or on the point of
being betrothed--the tiashily dressed
| young man with red hair who is so
regular an attendant at the Murdocks'
informal receptions, and who never
seems to be invited on state occasions;
an insignificant and conceited puppy.
Poor girl, what pity that she should
throw herself away upon such man.
But, if he marries her, he shall make
her happy, or else"
The balance of his thought was not
put into words; but his face became set
| in stern lines and his hands clenched in
grim determine ton.
Sprague, with the letter for Miss
] Murdoch in his hand, hurried to the