Bismarck daily tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1881-1916, 1912-07-03

WOuIO NOT despair, DuL j wal nc
solved that II she thought me poor sh'
should continue to think me such unit
she had become my afianced bride.
fully believed her capable of marrying
the squire for the sake Of lifting the
mortgage and freeing Bud from the
drudgery that was telling on his health
and, what was worse, breaking his
spirit. For herself she did not think
It was for the others. It had always
been for the others. ! had reason to
think that in the matter Of worldly
goods al the equal Of the squire,
but had ! told her Of this I verify be-
iieve that It would have initiated
against me. for she would not sell her
self to the man she loved, while she
might sacrifice herself to one whom
she regarded almost 40 an aeed rela'
i've. I resolved to stand my ground
and fight every inch of 1t with Squire
Hawkins, and I was equally determin-
ed to tell my love ut the earliest mo-
ment, so that there could I've no mis-
take ms 10 my intentions.
The opportunity came sooner than I
thought, for, the next day being damp
and chilly. we remained indoors. Bud
alone being forced to face the rain.
Mrs. Turpln had gone into the kitchen
to get warm. she said. for the sitting
room was damp and bad for rheuma-
tism. l vas only waiting for the colo
mel to 50 for his afternoon nap to
speak what was in my mind to Miss
Ellen. Presently she looked up from a
book she was reading and said:
Father, there was another Of those
letters copied in the Augusta papers
yesterday"
As I heard her words my heart seem
ed to cas- pulsaton. ! had never
known that they had seen these let
ters, for they had not spoken Of them
before, probably because they did not
want me to see them. My face grew
scarlet, and l was thankful that the
room was gloomy and dark.
Eyes, Ellen" he said, 'even some Of
our own people laugh at us when they
get rich, SO we can't expect our enc
niles to do less. Have you got the pa
per, my dear? l had to laugh over that
last description of what we had come
to. 1t was very, very funny"
Funny! oh, father, to think that
you a see anything funny in such
misery as he depleted! The writer
does not see with the eyes Of a gentle
man OF else he is blinded by prejudice
or prosperity. How l should loathe to
be such a man! I did not want you to
zee this last letter, father, so 1 burnt
the paper. 1t was too true, too true!'
she cried, and I saw her eyes fill with
tears.
She laid her book aside and went to
the window to mend a rent in the lace
curtain, but l thought more to hide
her feelings from us. 1.-The writer
does not see with the eyes Of a gen.
tleman." With that one sentence she
had shattered to pieces every argu-
ment l had used to myself that day
In the room. She had not made use
Of any choice rhetoric, such as l had
used to describe her, nor did she study
the effect Of her phrasing, but with
one natural sentence. spoken from the
heart, she seemed to paint me as l
was or as she would always think Of
me after this. l realized how far my
ambition had carried me and how low
my literary instincts, as l had thought
them then, had sunk me. In the re-
action I saw myself rs others would
zee me, and in my remorse ! believed
that l had sacrificed her for some tenn
porary advantage In my profession.
And / had fancied that she would un-
derstand. forgetting that her scale Of
honor and truth was as far above mine
% heaven is above earth. In the 81
lence that followed l suffered a life
time of ordinary humiliation. To be
unknown and yet denounced was Ike
being alone with truth. My identity
should be hid no longer, and I resolved
to tell her that 1t was l she had de-
nounced. As low as l seemed at that
moment, l was not 10 low as to take
her hand until / had confessed all.
The past month rose before me, and
I asked myself If l was indeed a gen
tleman measured from their stand
point. At any rate, I could not remain
one and be silent.
The colonel crossed the room and
passed out into the hall. ! got up and
stood leaning on the back Of the chair
IN which l had been sitting.
Miss Ellen" l said, II have some
thing important to say to you. 1t Is
not what you think" for a panied ex-
preston came into her face. 1T is a
confession l have to make"
Eyes, Mr.. Palmer" she said and
turned from the window to face me.
The sun had come from behind a bank
Of clouds and crimsoned the checkered
panes Of glass, and her hair, catching
the rays that filtered through them,
framed her in a halo and to me gave
her the appearance of 4 saint. Her face
was pale, and her long e~yelashes were
fr1nged with tears.
Miss Ellen" ] said softly, ut was
who wrote those ~lettere.'