The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1903-03-14

desire and whose intellectual suprem-
acy she felt the world would later
acknowledge. Combined with these
gifts he possessed a nature of un-
usual strength, a straightforward in
tegrity and a self-forgetful devotion
to high principles which could but
make powerful impression on girl
of Margaret's marked ability
Days and weeks few by, and II 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 lecture-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 spreading linden. "and each
feels rs I, q personal ownership. and
yet 1 never come but what this peace
fulness seems for me alone"
Margaret talked almost at random,
glancing now and then at her silent
companion, knowing intuitively what
his tense expression foreboded, yet,
womanlike, trembling and fearful,
while rejoicing in the knowledge.
''Fraulein, may 1 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 1 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 are to me-life,
love, everything" ms
AS he leaned toward her trying to
read her blushing, half-averted face,
she faltered, "Your father-what will
he think, what will he say?"
''My father-how long to have you
meet him; you( would win him for
ever" Wilhelm added smiling, IF
he once heard you express your fer
vid admiration for our great men
Ach! how envy them" he murmured
did 1 ever tell you of Elizabeth, my
cousin, who is like 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
continues: "Marburg, though quiet,
is beautiful; and-and-oh, Margaret,
mein Liebchen-my beloved-could /
not make your happiness?"
All the passion of 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; 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-
,ealed in broken sentences her whole
heart. The words were 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-
joiced as only mother can whose
one desire is her child's happiness.
HE is coming tomorrow, mother,
tomorrow at ten, for his answer.
Oh. am so happy, so happy"
Margaret had scarcely finished her
tremuious confidence when a sharp
ring of the bell startled them. 1.-The
postman; it must be he," exclaimed
Mrs. Listemann; ''our home letters
are long overdue"
In a moment the little maid tapped
at the door, delivering into Marga-
ret's hand a number of letters, unmis-
takably American from the amount
of postage and the numerous dues
with which they were stamped.
'.Now, isn't this what you call fair
treatment, Mutter mein," 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 i'm long, loose braids, was in her
chamber reading with absorbed inter
est the home news, her frequent low
laugh proving how interesting IL
all was. Finally, she reached for the
last one 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
over and over. n faint flush tingeing
her face. "Can il be from his father?
How foolish of me: we did not know
ourselves until today"
With an odd, strange sinking of
her heart she broke the seal and be-
gan to read:
ut is with fear and trembling that
I write you, and an overwhelming
dread that you may not understand
me, and yet something within tells
me you are noble and good, and will