Valentine Democrat. (Valentine, Neb.) 1900-1930, 1901-07-25
Edwin Brown" repeated Anne.

Edwin Brown" repeated Anne.
began at the beginning again and read
1t over carefully, dwelling in particu-
lar on n paragraph:
when I think of the apparent hope
lessness of our engagement, 1 feel that
l can't in honor bind you to It. My
struggles here in my profession have
as yet barely gained M a meager live
lihood, and the time when I can offer
you even the simplest of homes seems
desperately distant. With the ocean
stretching between us it is difficult
to discuss this vital matter, but, Anne,
darling, l want you to know that as
dearly as I love you I will not be self
ish enough to keep you to q promise
that was generously made when hope
shone brightly upon us. If the
thought of me interferes with your art
or arrests your study in any way put
me from your mind. / can't bear to
feel that 1 should be a hindrance or
a drag to YOU" Here Anne
stopped reading because she could no
longer discern the written words
through the mist of tears that had
gathered v g her eyes. She felt blind
ly about for a handkerchief to bravely
dab them away, that she might go on
with the letter, which continued in the
tenderest phrases to assure her of his
constant, unfailing love. She knew
that he was sincere; that her welfare
was all that actuated the letter.
How like him." she murmured.
mo other man but Edwin could write
a love letter like that, and 1 hope he
never will again; l could not stand
it,"
When at last she fell asleep, the
letter was clasped in her hands, which
lay folded on the steamer rug, an ad-
dition to the scanty bedding on her
cot, and her breath came in quick
gasps. like the sobs of a little child.
The 'atelier" was crowded when
she went to her work in the wet clay
the next morning, and she hoped to
gain her OWE corner without attract
ing attention. But her pale cheeks
did not escape the notice of the tall
American who was perpetrating a sad
ly misshapen figure lear her own
well blocked out work.
"Are you not well, Miss Weber, he
asked, with a note in his voice of
deeper feeling than the occasion
seemed to demand.
quite we'll, thank you," Anne re-
piled YEARLY, and the young man
looked at her reproachfully. He want
ad fo fall har fhof che uyo dN{nn OIL
together wrong, abusing her health,
wasting her strength, and, worst Of
all. breaking his heart, but experience
had taught him that it was not a safe
ground of conversation.
1t was the day on which the master,
the great Partisan sculptor, was ex-
pected to criticize, and Anne applied
herself a%ssiduously to her clay, which.
under her deft fingers, rapidly grew
more and more like the model.
II am through with this" said the
young man at length. 81 have tested
my artistic ability and found that l
can't even mold a snow man." He
scornfully chopped OF the ose of his
clay figure, which only added another
deformity to the already maimed-look-
ing creature.
my old nan always said that art
vas not in ur blood, but I wanted to
see for myself, and 1t didn't take me
long. Don't think l have not realized
how impossible my work Is, but l
have stayed in the atelier-you know
why-and I'll stay yet If you will give
any hope" he added eagerly.
mo, don't stay" Anne replied, soft
ly. He was such a dear boy she could
not be anything but gentle to him.
well, then," he said, disconsolate-
ly, "In throw art over and go into
the string business with Dad, as he
has always wanted me to do"
"That will be better, l Am sure"
said Anne, smiling at the mutilated
torso, for the young man had been
carelessly hacking it while he talked.
1.-The old man is certainly dead anx-
ious for the prodigal's return, for l
got a fifty-dollar cablegram from him
this morning, asking me to pull up
stakes and go at once. The dear old
chap wants a junior partner, now bus