CARL LATROBE'S RETURN.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 4300, 9 May 1885, Page 5 (Supplement)

CARL LATROBE'S RETURN.

BY MIS 3S. A. BVIIS. ' And you will wait for me, Hester, and will always be true ? I shall come back from California rolling in gol<', and marry pretty Hosier Grey.' They stood together in the old apple orchard—Carl Latrobo and his pretty sweetheart, Hester Grey. Tlio bland October sun was just dipping its last rays beyond tho far-off range of the Allcghenics. The sound of the river seemed unusually loud and distinct as it minged with the wild cry of tho cricket, and tho woodland trailers that clung to the roof of the old farm home shono in tho deepening twilight as if dipped in blood. Hester Grey, a tall sirl of twenty, smiled sadly. ' iTou may change, Carl,' she said sim- ' I change ! Why, Hester, you know that to be an utter imposibility. I shall soon make my fortune, and mino is a love that will live. Burning with ambitious hopes, Carl Latrobe bade his old love good-bye, and was soon off for California, where—as he said —poverty was unknown, and fortunes were made in a day Hester bade him a ' godspeed,' prayed for his safe return, butshe uttered no complaint. The days and nooks passed on in their dull monotony at the quaint little farmhouse anions the hills, and Hester settled down in the old life ngnin, with only his picture to look at, and the long, loving letters that, came regularly every week to lighten her duties and cheer her lonely life. It was a wild night in iVovcmbei , , about.a year since her departure, The trees tossed theirj naked limbs as the wind whistled through them, and the leaves lay thick and wet. in the paths. The curtains were drawn closely down at tho farmhouse, and in a dimly lighted room a woman lay dying. On Jicr bosom nestled a tiny waxen baby, and J over her there hovering her a loving girl, -otlio gently brushed back the brown hair from the damp forehead, and bent close to ditch the last words of the dying woman. I. ' Promise me, Hester, that you will look ;aflcr my child when lam gone. You have )jocn a good daughter to me, and I know \yuu will.' i 1 She paused and breathed with didi'culty. ' Yes, mother, I will take care of little I promise to do all I can to make happy and God shall judge between ( us.' J~ The dying woman smiled feebly. ' God bless you-Hester ! I will carry the news to him, that his daughter will be a mother to the babe he never saw.' So the woman died quite content. Hester Grey took from her stepmother's arms her dead father's child, over whoso grave the grass had not. yet grown, and whom this second loving wife had followed to the mystic shore as soon. Sho was true to her promise, this noble girl, and took the little half-sister from the dear old home—for it was theirs no longer —out into the world where she bravely took up the battle of lifo. With thelil tie left by her old mother, Hester settled down in a little brown cottage by tho sea. The years rolled slowly on. She saw no change in the life she had chosen except the change in little Agnes. With what jealous care did Hester watch over and guide the young and wayward feet of her darling girl. She divided her strong affection and lived only for the absent lover, and the little one intrusted to her care.

Hester was quite content, as Agnes grew into girlhood, and grew more beautiful every day. She did not know how a cloud had risen sixteen years before—a very little cloud at first, but which was fated to grow and grow until her whole life should be engulfed in its dark shadow. Mie did not know that she was living in the glory of a dream which should prove so far b.pUer than its reality.

Carl's letters still came regularly. They told of the hardships endured by him in that' far-off land, how ho was slowly but steadily gaining the wealth he sought and of the love for the woman awaiting , his return.

Seventeen years had gone, when she recoi ved the glad news of his return.

'lain a rich man, now, Hester, and will coon be with you once more. Get ready, darling. Do not keep mo waiting when 1 como to claim mv bride.

She had cried ovor that letter like a girl, and Agnes, with the sunny hair and dancing blue eyes, had thrown her white arm, about her neck and read the good news with her.

' What 0/ deay old boy he must be, Hester. lam more than half crazy to see him. Yet I know what he is likp by hjs picture in, the parlor. .

