Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1902-07-24

read the letter.
I'VE shall have some happy days
yet" he said. 81 shall be glad to see
the child safe and we'll"
Years afterward I saw the letter
that Lady Cuimore wrote to her hus-
| band when the child was believed to
be out of danger, little dreaming that
after all her care, he would be amongst
the angels first.
Beloved Rudolph:-Do you remem-
Der the words, "A life for a life? l
took away one; have saved another.
! The child is out of danger, and will
recover; but I am very ill., Shall l
come home to die, or will my atone
ment be more complete if | remain
away from you? Remeber, you prom
ised that I should die looking on your
| face. l feel that heaven has forgiven
me-"
There were weeping and wailing at
! Ullamere when it was known that
Lady Culmore lay at deaths door,
| She had not been smitten down by
smallpox, although she had hung
him; but fever had stricken her. She
| had no warning of her coming illness.
| She fell one night as she was singing
the child to sleep. She rallied suf-
| ficiently to write that letter, and she
rallied no more.
Every precaution was taken, and
Lady Culmore was brought to her old
| rooms in the eastern wing.
She was alarmingly i'll. The doc
tors called it low fever. 1 think that
it was exhaustion, and that she had
really given her life to the child. She
had all her senses, all her faculties,
but no strength. She could not raise
her hands. To my intense delight,
was allowed to help in nursing her,
and tried my best to cheer her. The
sun came shining into her room; the
summer air was sweet now with he'll
iotrope and mignOnette. We could hear
the birds singing and the wind STIR
ring the branches of the trees, But
there were no terrible fancies now,
there was no dream of a child's voice
crying, or of a childs tiny hand rap
ping against the window-pane. Some.
times in her sleep she spoke OF little
Willie.
One morning she called me to her.
l knelt down by her side, and she drew
my face down to hers.
Kate" she said, 81 loved you the
first moment saw you. I am so glad,
my dear, that you will be Lady Gull
more"
81 shall never be Lady Culmore," 1
said. 81 am to be Ulric's wife,
Rudolph will never marry again,
and I am going to die" she replied.
you will be Lady Culmore, Kate, and
I am glad of it. I wonder when shall
die? / am impatient for the time. for
1 have fancy that Rudolph will let
me die in his arms Let me know when
the doctors tell you that my hour is
come. When l am gone, you will all
know the truth about me. I could not
bear that you SHOULD know it while 1
live, but you cannot hurt me by words
or looks when I am dead"
''Nor would ever willingly hurt you
at ALL" 1 said; but she whispered
family
''You do not know, dear; you do not
know what l did,
Il do not care!" I cried impetu-
ously. 81 am quite sure you could not
do anything very wrong"
"You think SOP" she murmered, with
a faint wringing of the hands. Kate,
you will know my story some day; al
ways remember that it was for his
sake, and because I loved him so. You
must not forget
Thinking over the whole story as I
do now, 1 am sure that the best thing
she could have done was to keep her
sad story secret. Even loving her as
l did, could not, after had heard it,
have gone to her and kissed her. 1t
was much better that we should not
know the truth while she still lived.
What could we have said to ner?
One evening Lady Culmore was 1y-
ing, as 1 thought, fast asleep. Every
thing in the house was calm and still;
not a sound broke the silence. It was
my turn to sit UP with her, and one of
the nurses sat in the adjoining room.
l was thinking that Lady Culmore
slept soundly, and was perhaps
trif1e better, when suddenly she opened
her eyes, with bright, pleased, sur
prised smile. She half raised herself
on her elbow, and looked at the door.
Even to this hour 1 can recall the thrill
of horror that passed through me when
l saw and heard her. With a bright
out her hands, as though in loving
greeting.
Little Willie" she exclaimed, in
her low weak voice, little Willie, how
did you come here?" Her eyes seemed
to follow some shadowy form, as
bedside Little Willie" she cried
again, what has brought you here?"
She seemed to wait for his answer;
and then she added, t'To take me with
you-me? Are you quite sure, dar-
ling?" Another pause; then she said,
''Of course will. 1 must see Sir Ru-
dolph, then 1 will come. Wait for me,
little Willie
l knew that he was at home in his
little white bed, fast esleep, and well
watched. I touched her gently.
t:Lady GILMORE" l said, you are
dreaming
She looked at me, and I saw death
in her eyes.
Il am not dreaming, Kate; I am wide
awake Do Won see little Willie2