Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1904-01-05
HIS SECOND WIFE


y
all about it. / know people won
dered when we were married. and
said was an old flame, and that it
was preposterous for old people like US
to marry. But, my child, 1 don't care
Yes, you do seem like a child to me;
eighteen, did you say? And this is
your engagement ring. Pretty, isn't
it? How it brings back the old times
when l was just your age, and John
and l was counting"
There was a pause. and one small
wrinkled hand was raised to brush
away a tear Then the sweet old voice
continued
You see. John was what they call
a bound boy. He was just eight years
old when he came to live with us;
and he stayed until, well, until he
married her. You knew Eunice? She
was q handsome girl, if 1 do say it.
Far prettier than l. l never did count
much for good looks. but for all that
I took pretty we'll with the beaux.
But 1 didn't care a jot for any one of
them but John. He was five years
older than /, and from the time l was
a mite of three, my constant compan-
ion and protector. How he did stand
by me If there was any fraeas at
school, as there always was more or
less with part of us on one side, and
part of us on the other. Well, matters
went along smooth enough until l was
nearly nineteen. Then the first and
hardest trial | ever had to contend
with, came like a thunder bolt from
clear sky.
John and 1 became engaged on my
eighteenth birthday, and father and
mother We're well pleased. Don't very
often happen that way, does it? But
it did in our case. You see, was the
only child, and John was a fine, man
ly fellow, fully capable of making his
own way in the world, and always
like a son to father and mother. How
they loved that boy! They never seem
ed quite the same after he disappoint-
ed them so. And to think they never
knew the truth. Oh, it was shame
full. But there, l must not judge her.
sorry enough in after years. I'll show
you the letters some time. 1t was
them that wrought all the mischief.
They were written while / was West,
visiting my mothers brother and his
family. You see, dear, Eunice and 1
were the best of friends, and l never
suspected till afterward how much
I'll I l.
her for taking him when he wanted
her.
Il tried to think it was the Lords
will, and stayed West two years try
ing to reconcile myself to the newt
able. Then mother was taken sick,
and l came home. John and Eunice
Rid little one ~ that time, and some
hoy those baby fingers helped to heal
the breach; and before knew it l was
loving Johns baby as well as / did
him, only in a different way, perhaps,
for there would come times when il
seemed as if my life was blank They
were apparently SO happy, l so lone
ly, trying to crush out the love l now
felt 1t n sin to harbOr. Somehow,
though, ii survived the years; for
John is as dear TO me to-day, my
child. as In the long ago; when be-
meath the apple-boughs he placed this
ring upon my finger. 1t was in the
fair spring-time and the old orchard
was like dream of fairy-land"
Again the sweet voice quavered and
broke. and tear dropped from the
down-cast eyes and glittered like a
diamond on the worn circlet of gold.
Once more memory carried her back
TO the time when she was light-heart-
ed girl. with not a cloud to dim the
sunshine of the hour; when beneath
the apple-boughs she plighted her troth
to the man she loved.
"Ah child" she resumed. finally. IF
my life could have been like that al
ways: but it was not destined to be so.
Nethinks, sometimes. the trial was
needed 10 strengthen and perfect what
otherwise might have been a weaker
character: one that knowing naught of
trouble. failed in that deep sympathy
for less fortunate mortals. How well
| remember the day l received that
letter l felt sure ii was from John
by the writing on the outside. You
see. she had initiated his hand so
closely that l failed 10 detect the diff
ference. II possible l was more than
usually pleased 10 receive it, as il was
several days later than on former oc-
casions, and l was beginning TO chafe
at the delay.
"Humming that sweet old love song,
Annie Laurie. FASTENED TO my room.
always wanted 10 be alone when
read Johns letters. You understand,
my dear? How my fingers trembled as
I opened II. and with sense Of happi-
ness. too great for words, bent over the
closely written pages. Alas, how diff
ferent from the other missives l had
received from him. He loved me still.
but it grieved him TO say. only as
sister. In Eunice he had found his
ideal. Would i not release him from
ed in marriage. would only terminate
in the ruin OF three lives He begged
me not TO mention the affair TO my
parents. as he would tell them himself
and thus spare me the ordeal Spare
me, All. my child. that would have
been nothing In comparison with what
/ suffered then
From that hour my whole being
was changed. No longer a happy
Aeartsd child. but q grave and thought