The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1904-05-13
told him? It would have been so sweet

feared, was there not some way IN
; which she might before it was too late,
wipe out the false impression she had
made tonight? She could not bear
the thought that he would think Bit
terly of her-afterward. Surely it
would be some comfort to him to know
the truth then. Yes, he must be told.
She would write a letter and confess
all If she lived, it would be de-
stroyed; if she died, it must be deliv-
cred
/ Il have sent you away from me, she
wrote, land am now breaking my
heart because | will never look into
your face again. David, tonight
acted part to you. l forced myself
to be cold and false. / made myself
fright to prevent you telling me of
your love. l knew that if you did so
would not have the strength to resist
you. | did not want you to guess that
l cared. | wanted you to think me a
heartless flirt-to despise me-any-
thing, rather than you should regret
or have heartache.
To-day my doctor told me that I
must go under the knife within the
next few days. He said that there was
a slight chance, but in my heart know
that, if do live, will be weak, sick
ly woman. But I don't believe there is
a chance, so want to tell you how dear
| you are to me before it is too late. l
love you as only a woman can love
the man who represents everything
that is good and strong and true to her.
| For nearly two years l have waited to
hear you say what you said tonight.
Six months ago I prevented you be-
cause | was not quite sure; | thought
it would be wiser for you to wait until
you returned l could not realize that
the glory of your love should be show
cred on me. l thought it fair for you
to see other women before you offered
your life to me.
David want you to understand how
listen to you tonight 1t was the
greatest sacrifice I have ever made in
my life, and | prayed for strength to
do it. My whole being revolted at the
part l set myself to play, although l
felt it was best for you-now and after
ward Can you forgive me, David?"
She then rang for her maid, and,
after explaining about what was to
happen TO her, she gave her the letter
and said what she wished her to do
with it.
No surgeon can ever be quite certain
to what length disease has spread
until he starts to use the knife, and
oftentimes he finds it more or less seri-
GUS than he anticipated
So it was that when DR.. Sanders
commenced to operate on Elizabeth
Trent he was agreeably surprised to
find that, instead of her case being
most complicated, it was merely an
ordinary one.
"She will be all right now, nurse, u
the great surgeon said after the oper-
alton. Fortunately. it has not been
so serious as we feared. 1t is a de-
cidedly interesting case, and she viii
pull through splendidly with careful
nursing"
1t was two weeks later when Eliza
| uClh dShCu hCi uiolu IL oliC hou w
stroyed the letter she had given. to her
on the eve of the operation.
Destroy it, Miss Elizabeth" the
woman answered Il thought you said
to post it if you lived"
"Oh Harmon! You surely have not
sent that letter."
Eyes, Miss Elizabeth, 1 have.
l Al 70
if anything happened to you, and tc
post it if you got safely through
operation. l waited until last night tc
make sure that you did not have a re-
lapse, then l thought it was time"
Before Elizabeth could answer 8
nurse came in with florists box il
her hand and bright smile on hel
face.
This is for you, Miss Trent" SHE
said. Shall unfasten it?"
Elizabeth cried out in joyous sur
prise at the wealth of beautiful flowers
with which the box was filled. Blu
her eyes went beyond them to letter
that lay partly hidden in their leaves.
at is from David she whispered
softly, as she gazed at the dear, ia
miliar handwriting AS she opened i
with quick, trembling fingers, the nurs,
and Harmon quietly went out of th'
room.
my darling" Elizabeth read. :"
!. have just received your letter. Onl!
half an hour before, l met Mansfield
and he told ME of your illness.
thought he must be mistaken, but h
said his wife had been to see you a
the hospital yesterday. My first i'm
pulse was to go and beg them to lie
me see you, but remembered that you
would not care to have me. Feelin.
deadly miserable, I went back to m.
rooms, and there found your lette
waiting for me, Oh, ELIZABETH |
seems too wonderful to be true-tha
you should love me like that. Why
my dear, you were never more lovabl
in my eyes than you were that night
You looked i'll and tired, and | longet
to have the right to take care of yo'
and shield you from all annoyances
When | remember the hard things
said | feel that it will take all my lif
to endeavor to wipe them out. Eliza
beth, almost as soon as you read thi