News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1903-03-18
Copyrtglt, 1901, by Charles mr. Sheldon
By CHARLES M. SHELDON,
Dr. of in Ills Steps" Robert EardyS Seven Days. Etc


t.++t.
i i x :. ~ I 49,"
was the world old illness which love
creates when it is baiiled. bufeted, dis
honored or misunderstood.
John Gordon had not been back to
Hope House ten minutes when VIII
liams called him up and sud That Bar
ton was CONSCIOUS and Lac. called Tor
his friend. Gordon at once went out
and WAS soo1 by Bagton's side.
The nurse and doctor and Harris
we're there and Gordon knew that Bar
TONS hour had come. The hrst word
that Barton spoke was request that
be be permitted to talk 10 Gordon alone.
The others went into the next room,
and Gordon kneeled and pct his hand
on that Of his friend.
"John," Barton whispered in his old
whimsical manner, 'the old cough Is
like daily paper, it has the last word.
No use to reply or explain. The editor
can get back at you in the next num-
Der. I'm done for, as the pancake said
when it was turned over"
He stopped and with great effort
raised up little. Gordon supported
him.
There, feel little easier. I never
wanted to die lying down. What |
wanted to say, John, there are two let
tiers, love letters, John, from the old
lady, Eltingham, you remember. They
IN,
am gone. The second one only came
this morning. l don't know what is in
it. But yOu-open-and read it,
Gordon was crying. He could not
keep back the tears of affection. His
love for Barton was almost like that
of the love between man and woman.
Don't cry, John. What's the differ
ence? There's one thing-I hope-you
and Luella-the coughs going to get
me. Don't let people look at me. I'm
not a handsome man as l used to be.
There's one thing
The voice sank, and yet even in that
last struggle the change from his APP
parent flippancy to the profoundest
seriousness was like the change from
sun to shade. Zone thing, John. Once
you said l never loved any one. I've
left some books and things to Hope
House. There's money enough to bury
me-directlonS in desk-don't have a
procession over a mile long" The
voice came back to it's seriousness
again. you said l never loved any
one-Grace Andrews-John-you under
stand The eye spoke the rest. And
in the tumultuous grief that flooded
John Gordon's soul he filled in the
broken gaps of that sOrroWful but
fragrant romance. The voice was a
whisper when it spoke again. mo use,
don't tell her-only add to her burden
God bless her-best woman in this city
She
The voice went out altogether and
John Gordon realized that the spirit
of that brave heart would soon cease
from all the earths struggles. He
summoned the doctor again and the
nurse and Harris came in. There was
nothing to do. Gordon held his hand
as the night deepened. Near midnight
he rallied and whispered to Gordon,
with a smile: Il love you, John. Good
by"
At 2 o'clock his spirit quietly went
out like child falling asleep, and
Gordon rose and passed into the other
room, trying to realize what all this
a richer man for this expert
ence of human friendship, but poorer
man for the loss out of his earth strug-
gle of one of the bravest, tenderest.
truest souls his manhood would ever
know.
Dear David" he said and let the
tears flow unrestrained. Your hope
less love story. Hopeless? Did ever
man love a woman like Grace Andrews
without ennObling himself?" And when
4 little later he went in and saw the
cold, pale face he thought he could see
here the triumph of loves great work |
n the glory which it always leaves |
with humanity, for as long as the |
world shall stand and men shall suf- |
'er, so long shall the true love of man |
'or woman redeem the earth from it's |
curse and give to both place Of honor |
with the divine.