Courier Democrat., 1901-04-04


| her own home. A cable car ran out to
the pretty place. She would go there.
She would call at the house. She would
ask the lady who dwelt therein: what
is Charlie Everett to you?" When that
! was answered she would know how
worthy of continued loyalty was her
confessed lover. But not until the
morning. She would not go until morn.
| ing
Shame to doubt him!' cried he1
heart through all the sleepless night
that followed. But her rigid will ST.
fenced that assailing protest. So the
morning of the beautiful day that
followed found her at the gate of a
cosey cottage set back amid a group of
bare-branched naples. There were
drifts of snow in the little garden, but
the air was warm with the effulgent
prescience of spring. So peaceful was
the place, the hour, her courage almost
failed her. All the blinds were down.
The entrance she chose brought her
to a side door. She rang the bell. A
maid appeared.
MAY L" Mary Vane began, then
faltered. For whom should she ask?
eyes," the girl replied. "Come in.''
Marveling, Mary followed her. She
led the way into front room. The
curtains were drawn. Tapers burned
in the dimness. At first Mary fancied
that
"There was silence, and nothing there
But silence, and scents Of eglanterre,
And jasmine, and roses, and rose
mary"
Then she saw that there was some
thing else. A coffin, and in 1t lying a
white-robed form, with folded hands,
and lilies lying on the pulseless breast.
Mary shrank back.
"Oh," she cried. "She is Dead"
eyes, Miss. 1 thought you wished
to see her. A good many of the neigh
bors were in last evening. She had
many friends hereabout for all he1
misfortunes Amt those lilies beauti-
full? Mr.. Charlie sent them. Twenty
eight for twenty-eight years"
Mary went nearer, looked down on
the dead face, a young face which had
once been lovely, but bore the unmis-
taxable impress of sorrow and suffer
ing.
cts not many men," went on the
servant, wiping her eyes, "who would
do what Mr.. Charlie did. After his
brother was injured in that railroad
wreck four years ago he begged Mr.
Charlie in dying to take care of his
young wife. Mr.. Charlie promised
him. He has supported her and given
her every comfort since. She was al
ways weakly, and when her mind gave
out from brooding over her husbands s
death, and she was such charge, Mr..
Charlie was that gentle and patient
with her-my! She had spells of un-
derstanding. Then she'd beg not to be
sent to an asylum-not that Mr.. Char
lie would think of such thing. She
wouldn't. hurt bird, poor dear!
There! That is Mr.. Charlie now!"
A step crossed the hall. Looking
pale and worn, Charlie Everett came
into the room. His face lighted up at
sight OF his sweetheart.
'You-Mary!" he cried.
"Hush" she begged. She broke
down, crying bitterly. Don't look at
NEEDN'T speak to me until I have
told you how it is that I am here"
She brokenly whispered the truth.
"You can never trust me again." she
said in conclusion.
He took her in his arms.
Perhaps should have spoken to
you of her, but hated to cast so dark
a shadow over your young life. I
could not keep up two households, and
she was penniless. She was my charge
before learned to love you. My first
duty was to her. The doctors agreed
she could not live long. AS for trust
ing-my dearest, you must forgive me
for not having confided in you'll you,
for your doubt of me. So we are equal.
Is it not Whittier who writes:
Love scarce is love that never knows
The sweetness of forgiying!"
They passed out together into the
brilliance of the Sabbath morning.