Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1909-01-14

/ bdlilSOu uONn 10 the ground, presume,
not that | know much about it. But as
he hath hidden me to the consumption of
! clicquot and bait, if Coriander wins at
| Epson, it is fair to presume he'd like to
see him well through his snalls.' to be-
/ gin with"
/ All we go laundering on in our blind
/ ness and ignorance. Can even the most
! far-sighted of us ever predicate twenty
four hours ahead? What a mess Provi-
/ dence makes of our intricate calculations
/ What shallow fools we seem, after all our
/ study. | wonder what Grenyile Rose
would have said. if anybody had limited
to him that within ten days his destiny
would be bound up with Coriander's? Can
/ you not fancy his laughing retort: Il
never race, What's Hecuba to me- or
! | to Hecuba 2" Yet it will be So
Grenville losses the paper on one side.
J and in a careless way takes up his letters.
! Two or three are thrown aside; but his
/ pulse quickens. and his handsome fea-
| lures flush a little. as he catches sight of
| that firm. delicate hand he knows so well.
! Maude's letter had been near the bottom
| of the pile, or he had not glanced over
the paper before reading it. That cousin
of his had wound her way into his heart
strangely of late He hardly knew him
| self how it had all come to pass. He had
! bullied her as a boy: be even, till quite
! lately. had Snubbed her as a man. He
had liked her. ay. loved her. in cousinly
| fashion, all his life. How was he to have
| dreamt that the gawky school girl who
accompanied him in his fishing expedi-
tons at CHM was to grow into the love-
| ~ girl Maude had of late blossomed into?
/ He was no fool and had as much COM
mand over his passions as fve-and-twen-
| ty that sets up for no superlative virtue
and lives in the world, can usually lay
claim to. That anything could be more
injudicious than a love affair between
himself, with mere underlined prospects,
| and the daughter of his ruined spend
thrift uncle, no one could be more clearly
aware That if Maude Denison married
it must be somebody with means and po-
siton. he thoroughly understood That
he should at present marry anybody, he
quite recognized as an impossbility. And
vet with all these theoretical axioms
distinctly present to his mind he was
| forced to admit to himself that he was
over head and ears in love with his cousin.
That he had never even limited it to her
was fact upon which he gave himself
most extraordinary credit. That she had
as yet given him no earthly reason to sup
pose he was anything to her but Cousin
| Gren was a circumstance that he brooded
over sulkily and despondingly. With these
correct and high-principled views, it
should have been made matter of great
graduation; but you see it was not. I
am afraid it will ever be so. The right
r. fon IN, low yr,1th oa1,
other; while from the days Helen left
Menelaus to the present time, the con-
verse of the proposition seems inexhausti-
BILE and Interchangeable.
But all this while Granville Rose had
been reading Maude's epstle. His face
darkens as he does SO, the brows contract,
and a curse breaks at last from his lips
in low, cultural tone that bodies bad
times for somebody, supposing that Gren-
vile possesses power equal to his incli-
nation.
THAT brute Pearman - he muttered
My instinct didn't fail me. Better I'd
have dislocated his cursed neck by throw
ing him down stairs that night than this
And the poor, child appeals to me to help
her What can | do?'
Once more he glances at the letter.
again he reads the paragraph "Gren
dear. you have been my resource in all my
| scrapes since | can remember Do come
to my rescue now what am | to do!
My childish troubles of bygone days were
not of much account. whatever they might
look at the time. This seems extingush
ing the sunshine of my life on the thresh
old--as if l was doomed, as | heard you
| say not long ago. | have said | cannot,
| dare not. Both papa and mother say l
am to decide for myself. But it isn't so
you know. Gren. it isn't. There's papa,
more sneering and gloomy than ever, sug-
costing that we had better make the most
of Glinn during the remaining few weeks
that it remains to us-as | have decided
to give away the property. Mother, OF
course, ali tears; and papa DULLES her
worse than ever. Oh. tell me what TO do,
Gren, for | am very miserable. | can't
stand it much longer-I know | can't,
III shall have to give in | cannot bear to
see mother always in tears. | almost wish
was dead, | do indeed and yet l don't
want TO die
YES" he mutters. after reading it
through for about the twentieth time !;
its easy to see the whole thing. My
precious uncle intends you shall marry
Pearman. so that he may finish his days
in Glinn. My aunt, poor soul, is weeping
4 Dead Sea over the arrangement, and
having her soul harried out besides.
Maude-Maude. my darling, how can |
help you? Pretty chance of pauper like
myself being much use on the OCCASION,
he unused, with bitter sheer. She never
says, poor child. by the way, what sum.
if any would stop the gap-though. OF
course, there must be a price. However,
that is question there is no use in rails,
ing. OF course it's thousands: and to
raise few hundreds would require all my
ingenuity. to say nothing of terminating
in my eventual destruction: not but what
it's little I'd think of that just now, to
save Maude. My love. | am powerleSs
And Grenville Rose leaned his head upon
his hands and tasted the bitterest sorrow
this world can afford-that of an appeal
for succor from the woman whom he low
ed and the knowledge that he was pow
erless 10 help her even a hairs breadth
, in her bitter anguish. Better to stand
by her deathbed than this
Our nineteenth century training makes
us bear such trials we'll. But do not be-
leye. my brethren. that when the mask
, is dropped. feelings are not much the
same as of yore. Bitter tears are shed
over worthless women, and deep lamenta-
tons made over rotten investments in the
t privacy of the bed chamber. The matu-
final razor sweeps the chin at times with
strange fascination for one strong free
stroke at the jugular vein: a. morbid feel
; ing to end all this weary struggle. and
: cut the knot of existence. A well-known
{ writer the other day, laid down: 1T was
: better to be bored than to be miserable.
/ | can't say | agree with him. | would
2 rather be miserable.
4 For more than an hour does Grenyille
/ pace his apartment, musing over Maude's
: letter. But no he can neither see help to
/ be rendered, nor even anything to justify
the slightest interference on his part.
Then he thought savagely of the old duel
: ing days; how easy it would have been to
have oicked a oyarra in those good old