The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1904-06-18

Cd Mary: ''hs cursed me, and left me
poor
"But-"
"But have all the fragments" add
ed Mary, opening a purse heaped to the
clasp with small pieces of paper; "see
there they are"
Sarah glanced at them, but did not
speak.
sit would be q specimen Of patchwork
that the law would hardly acknowledge"
said the widow, "but you would not dis
pute the will, Sarah, If l, by patient
study and great care, render this tesla"
ment complete asainT'
"No," answered Sarah Eastbell.
SIN my husbands lifetime dared not
make him rich; and now, in memory of
much kindness, of old trust-of new con-
fidence, may I say?-I have the courage
to remain poor"
She held the open purse over the fire,
and the fragments fell from it into the
red Goals. Reuben and Sarah started for
ward to arrest her hand, but 1t was too
late.
"You should not have done this,
Mary" cried Reuben.
ut was not q just will" answered the
widow; II told your father so when he
placed 1t in my hands, although did not
tell him that never in all my life should
/ avail myself of his munifcence."
"IIe had wronged your father In some
manner which we cannot even guess at
but which he owned himself. You told
me that" said Reuben.
HE was strange that day. 1t might
have been the raving Of a mailman"
Gas that" said Lucy, pointing to the
fire, twas the act of a madwoman."
II think not" answered Mary conf
IDENTIFY; ut is an act of justice to the man
entitled to his fathers money, and who
will marry this brave young lady in pos
session."
"She has given me up" said Reuben
dryly; but Mary turned from one to an
other and read no doubt or distress on
either face. Here were two lives in the
sunshine at last.
II believe it was always Simon Gull
wick's wish that Reuben should have
this money" continued Mary; 'he did
not know Of my marriage, and l dared
not tell him for my homes sake, and SO
we went on from one complication to an
other. There were only two wills: the
first left all to his sister, the second to
me-and the second l could not, and did
not care to prove. The answer to the
riddle came round In the way l thought
it might do, If were watchful and re-
served-for l knew In what high esti-
nation Sarah Eastbell held her cousin,
and how she had made up her mind to
give an obstinate man his rights. She
and together planned more ways than
one-she very artless, l very artful per-
haps-but the best and simplest and hap
piest way has come without our plotting"
But your" said Sarah and Reuben
almost together.
"You two are not likely to forget me,
or my little daughter hereto shut me
from your friendship-to help me In the
world, should l want help"
"Help?' echoed Reuben; "why, 1t Is all
yours"
"You can't prove that" said Mary en-
phatically, land l would prefer to be de-
pendent on your bounty. l will not be too
proud to ask for a pension, when my lit
tie girl grows up and tires of her moth
err"
"Tho future, for you and Tots, you
will leave to Sarah and me-" said Reu-
ben; "you will trust in those whom you
have trusted SO much already"
LAS they will trust In me now" said
hands to them.
1t Is a fair picture on which the cur
tain il rung down-on perfect confidence,
and true affection and prosperity--on
life opening out before these three with
no shadows on the scenes beyond. Reu-
ben and Sarah will live happily forever
afterward-as young couples always
should in books-and Mary and her
daughter will be their faithful friends
and loving companions to the end of life.
In the red glow of the sunset of our
story, stands poor Lucy Jennings-grave
and stony as the Libyan sphinx-.com-
menting but little upon the happiness
about her, and yet feeling that it reaches
to her heart, and makes her more like
other women.
Reuben'S brother-in-law, one Thomas
Eastbell, will not visit Worcestershire
again, and Reuben's wife will not learn
for years of his disappearance in the
Australian bush-where we can afford
to let the last Of our villains hide him
self.
In the bright early morning, gazing
from the window of her room at the fair
landscape beyond, with the silvery laugh
ter Of little children ringing upward from
the lawn. and with her husbands arm
linked within her own, Second-cousin
Sarah will talk no longer of Sedgs Hill
being an unlucky house.
(The end.)
Tm& dNAP Ku MT vouHA