The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1900-05-20

one of the descendants of the doughty,
original John Jacob Aston
Miss Meta Kane, as all people in society
will recall, had the gift of candor. She
did not think it was not important to be
happy. But she did think it was neces-
sary to be sincere in what you did. She
said New York was good enough in its
way, but she preferred to live abroad.
So she did, having married Louis Bel,
After his death she continued to live
abroad, and so il came about that she
met Eugene Cruger at Cannes.
And they were married. A child was
born to them, whom they agreed TO call
Angelic. There were six years of the bat
tie Of the strong, as personified in Meta
Kane Cruger, and the weak, as embodied
in Eugene Cruger, and the weak went to
the wall Mrs. Cruger was granted an
absolute divorce Little Angelic Cruger
died, and her mother welded for the third
time. AS the wife of Chevalier Raoui
Mourichon, a knight of the Legion of
Honor, she still lives in Paris.
Eugene Cruger was no longer referred
to as Apollo. His shoulders were bent
His hair was gray. His valet complained
of strange seizures that left his m: ster
a gibbering, half-human thing.
Epilepsy" said the doctor. There is
no cure. With good care your life may
be prolonged"
One afternoon ne sat in the Cafe Chincis
in the Bots de Boulogne. He watched the
stream of carriages and the haut monde,
the beau monde and the de ni-mo lde pass
by. He sauntered to the cashier desk
and talked aimlessly to rAliave bis ltre-
illness. A girlish dame du compton an
swered him briefly. She had but lately
been promoted from scullery maid be-
low stairs, and was little shy in her
new position. He saw that she was bit
annoyed, a bit more pleased, and more
than all, awed, by this attention. He
saw, too, that she was handsome In a
half-savage way, and he was struck by
the expression of her black eyes, deep,
like wells.
Eugene Cruger was a man of impulse.
He told Olga Salomea Heitz of his lone
illness and his illness. He begged her to
come and nurse him to the end, which
could not be far off. They went, this
gentleman of leisure" and this plebian
girl, to pretty secluded chateau in one
of the most secluded spots in Fountaine-
bleau. There he waited for death. So
tender was the nursing Of the faithful,
ignorant woman. that death stood aloof,
though near, for eight years. When
Eugene Cruger did finally die, they
thought the woman from the steppes
would die, too, of grief She had but one
bit Of comfort, the scrap of paper that
proved his love and remembrance.
The fortune had dwindled from the
million mark to s125C0O. But it was a
great fortune to the Russian girl. Mrs.
Cruger No. l, now Mrs. ]. Frederick
Tams, wife of the yachtsman, and Mrs.
Cruger No. 2. the Baroness Mourichon,
offered to compromise with her for &c.
900. She listened in sullen silence. The
dog-like devotion had gone out of her
eyes. In it's place there smoudered a
fire of rebellion likely to break out into
native savagery. The scrap of paper was
all that remained to her of the dead man.
She would never give 1t up.
Then Eugene Cruger's widows had re-
course to law. They are contesting the
will contained in that scrap of paper,
filed in the surrogate's office.