Year: 1877

I
had never written to him, and lowered
myself to correspond thus with stran-
ger. but had to answer every letter to keep
him from coming to the school and asking
to see me. He used the tenderest
language, addressing me as il we were
betrothed, and promising to bring me ring
when he could visit me in vacation, Inever
suspected he was aught but what he repre-
sented himself to be, and was miserable only
for fear of my father, so easily was de-
ceived by his words and promises, and 1


promised TO meet him after the evening ex-
ercises the last day. Commencement day
came, and brought visitors and friends


Father was proud of me, and made meread
my essay to him, praising it with the kind
est words He told me what pleasure was
| giving my mother and himself, and how


they were repaid now for years of labor and
self-denial. ''You have never deceived me,


thank God, Ruth, and trust you as l do


your mother, and that thought is dearer


than your diplomas to me. l have had the


old place nicely fixed for your home coming,


and you shall not be sorry that you have


done so we'll" l was cut to the heart, and


making some excuse, left him and went 20


my room to have cry. But l dared not


even weep. Suppose he should want to


know why looked sad? This was enough.


| pinched my cheeks to bring some blood
| to them, and with a show of gaiety went


to the hall. Father sat in the audience


watching me with tender interest, holding


the tiny bouquet of early buds mother had


sent TO be thrown to me in lieu of her pres
| ence.


After awhile / noticed two young men


come in at the door, then look over the stage


as if hunting some one. One CT them glanced


at card, then again at the rows OF students


and at last the eyes of the party seemed to


rest on me as the one for whom


they we're searching They came up


the aisle and sat down Immediately


before father The room, the people, the


flowers blended in one whirl as | saw one OF


the men bow slightly to me, and then look at


the photograph, for such l now saw the card


was, and felt rather than knew that this


was Fred.


In passion of fear / read my essay, and
the moment 1 was through / missed my


father and the person who had bowed to


me, and how passed the long hour after


this have no idea. The moment we were


dismissed father came to me, and said,


"Ruth, want you to go with me; | have


something to say to you" He took me TO a
private parlor at the hotel, and waited until


was calm enough to talk then said, "Now,


my daughter, you must tell me the truth


are these letters yours?" and he handed me


a packet with every one of the notes, letters


and poems had sent to Fred. Ny picture


was on the top OF the lot. | dared not


deny the palpable fact, and l whispered,
"Yes, SIR" "Do you love this manT'


could not reply, for knew not what my
father might have read of all those sentences


penned in idle moments. ANSWER me


Ruth at once, yes or TO-" ''No, sir" He
clasped me so tightly in his arms that could
hardly breathe. "0h God, thank Thee for
this" and my father, the reserved, quiet
man l had known him, cried like child.
Now Ruth, have one more duty, and that
is the most painful. When this man sat
down in front of me l heard him saying
something about Ruth, and your name ar


rested my attention. He held your picture
. where could see il, and Immediately REQ


ognized it as yours. He told those other
young men about his correspondence
with you, of your engagement to him
and your proposed meeting, and then he
ridiculed you, repeating your words and
, expressions This much can tell you; Of
other remarks / can not except that he in
, tended to force you into sham marriage
and after that life of horror. You art
/ saved from disgrace, but only by Providence
: He will never trouble you again, for havt
. attended to that, but could not avoid the
c talk that will follow my fiogging him, and
E making him leave this place. But,
Ruth, why did you deceive me?' 1 went
: home not the bright happy girl my
mother expected, but a woman with 6
weight Of trouble and pain. never heard
from Fred again, but the gossip:
used my name for months in con
I nection with his. Ny poor parents suf
, fered really more than 1, If tha
: we're possible, but never upbraided me by
' word or look, but have never felt the same
/ and it is seven years since 1 answered tha
[ personal and thus allowed myself to be
1 come party to such transaction. Now
: girls will you be warned?"


1 miss Allison please tell the other girl
: this" said Carrie, 'for know some who arr
l going to write and maybe it will save them
as it has us, from the chance Of getting int
{ trouble never knew before there was an,
i. harm in such things" Carrie, would yor
1 like for your father and mother to know
! about it?'' "No, / would not" Then yol
r may be sure there is something wrong wher