Year: 1875

seated her, and taking her hand in his,
said:


"Mrs. Webb, love you. Ever since
l came home 1 have been attracted to
you more and more every day, and
could not refrain from tonight telling
you this. You have known me but a
short time, but have not our letters
been a means of acquaintance that
compensates for the brevity of my stay
with your In yours | recognized a
wOman's heart. loving and pure, and
when returned home and found you
here, l rejoiced, for 1 knew that you
were the woman of all the world 1
should mish to marry. Doyou not love
met | cannot wait longer for reply.'
spoke. "Mr. Whitney, have you
thought of the disparity in our ages
Why, am almost old enough for your
mother, and am failing, while you are
young and just starting in life. You
are rich and l must labor for nv living.
Have you thought what the world
would say If you were to marry your
mothers companion, old and wrinkled
Is not this mere fitting fancy; will it
not fade away before the smiles of
some of the beautiful yOnng girls you
may meet n The tears would come,
but the spectacles hid the bright eyes.
and the firm lips trembled only little
as she paused.


"No, Madeline, if you will let me have
the right to call you so, nothing will
change me. Think you | have cot had
ample opportunity to try my love
among the fair women | have met in
my travels, and l tell you now. old as
you call yourself, you are my choice.
/ care not what the world says; / am
independent enough to manage my
own affairs, and plead with you not to
let that keep us apart. Try me by
what test you will, but give me hope.
You may be old enough to be my
mOther-fOr that does not afflict me
but you are young and beautiful to me,
and / claim you for my own by my
great love for vou."


His pleading prevailed and they were
betrothed, but she asked for silence,
and SO their engagement was known to
none. She continued to ill her accus-
toned place in the invalid's chamber,
and listened to the mothers praise of
her boy with deeper interest than ever
before. After two or three months she
asked Mrs. Whitney to allow her few
weeks to go away to arrange some
affairs and to recuperate, as she was
quite exhausted, and after few days
she was ready to depart, and
promising to write regularly to Edgar,
who clung to her and regretted her
absence, she left.


The days wore on lonesome enough
in the Whitney mansion, after the
widows" departure; and so Edgar
commenced responding to the numerous
invitations that poured in upon him
from the best families in the city. At
one of these parties he met beautiful
girl, fair and accomplished, with
exquisitely moulded features and form.
She sang diyinely, and her motions
were the embodiment of grace; she was
more bewitching to him than to any of
the other gentlemen who crowded
about her, reserving for him her
brightest smiles and most winning
ways. She strove to gain his praise,
and would turn from the gay crowd
about her to him, to walk with him, or
sing or talk to him. She constantly
reminded him of some one, and when
she was reading or cOnversing, he would
watch her with puzzled air, that seeing
she would remark, but he evaded her
questions. When accidentally her
fingers met his. as he turned her
sheets of music, he thrilled with the
delicate touch, and bent low to speak
to her, until he inhaled the sweet
breath of the white verbenas in the
golden curis. But in a moment, as she
raised her eyes to his, the sudden
passion was passed, and he remembered
the woman whom he had won; the
pure noble heart which he had so
priced, and he scOrned himself for even
the brief forgetfulness. 1t was strange
that, that morning there should have
come a letter from her telling him if
he ever repented the engagement she
would absolve him from vow that
must never fetter; that if he ever found
another that was nearer his own age
that he was free to WOO her, only to be
honorable enough to first tell her of the
change"


He pondered the matter well. If he
had never met Madeline Webb, if he
were absolutely free, would he marry
this girl did he regret Encouragement; ;
was the burden more than he could
bear; had the thought of marriage
grown intolerable to him? These were
questions that he considered well, and
his heart seemed to be divided. When
memory recalled the gentle face and
sweet voice of the little form clothed
in black, the smooth hair, with the
gray lying like threads of silver across
Its bands, the many happy moments in
the sick room, his whole soul would
thrill with love for the absent one.
But when the syren voice of the fairy
like woman at mis- side called his name
and the long curls swept his sleeve,
and the white. fingers tOyed with his
flowers, the past, with its promises and
affections, were swept apart by the flood
of the present moments.


One day, as the rain dashed against
the windows, as they stood side by side,
she said to him, Il am SO lonely to-day.
1t seems to me sometimes that | would
not care to live If the future be as
gloomy as the past. The present is all
there is of my life that has aught of joy
in it, and for that have to thank you.
Do you know l am going away next
week and l suppose then l shall never
see you again. o! how dreary and sad
the world looks Tonight and she
shivered. and with eyes clOuded with
tears looked up into his face.


He took her hand, cold and clammy,
i'm his, and would have drawn her to
him, while words. burning with love
and passion trembled on his lips, but
though the blood fled from cheek and
brow, with an effort he crushed them
back, and stood silent before her.


"Do not say you do not care to live,
my friend. There is much of beauty
and love in this world, and there's
many true heart"


1t was impossible to say more, and
raising the slender fingers to his lips,
he pressed kiss upon them, and then
abruptly left her.


The next morning there came note
bidding her goodbye, saying it would
be out of his power to call upon her
ere she left the city. The same mail
bore to Mrs. Webb letter, pleading
with her to return, and telling her all
that had occurred in the past few
weeks, but assuring her that his love
had withstOOd the test, and that he
could be separated from her no longer.
The answer came speedily, Meet me
at DIR. Scott's," who had been married,
and at whose home Edgar Whitney had