El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1900-09-19
GRANDMoTHER'S
ROMANCE.

| and yreat-grandchildren. She was bur
| led in the corner of the cemetery which
| she had chosen long ago. and after the
! sad ceremony we returned to the old
house. Here were memories for all of us.
/ For three generations she had held chill
! dren in her arms soothcd their sorrows.
: listened to their joys. and now they Were
| all met TO mourn her absence from the
I old place so dear from its associations
with her.
mounted the great staircase and en-
I tered the room from which they had just
] taken her. Here were my earliest recoi-
1 lections of her. / recalled how, as a lit
tie girl. would come in in the morning
| as soon rs / was dressed saying Good
morning. grandmother" l always found
her dressed. for she was an early riser.
| She would leave her chair by the window
and go TO the big. old fashioned ward
robe, which looked so immense to me,
, and take from it the expected dainty
With what awe and respect had this
wardrobe filed my childish heartI 1t
seemed to me n perfect treasure house
for all that n child holds dear. On my
birthdays my presents came from this
storehouse. and imagined it always full
of delightful things and regarded grand
mother as almost a fairy.
With these remembrances in my mind
/ opened il now. 1t was full of fragrant
little shelf at one side. where lay several
papers. / picked up n roll of yellow
writing paper tied with a pink ribbon and
carried it to the light. Had / any right
to read the pages? They were discolored
by age, but / knew the writing. Could
grandmother have any secrets which she
would wish to keep after death? Even
as debated 1 had united the ribbon
and discovered that held diary in my
ho IN nf
love. sweet. pure and tender; the first
love of a young girl. / could not resist.
and / read the pages rs I stood there in
the fading light, which laid before me
the romance of my grandmother.
1t was in the month OF June, 1872, on
. beautiful evening, when even the flow
ers exhale more strongly their subtle per-
fumes and the human heart has a desire
to open. Here in the twilight of the old
garden grandmother heard the first words
of love.
Beneath the deeper shadow of the
trees. wrapped in the sweet odor of the
flowers. two figures, a young girl and a
young man. walked side by side with
slow steps
young man. "And what difference does
it make? Suppose ! never return from
the war? Who would care? I am
alone in the world"
you have friends. Horace"
None"
"And II" said she very low.
"Your' cried he. You would care
least of any,"
There was a long silence. The gravel
sounded beneath their slow tread The
night fell little by little. Horace heard
. stifed sound and turned
'You are crying, ClarisseT"
You hurt me sor'
'-Do you love me?'
She faltered. and his arms caught her |
and held her against his beating heart. |
Unresisting. she raised her face to his. |
and their lips met in n long kiss-the first. /
Horace left the next morning.
She waited long for him. The remains l
Of the grand army returned without him.
Still she hoped on. Years passed, and /
the war ended. Many who had been i'm
prisoned returned, but still he delayed.
She pictured him buried beneath the Il
snow with numberless others who had /
dropped exhausted along the line OF the
terrible march.
Her parents urged upon her the duty
Of selecting I husband from the suitors
who surrounded her. She resisted as
long as possible. then yielded, vanquished
by their insistance and by the certainty Il
Of his death. She gave her hand to Count
i'Estrarville.
beneath the trees. She was sitting on n
bench in the garden when a stranger ap-
preached her along the path. AS he
neared her she recognized him. 1t was
Horace.
He came toward her with outstretched
arms. then stopped. as though surprised
1t the GOODNESS of her greeting.
1T is too late" she said: 81 am already
married
He exnlained tho reason of his Ion1y
absence. Captivity. Siberia, the mines,
all the frightful sufferings he had gone
through. sustained always by a belief in
ier love and her loyalty to the unspokenI
row made in the twilight of the garden.
Never had he lost the hope that he would
some day return to find her waiting for
him-that their lives, so long divided,
would be at last united forever.
"You lied to me that night when you
,aid you loved mer' he cried. the bitter
ness of his disappointment making him
.ruel.
NO" she said. 81 loved you. and /
'hall always love you. 1t is just for that
reason that you must continue dead to
ne. 1 cannot trust myself with. you
And he left her.
This was the story of grandmother'sI
ife as l read it from the old diary / re-
nembered an old man who lived in the
and whom we children call
I'd 1.-The Chevalier." / identified him
with Horace. When grandmother be-
anne a widow and when she was an old
ady TO US. he came to live near her, and
hey spent many long hours together in
he sweetest and purest com panionship.
understood that the two old friends
we're dear to one another because their |
affection had been founded upon some
hing more than friendship They were
90 old to have aught to fear from gossip
ng tongues, and they had so much time
70 make up that they could not deny