The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1910-05-17

itor Is midway across the room.
He is tall, just Colonel Drewe's
height, and has the unmistakable mil
itary air dear to Rosie's heart. So
much, without uplifting her eyes, the
widow can discern. But what--what
ails BelindaI The girl has grown
white as ashes; she starts, trembling,
to her feet; cry of doubt, fear, hope,
all blended, comes from her lips.
Belinda, my dear, let me intro
duce" begins Rose, rising with Ian
guild grace from the sofa. II don't
think you and the Co1onel-Colo-
nell"
The poor soul turns green under
all her pearl powder, under all her
fadeless, warranted Bloom of
Youth. She feels her limbs give
way beneath her; shrieks; a good,
natural shrek, for once, Just as she
would give at the apparition Of frog
or spider Then, the genius of folly
inspiring her, moves a step or two
forward, and sinks into the stranger
arms.
II knew it all alongl" she gasps
out. MY heart told me you were
never really, really dead!"
O'Shea-for it is indeed Cornelius
holds his wife in sort of rapture
to his waistcoat.
He bends his head down over hers.
There are feelings too sacred for
utterance," he exclaims. THE years.
the cruel years of our separation fade
away, and it seems but yesterday I
held my only darling to my heart"
"But / am changed" murmurs
Rose, the identical remark she MUIR
INJURED on that first night OF Rogers
return from India. II am an old, old
woman now!"
She lifts her face; traces of rice
powder rest on Major O'Shea's waist
coat, as they rested erewhile on Rog-
er's, and then looking into each 9th
er's eyes, and holding each others
hands, husband and wife, in broken,
uninterrupted accents, make mutual
confession.
Cornelius throws infinite pathos
into his The newspaper announce
ment of his death, he declares, was. in
the first instance, a hoax, one of those
cruel practical jokes to which the
most innocent men may fall victims.
MISUNDERSTANDING, as was his habit,
about his poor, devoted wife, away in
England-the idea crossed his brain
of working out the mistake to her
benefit. "My life, up to that time, !"
and tears are in the good old fellows
eyes as he speaks, my life, up to
that time, had brought little else but
harm to those l loved / resolved to
see If the superstition of my death
might not prove to their advantage.
My Rosie's mental sufferings!n Rose
at this point having managed to falter
out something decorous about the
suddenness of the blow and her own
anguish of bereavement "Ah, my
love, the years of tranquil domestic
happiness before US now must atone
for that The end, my Rosie-'tis
false morality-but let us hope that
in this case at least the end will
justify the means ("
So much for Major O'Shea. Rosie
gets through the difficult part she has
to play not without credit. After
looking forward to being the wife Of
a man, young, handsome, distin- |
guished, as Roger Temple-nay, after
hesitating, one short quarter of an
hour ago, as to whether Roger Tenn
pie or that elegant creature, Stanley
Drewe, should be the object of ones
choice, now suddenly to find ones self
folded in husbands legitimate en-
brace!
You seem to forget that we are
not the only people in the world, !"
she whispers to him, after time. |
You quite forget the cause that |
brought me to st. Jean de Lug
Belinda.
And now Belinda, who has with
difficulty restrained herself during
the scene of tender connubial re-
union, rushes forward and flngs her.
self upon her fathers breasct.
AS she cIlngs to him, as she feels |
his lips upon her head, the blind ador-
ing love of old childish days thrills
through her heart. She kisses his |
face, his hands, the sleeve of his |
threadbare coat. She sends up pas
sionate, mute thanksgiving to Heaven |
in her great joy.
And so Belinda has grown up a |
beauty, after all, +" says O'Shea, hold |
ing his graceful brown girl at arms |
length that he may the better admire
her. "Bnt l have seen you already |
to-day, Belinda. / watched you this |
morning-little you suspected it.
when you were starting from the
hotel. A good-looking young fellow
that, who was with her, Rose. Ell?
1t would be indiscreet, dare say, to
ask his name
"His name is Temple, Roger Tenn
pie" answers Belinda, her face burn
ing with bushes, more for Roses
sake than her own.
An old friend of mine-and Mr.. |
Shelmadeane's," adds Rose. Poor
Rose! She must be really more than
mortal could she make this renuncia-
tory speech in cheerful tone. II
had run down here with my maid to
see our dear Belinda, and-and we
met Captain Temple accidentally"
AS you have now met me, Rosie, =
says Cornelius, coming, with admira-
BILE tact, to her rescue. "Quite a
chapter of accidents, is it not? But
never mind, my love! ALPS we'll that |
ends we'll, and shall be only too de-
lighted to make Mr.. Roger Temples
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