Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1904-12-23

She WAS Il very shad"wy person t. me
in those days had not seen her since
we were both children, and as for her
letters they We're almost bore to me;
she lived such a different life from
mine and wrote of So many things l
had no interest in. On my knees l ask
her pardon now. l never understood
her.
1T was all planned by him-I have
no head for such things. Sadie helped
him Sadie was my friend-but Sadie
had not much to say about it, for he
seemed to know just how to arrange
1t all SO that no one ut the seminary
should know or even suspect what had
occurred till we got ready to tell them.
He did not even take his brother into
his confidence, for Wallace kept store
and gOssipcd very much with his
customers. Besides. he was very busy
just then selling out, for he was going
to the Klondike with William. and he
had too much on his mind to be bother
cd. or 80 William said. All this l must
tell you or you will never understand
the temptation which assailed me
when. having returned to Washington,
l awoke to my own position and the
kind Of men whom l could now hope
to meet. / was the wife-oh, the folly
of it-but this was known to so few,
and those were so far removed, and
one evening" friend Sadie-being dead
why not ignore the miserable secret
ceremony and cheat myself into be-
lieving myself free, and enjoy this
world Of pleasure and fashion as Cora
was enjoying 1t and-trust7 Trust
what? Why the Klondike! That
swallower-up Of men. Why shouldn't
1t swallow one more? Oh. know that
1t sounds hateful. but I was desper-
ute; had seen you.
Il had one letter from him after he
reached Alaska. but that was before I
left Owosso. I never got another. And
1 never wrote to him. l rode and
danced with you and went hither and
yon. lavishing money and time and
heart on the frivOlities which came In
my way. calling myself Veronica and
striving by these means to crush out
every remembrance Of the days when
was known as Antoinette and An
toinette only. For the Klondike was
far and its weather bitter. and men
were dying there every day, and no
letters came Il used to thank God for
this). and l need not think-not yet
whittier was tending. One thing only
made me recall my real position. That
was when your eyes turned on mine
your true eyes, SO bright with conf.
dence and pride. l wanted to meet
them full, and when I could not sud
denly knew why and suffered.
Il did not accept your attentions nor
agree to marry you without struggle.
You know that You can tell as no one
else can how held back and asked for
time and still for time, thus grieving
You and tearing my own breast, till q
Gay came-you remember the day when
you found me laughing like mad wo-
man in circle Of astonished friends ?
You drew me aside and said words
which hardly waited for you to finish,
for at last was free to love you. free
to love and free to say 50. The morn
Ing paper had brought news. A tele-
graphic dispatch from Seattle told how
a man had struggled into Nome. frozen,
bleeding and without accouterments OF
companion. 1t was with difficulty he
had kept his feet and turned in at the
first tent he came to. Indeed, he had
only time to speak his name before be
fell dead. This name was what made
this dispatch important to me. 1t was
William Pfeiffer. For me there was
but one William Pfeiffer in the Klon
dike-my husband-and he was dead
That was why you found me laughing
But not In mirth. am not so bad az
that. But because could breathe
again without feeling clutch abou,
my throat. I did not know till theu
how nearly I had been stifled.
THE week Of our marriage came. l
was mad with gayety and ecstatic with
hope. Nothing had occurred to mar
my prospects. But God had his eye
upon me and in the midst Of my happi.
ness and the hurry Of our final prepa.
rations his bolt fell. It struck me while
was at the-don't laugh; rather shud
der-at the dressmaker's shop In -Four.
teenth street. was leaning over q Ia.
bic, chattering like a maybe over the
way I wanted gown trimmed. when
my eye fell on a scrap Of newspaper
in which something had come rolled t.
madame. It was torn at the edge, but
on the bit lying under my eyes I saw
my husbands name, William Pfeifrer
and that the paper was a Denver one
There was but one william Pfeiffer IN
Denver-and he was my husband. And
l read-feelipg nothing. Then read
again, and the world. my world, went
from under my feet, for the man who
had fallen dead in the camp at Nome
was Wallace, Williams brother, and
not william himself. William had
been left behind on the road by his
more energetic brother, who had push
ed on for succor through the worst
storm and under the worst conditions
possible even in that God forsaken re
gion. With the lost one In mind, the
one word that Wallace uttered In sight
OF rescue was William. 1t was Wallace
who had fallen dead. and while William
might have persisted also. and doubtless
had, I had no certainty Of 1t. And ny
wedding day was set for Thursday.
"Why didn't tell Cora? Why didn'l
tell your Pride held my tongue: be-
sides, had had time to think before ]
saw either OF you, and to reason q BIZ
and feel sure that IL Wallace had been
spent enough to fall dead on reaching
the camp, William could never have
survived on the open road; for Wal
lace was the stronger Of the two and
the most hardy every way. Free
certainly was.- Some later paper would
assure me Of this. But for three nights
did not sleep.
THE caprice which had led me tc
choose the old Moore house to be mar
ried in led me to plan dressing there
on my wedding morning. 1t was early
when we started, Cora and I, fol
Waverley avenue, but not too early
for the approaches to that dreadful
house to be crowded with people, eager
to see the daring bride. Why should
have shrunk 50 from that crowd can