The Aberdeen Democrat. (Aberdeen, South Dakota) 1???-1909, 1903-03-20

acknowledge. Combined with these
gifts he possessed a nature Of I'M
usual strength, a straightforward in
tegrity and a self-forgetful devotion
to high principles which could but
make a powerful impression on a girl
of Margaret's marked ability.
Days and weeks flew by, and it was
August, the last day of the summer
semester. What is there that hastens
time-like love? What is it that
makes the world so fair-as love?
Wilhelm, as usual, was at the door
as Margaret left the l~ecture-room,
and slowly they walked toward the
Tiergarten, drawing in deep breaths
of the morning air.
81 know there are hundreds of peo-
pie here" said Margaret, as they sat
beneath a spreading linden, "and each
feels as /, a personal ownership, and
yet l never come but what this peace
fitness seems for me alone"
Margaret talked almost at random,
glancing o and then at her silent
companion, knowing intuitively what
his tense expression f~oreboded, yet,
~womanlike, trembling and fearful,
while rejoicing in the knowledge.
"Fraulein, may [ tell you something
of myself-my homer" questioned
Wilhelm, abruptly. Scarcely waiting
for the low assent, he exclaimed, pas
sionately: ''There has not been a
day since I saw you three years ago
that you have not filed my every
thought. Tomorrow you will leave
Berlin-I cannot let you go and not
tell you what you I to me-life,
love, everything"
AS he leaned toward her trying to
read her blnshing, half-averted face,
she faltered, "Your father-what will
he think, what will he say?"
my father-how I long to have you
meet him; you would win him for
ever" Wilhelm added smiling, eff
he once heard you express your fer
vid admiration for our great men
Ach! how l envy Them" he murmured
under his breath. "And Elizabeth
did l ever tell you of Elizabeth, my
cousin, who is like a daughter to my
father? She is alone in the world
and came to us five years ago. She
has given her life to us-she came
when all the world was dark-when
my mother died." Wilhelm rose as
he spoke, and Margaret knew by his
sudden pallor what that loss still
meant. After a moments pause, he
continued: 'Marburg, though quiet,
is beautiful; and-and-oh, Margaret,
mein Liebchen-my beloved-could I
not make your happiness?"
All the passion of a mans strong,
yet tender, love throbbed in the low
whispered words, and, trembling,
Margaret laid her hand in his as she
replied, family: Il cannot answer
now; l must see henry mother"
"She shall be mine!" he said.
AS in a dream they walked to Mar
garet's home, separating with one
thought, one hope-"To-morrow."
ITO bear, to nurse, to rear, to watch
and then to lose" Involuntarily
these words rose to Mrs. Listemann's
lips, as Margaret, on her knees, her
head resting in her mothers lap, re-
vealed in broken sentences her whole
heart. The words yer never spoken.
The pang which wrung the mothers
heart-the bitterness of abdicating
where SO long she had reigned first,
all-all were thrust aside, and draw
ing Margaret to her bosom she re-
1nion1 0r1xr n -oo%h1r .la.z
one desire is her child's happiness.
He is coming tomorrow, mother,
at ten, for his answer.
Oh, l am SO happy, so happy"
Margaret had scarcely finished her
tremulous confidence when a sharp
ring of the bell startled them. ..The
postman; it must be he," exclaimed
Mrs. Listemann; sour home letters
long overdue"
In a moment the little maid tanned
at the door, delivering into Marga-
ret's hand a number of letters, un1nis-
takably American from the amount
of postage and the "dues"
with which they were stamped.
"Now, isn't this what you call fair
treatment, Mutter MEN," cried Mar
garet, gayly; .'six for you and five
for me? But there's luck in odd num-
bers, you remember"
An hour later, Margaret, in a dress
ing gown and slippers, her hair hang
ing in long, loose braids, was in her
chamber reading with absorbed inter-
est the home news, her frequent low
laugh proving how interesting it
all a Finally, she reached for the
last n of her letters. The handwrit-
ing was unfamiliar, the postmark al
most illegible. Holding it closely to
the lamp, she slowly deciphered "Mar.
burg" Margaret read the postmark
and over, a faint flush tingeing
her face. "Can it be from h%issfather?
How foolish of me: we did not know
ourselves until to-day"
With an odd, strange sinking of
her heart she broke the seal and be-
gan to read:
1T is with fear and trembling that
l write you, and an overwhelming
dread that you may not understand
me, and yet something within tells
you r noble and good, and will
comprehend and not misjudge me.