' You muet not expect a handsome man Agnes. Komemberho is forty years old, and has always worked hard.'

Hester smiled through her tears, and Ag nes danced with delight.

' Let's go and dress, Hetty, for you know the train ia in from the west at half-pastseven and we must expect him every clay till he comes. She pulled the letter play fully from her sister's hand and fluttered away, a sunbeam of radiant beauty. They came down fifteen minutes latter, Hester in a modest grey costume, and Agnes in while tarlatan and fluttering blue ribbons. ' How do 1 look, Ifettv.' She placed herself before her sister, just'as there came a rap at the door. Thinking it was the milkman, Agnes stepped quickly to the hall and opened tho door—not to the milkman, but to a tall stylish gentleman who doffed his soalskin hat to the fair vision.

' Is Miss Hester Grey within ?' 'Carl ! oh, Curl!' Hester rushed from the parlor as pale as death.

' Yes, it is Carl. Hester mv dear Hes ter. .

He folded her in his arms and kissed her, and then turned to Agnes.'

'We are vory well acquainted Miss Agnes, although we never met before.'

A rivid blush flitted over her perfect faco as she gave him 11 small white hand and a smiling welcome ushered' him into f!io parlor. Hester, like a withered ]pfif between two brilliant flowera, knew she iiacl never been so before. Tlio following weeks wero passed very p.|easant|y. Carl being (I fc ftn liolel near by saw them every day. Sunny days and bright moonlight nights had followed in unbrokenjßiiccc9Bion since his arrival, and it was now midsummer. There wore morning rides and evening walks, until—it came about so gradually, and.Hester, was the last to perceive if. True, she had noticed a slight change in Carl, but she was too happy and

confenfed to give it a. m.im * nf-'s though!. SJic 'i.tl n.-ilitwd 1 , In", a slr,!ii_>r fluctulinn in her si-lr:-'s iiiumier, sin- mi limes wry

i.'i!V, ,-isid at H !:<•!• I imi-- (jsiicr. and mo■■ !y. Ye- , !.••(• Ji'ii li.'ig ].jiiii;: heart, knew no ch;i:!:!c until l>i\)'!j:-''t fnv lo f':irc uiili the aufii! I in! h. !l was a calm moonlight cvi-iiins;, the -I < ji:i«io, nl-nosl <-p-pr(>-:-jivc.si!:'ii''i> broken only by the genii" swish swa-h of the wiives on the sho:v, that 710-1 i-r rtro'.k'd down the garden path iiivler the sha-low of I \w hves. ' She h.-id seen Ag]'.v< leave the house a few uio'iicnls before ntid was ijoing to join her o.i the boadi. •Sin , did not find her, hovevor sisslm rxpecti"l, an,! iv;is about to call, when she was suddenly startled and rooted to the ground ii.v ;i .-trong passionate voice clo.-e beside her.

o';e iiistmeltvi'ly shrank farther back ill the sh-idow, and turning her startled eyes in tho direction from whence it camo, she saw (hem standing—Carl and Agnes—with the moonlight full upon them. He held her hand and gazed eagerly down into her white faco.

' Agnes, Agnes, yon will not say that I lovo you so dearly only to be mocked and

refused ! How could I be true to my poor Hester after knowing you ?'

Alow thrilling voice answered in a tone that made even I lint forlorn womem's heart throb.

' God only kii.uvs ho.v well [ love you ! But for principle's *aki< -for Hester's sako I can never, neivr marry you. I3ut I do love you so dearly."

' Then nothing shall stand between—' She heard no more, but staggered like a drunken person back to the house and fell down upon the carpel a dull suffering piece of humanity.

It was thus they four, \hr fifteen minutes later. Agnes thivw heivdf upon her knees beside her.

'Hester, what is thy.- in.itter ; what shall I do ? You are ill!'

