The Portland daily press., 1900-06-28
THE THREE LETTERS
Dorothy Sargent, Being In Doubt,
Left the Choice Of q Hus-
band to Chance.
BY LOUISE CLARK.
Observation-Disclosures

''Why isn't she married."
'They say she has buried her heart In
Charlie Cutters grave. You remember,
poor Charlie was thrown from his horse
some FIVE years ago and broke his neck
and her heart at one blow. She is a stun
ner, though, isn't she? No use trying to
get her, Billy. Settle down and calm
yourself. My sister says she never had
n spark Of sentiment about her. But now
she seems to have lost all interest in
anything. oh, no, not a mean, stingy
streak in her naturel She is very gem
erous with her money, but gives as
though she did not care straw what she
was giving the dust to-unnatural, very.
/ am afraid of her myself, but she is a
thoroughbred; never saw her do or look
thing out of the way"
"By Jove, think the girl has heart
within her, and If l were going to be in
town this winter l would try and reach
it. She walks like a queen. What is she
doing here?"
"Going to the cemetery. They say she
comes here at all hours of the day, but
there Is never q flower on Charles grave.
She makes no outside show. Give me a
match"
''Does she live aloner'
''No-a houseful of servants and o
used to 60 Summing, but l heard she got
mixed up in a row one night and was
hustled off to the station house before
the policeman found out who she was.
Then the whole force went down on
their knees, and she was sent home, SO
they saw, in the Black Maria. Anyway,
she gets some one else to slum nowadays,
and she pays the bills"
SIS she bluestocking"
Certainly not. She is nothing but
what q man would want his wife,
mother or sister to be, with couple Of
millions thrown in. She takes box by
the season at the Savoy and turns it over
to the young folks, like dear that she Is;
but, by Jove, she would give you the
same kind of nod IL she met you as she
would her cook, and there would be no
more heart or soul in her greeting than
In dish of uncooked mushrooms. hate
TO have woman so independent and so
polite that one can't catch hold of a
straw for a good foundation for criti-
cism. l wish you were going to be here,
Billy. If any one could move her. you
could. But she is a sumner and no mis-
take. Here comes Ned in his trap
alone too. Good luck. Wen ride home.
Hi, Ned! Room for two? Thanks"
Today Dorothy Sargent entered the 81.
lent city of the dead with more than
sadness in her sweet face, and as she
reached the grave that held all that was
mortal Of the one man she had ever
loved she pressed her face against the
marble cross and in her anguish cried
aloud:
'Help me, dearestw
Suddenly, as though the load were lift
ed from her heart and her prayer an
cuara1 CHI cnranU from tho ground and
hurried home.
Going at once to her room, she took
from her desk three letters. Bowling her
head upon her hands, she whispered:
''Whateyer is is right. My love will
guide me. will be satisfied"
A messenger had brought TO her the
first letter from the National club. She
drew 1t from the envelope and reread the
lines she knew she would have to an
swer:
Before you opened the envelope which holds
this letter, Dorothy Sargent, you knew who was
the writer, and you knew what he had to tell
you.
BY breaking the seal you have proved you are
willing once again to listen to me.
have returned to my native land after an exile
Of ten weary years. God knows did my best to
give my wife the love she crsyed. and he knows
did my best to make her happy and was as true
as steel TO her, but in his wisdom, which dare
not question: he gave her pure mind the power OF
seeing beyond what gave her, and the dear child
returned to her Maker broken hearted leaving me
and four motherless children to you, my one love,
my one thought and my dearest wish.
Would that you were poor that might give to
you what you could not otherwise havei
Nothing but pity for Marions children, for my
children. can tempt you TO come to me now.
Come ] will make you love me, will, and you
must know IL.
No man ever gave TO a woman purer love than
Is offered to you again.
Give to me this one word crave IN the name
OF the innocent woman who knew she held the
heart that belonged to another. l cry TO you
and not in vaini JOIN II. NoRToS.
Rigid and white as death, she threw
the letter on the burning Goals and
watched the flames devour the paper till
there was nothing left but a gray mass
that trembled and fell to pieces as a
Whit of wind blew across the CRATE.
Opening the second letter, she read:
Dearest-For the years have known and loved
you haze never till now dared to tell you Of my
love.
You were rich; was poor. Shame on me that
would so belittle you'll As though you did not
know an honest mans heart Is worth more than
Crnsus' wealth.
You know what I have done In the scientific
world. but you do not know what have accom-
plshed has been through you aud that for you
alone 4 have succeeded.
4 dare now offer to you the heart and life which
will 20 on and on working for you, Epurred by
The glorious knowledge that you have said, u
love you"
AIay ! come to you and take you in my arms
and hold you close to the heart that beats for you
alonel
That / have told you OF my love makes me
happy. That you will bid me coma is the prayer
Of thine, SYLVESTER NEwccNB.
As the poor girl finished reading this
letter she threw it, as she had done the
other, In the fire. AS she watched it
burn, she said aloud:
81 could be happy with him. His pro-
fession would be more TO him than he
kmagines. and he might not see cannot