Troy weekly news. (Troy, Idaho) 1897-1933, 1905-06-23


near proving fatal to more than one of
u.s."
THAT unhappy man." said Mr.. iona
than, had telegraphed to say that he
would be with me that night. But l
felt half inclined to start for Essex with
out waiting for him, and chance the con-
dition Of the house. But look! here are
two old friends Of yours coming this
way. Silas."
Such was the fact. Walking up the
pathway towards the house were Martha
Jennings and Josiah Cook.
l FASTENED to meet the good, kind crea-
ture who had sheltered me, fed me and
clothed me when l was houseless and
destitute. She was dressed with I'M
usual smartness-a white bonnet, a blue
silk dress, and brght-colored, or rath-
er many-colored, shawl. Josiah was also
got up in an unusual style; bright green
satin necktie, buff waistcoat and white
hat.
After little conversation, the secret
came out; the worthy pair had been mar
ried that morning.
Married. l exclaimed; "why l had
not the least idea that such thing was
ever thought Off
w hlOIc hdu we, MUSTER lolidS,
few weeks ago." answered Martha,
blushing, land, you know, you have not
seen us since Christmas. So, as you
had kindly sent me an invitation to come
down and see you, thought l would
take the liberty to bring Josiah along
with me, and make it sort of marriage
trip"
II am very much delighted to see you
- - II
your honeymoon l said, shaking a hand
Of each. "But you might as well have
invited us to your wedding"
Martha laughed and blushed; and then
my father and Mr.. Jonathan offered their
warm congratulations to the happy bride
and bridegroom.
"And are you still at the Corinthian,
Jcsiah?" l inquired.
NO" he answered. Martha has per-
suaded me to relinquish public life, and
her father has procured for me an APP
pointment upon the railway as a porter"
little time afterwards, Martha came
to me with a radiant countenance. "Only
think" she said; that dear, good Mr.
Jonathan is going to set us up in hush
ness for your sakel And, Master Silas
what did | use to say when you made
such a fuss about the little l could do
for you-didn't tell you you would be
rich some day, and what fine things you
would do for me?
But am not rich my good Martha"
l said, smiling, land it is not 1 who have
done this for you"
"Oh, but it's all the same, SIR" she
said, with very sly look
Presently my father, Martha, and Jo-
siah went into the house. But Mr.
Jonathan remained behind, and taking
my arm. strolled with me across the
lawn.
"Silas. my lad" he safid, in kind
voice, the sight of that happy couple
has set me thinking upon a subject
have long had in my hearth Although
have never mentioned it, l know all
about you and Clara. Mrs Wilson told
me what she knew, and have picked up
the rest here and there. l have waited,
however, until now In the first place,
wished to know you better, to Judge
of your disposition; and, in the second
place, although the ties that bound you
to that unhappy woman were of the
weakest. yet, after the dreadful circum-
stances that attended her death, we were
compelled in decency to allow a certain
time to elapse before the subject of love
and marriage could be preached"
"Ah, SIR" I answered mournfuIly.
CLARA has ceased to love me. She win
never forgive the wicked weakness of
my conduct in gaining her love while
another claimed me as her husband"
ut was very culpable," answered Mr..
Jonathan, gravely; "and in any other
person l could never have pardoned it;
but your life, my poor boy. has been so
exceptional, that it would be hard to
judge you by the rules of everyday
life"
And you forgive me-. darling?" 1
whispered as l held Clara in my arms.
Il was never angry with you" she
answered, softly. 81 only felt sad. and
that wished to die"
She was mine-mihe at last Nothing
could stand between us now save DEATH
Oh, the bliss. the rapture OF that mo-
mentl
am lying at her feet, with my head
resting against her and my face upturn-
ed towards hers, as l used to in the old
days. The cool air of the soft summers
night laden with the perfume of the clus-
tering roses, steals through the open lat
tice. There is no light save that of
the moon, that streams through the win
dow, chequering the floor with the shad-
ows of the overhanging leaves. One
broad beam glances over my darling's
head, making her golden hair glisten like
threads of gold. and falls full upon the
portrait of her mother that hangs behind
q