' Tfester staggered to her feet and sank wearily into a chair.

'I am not ill. I was down by the beach while you and Carl were—talking.' She said this slowly and with difficulty placing her hand at her side, as if to soothe her heart's dull pain.

Agnes threw herself at her feet and burst into a storm of tears.

' Hester, you will hate me ; I will never, never, marry him ! I will never stand in your way. I will go away.'

Hester placed one hand on the girl's head.

' No, you will not go away ; there is no need of it. . She turned her large, woeful eves upon Carl Latrobe.

' I promised her dying mother that I would strive to make her life happy, and made God to judge between us. God shall judge between us to-day. I perform :ny duty—l give her to you. It seems hard that He has called me to make this sacrifice, but He knows best.'

He jumped to his fe.et ond would have spoken, but she had left the room.

Preparations for the wtvlding were soon being made, and tho day'appointed for the great event. Hester si--.vi\l and fitted with her own hands her sister's wedding drees, and superintended ever)thing.

Then camo the wedding, sad and solemn ; not because of tho dark, overcast sky and drizzling rain, but because of the presence of that white-faced woman who had trcasurod her girlhood and had her latter years spurned for a younger, fairer face.

They were going away now, and almost upon their knees they besought Hester to go with them.

' You will go with us, Hosier ; you will not stay here alone.'

Agnes drew her arm about her sister's waist and lifted her blue eyes moist with tears. For a moment the hot, scalding tears rested on Hester's lashes, and with gloat tenderness Carl sought to take her hand. But at his touch her tears froze.

'Not that!' she cried, drawing quickly buck. ' 1 ho world may pity me — Agnes may pity me, but your pity I will not have.'

'Hester, , he- said, 'forget the past. Let us live only in the future and lot it atone for that past's mistake.'

But she turned upon him almost fiercely, ' How dare you, Carl Latrobe, suggest such an atonement. How dare you speak to me of the past, knowing, as you do, of the false honor which taught me to beliove that I was to come to you a loved and loving wife ? How can you ask me to go with you and hear your children call mo auntie—me, who. hoped to bo their mother ? After that they went away. A dark November afternoon, when the clouds seemed to touch thp ph.im.ney tops, and the dense fog settled itself like a grey banner ovor the wet sodden earth. ;

How dear and utterly desolate it looked to the woman who stood at the window, whose mournful eyes looked forward over the sea, yet seemed to see- nothing. There were dark circles under the eyes, tho face deadly pale, and the mouth and chin quivered, indicative of " tears that (led the eyes t° curdle round the heart."

For a long while sho }hero like a statute, then turupcj \ypnt iuto the snug little par'ar. Hoy. eyes wandered listlessly from the bright wood fire to the centretable, strewn with books, , flowers, and a tiny pair of kid gloves, which had apparently been discarded upon fitting on. Near the window were two low hassocks, where sho had seen them sitting an hour before, with Carl's proud, happy glance resting upon the delicate beauty of his youthfuj bv-icie—such beauty as this forlorn, vxcmnn had once possessed when lifo wis bright and pleasant. I3ut no\v—jiiow ! With a low cry of unutterable anguish and despair, sho throw horst'lf upon licr knees by the chair where Carl Latrobo had sat, and pressed her lips upon its unconscious cushion,

'My God ! my Gc.d 5 must I suffer like this forever ? With ihis agony at the very beginning, what will it bo as the long, long yawl's drag on, and I all alone in my misery ? They are happy !'

The shadows crept slowly around, and tho wind rose end whistled like demons intent on mischief. The fire on tho grate burned low, flickered, and went out, and chill and dampness took possession of the silent room. Cold and wet without, drear and desolate within—the closing - scenes of the tragedy of a woman's life.

They found her the next day, kneeling cold and rigid beside her chair, her stiffened fingers elnsped closely ovor it.

Gone to meet that merciful God who should judge between her and Carl Latrobe'e beautiful bride.