For Woman's Love Part- 2 by Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth (i love reading books txt) 📕

For The Distant Frontier Fort Which May Be His Post Of Duty For Many

Years To Come. We May Not Be Able To Return Within Your Lifetime,

Grandfather," Said Cora,  Gravely And Tenderly.

"And What In Satan's Name,  Unless You Are Stark Mad,  Should Take You Out

To The Indian Frontier?" He Demanded.

"I Might Answer,  To Be With My Only Brother,  I Being His Only Sister."

"Bosh! Men's Wives Very Seldom Accompany Them To These Savage Posts,

Much Less Their Sisters! What Does A Young Officer Want His Sister

Tagging After Him For?"

"It Is Not That Sylvan Especially Wants Me,  Nor For His Sake Alone That

I Go."

"Well,  Then,  What In The Name Of Lunacy Do You Go For?"

"That I May Devote My Time And Fortune To A Good Cause--To The Education

Of Indian Girls And Boys. I Mean To Build--"

"That,  Or Something Like That,  Was What Rothsay Tried To Do When You

Drove Him Away,  As If He Had Been A Leper,  To The Desert. Well,  Go On!

What Next? Let Us Hear The Whole Of The Mad Scheme!"

"I Mean To Build A Capacious School House,  In Which I Will Receive,

Board,  Lodge,  And Teach As Many Indian Children As May Be Intrusted To

Me,  Until The House Shall Be Full."

"Moonstruck Mania! That Is What Your Mad Husband Driven Mad By

You--Attempted On A Smaller Scale,  And Failed."

"That Is Why I Wish To Do This. I Wish To Follow In His Footsteps It Is

The Best Thing I Can Do To Honor His Memory."

"But He Was Murdered For His Pains."

Cora Shuddered And Covered Her Face With Her Hands For A Space; Then She

Answered,  Slowly:

"There May Be Many Failures; But There Will Never Be Any Success Unless

The Failures Are Made Stepping Stones To Final Victory."

"Fudge! See Here,  Mistress! No Doubt You Suffer A Good Many Stings Of

Conscience For Having Driven The Best Man That Ever Lived--Except,  Hem!

Well--To His Death! But You Need Not On That Account Expatriate Yourself

From Civilization,  To Go Out To Try To Teach Those Red Devils Who

Murdered Your Husband And Burned His Hut,  And Who Will Probably Murder

You And Burn Your School House! You Have Been A False Woman And A

Miserable Sinner,  Cora Rothsay! And You Have Deserved To Suffer And You

Have Suffered,  There Is No Doubt About That! But You Have Repented,  And

May Be Pardoned. You Need Not Immolate Yourself At Your Age. You Are A

Mere Girl. You Will Get Over Your Morbid Grief. You May Marry Again."

Cora Slowly,  Sadly,  Silently Shook Her Head.

"Oh,  Yes; You Will."

"No,  No; No,  Dear Grandpa. I Will Bear My Dear,  Lost Husband's Name To

The End Of My Life,  And It Shall Be Inscribed On My Tomb. Ah! Would To

Heaven That At The Last,  I Might Lay My Ashes Beside His," She Moaned.

"Now Don't Be A Confounded Fool,  Cora Rothsay! To Be Sure,  All Women Are

Fools! But,  Then,  A Girl With A Drop Of My Blood In Her Veins Should Not

Be Such A Consummate Idiot As You Are Showing Yourself To Be. You Shall

Not Go Out With Sylvan To That Savage Frontier. It Is No Place For A

Woman,  Particularly For An Unmarried Woman. You Would Come To A Bad End.

I Shall Speak To Sylvan. I Shall Forbid Him To Take You There," Said The

Old Autocrat.

Cora Smiled,  But Answered Nothing. She Had Firmly Made Up Her Mind To Go

With Her Brother,  Whether Her Grandfather Should Approve The Action Or

Not; But She Thought It Unnecessary To Dispute The Matter With Him Just

Now.

"So,  Mistress,  You Will Stay Here,  Under My Guardianship,  Until You

Accept A Husband,  Like A Respectable Woman," Continued Old Aaron

Rockharrt.

Still Cora Remained Silent,  Standing By His Chair,  With Her Hand Resting

On The Table,  And Her Eyes Cast Down.

The Egotist Seemed Not To Object To Having All The Talk To Himself.

"Come!" He Exclaimed,  With Sudden Animation,  Sitting Bolt Upright In His

Chair,  "When I Found You In This Room Just Now,  You Said You Had

Something To Tell Me. And You Told It. Naturally,  It Was Not Worth

Hearing. Now,  Then,  I Have Something To Tell You,  Which Is So Well Worth

Hearing That When You Have Heard It Your Missionary Madness May Be

Cured,  And Your Quixotic Expedition Given Up: In Fact,  All Your Plans In

Life Changed--A Splendid Prospect Opened Before You."

Cora Looked Up,  Her Languor All Gone,  Her Interest Aroused. Something

Was Rising In Her Mind; Not A Sun Of Hope Ah! No--But Nebula,  Obscure,

Unformed,  Indistinct,  Yet With Possible Suns Of Hope,  Worlds Of

Happiness,  Within It. What Did Her Grandfather Mean? Had He Heard

Something About--Was Rule Yet--

Swift As Lightning Flashed These Thoughts Through Her Mind While Her

Grandfather Drew His Breath Between His Utterances.

"Listen! This Is What I Had To Tell You: I Had A Letter A Few Days Ago

From An Old Suitor Of Yours," He Said,  Looking Keenly At His

"But Weeks Passed,  On And No Letter Filled With Blessings And Bank

Notes Came From The Offended And Obdurate Father,  Though The Boy

Constantly Assured His Girl-Wife That The Expected Epistle Would Surely

Come In Time,  For He Was The 'Old Man's' Only Son,  Whom He Would Not Be

Likely To Discard.

"Meanwhile Their Money Was Running Low. The Youth Was Anxious To Travel

And See The New World,  And To Take His Bride With Him,  But He Could Not

Do So Without Funds. At The End Of Six Weeks After He Had Written The

First Letter To His Father He Wrote A Second,  But Received No Answer;

Later Still He Wrote A Third,  With No Better Success.

"They Had Gone A Little Into Debt,  In Order To Eke Out Their Little

Ready Money Until The Longed-For Letters Of Credit Should Come From

England; But At The End Of Six Months Credit And Cash Were Nearly

Exhausted.

"One Morning In May The Boy-Husband Took Leave Of The Girl-Wife,  Saying,

As He Kissed Her Good-By,  That He Was Going Down Into The City To See If

He Could Get Some Work To Do.

"Without The Least Misgiving,  She Received His Farewell Kiss,  And Saw

Him Depart--Watched Him All The Way Down The Street,  Until He Got To

Second Avenue And Boarded A Down-Town Car.

"Then She Re-Entered The Little Gate,  And Began To Tend The Jonquils And

Hyacinths That Were Just Coming Into Bloom In Her Little Flower Garden.

She Did Not Expect To See Him Until Night,  Nor--Did She See Him Even

Then. When The Little Gate Opened At Eight O'clock And A Man Came Up The

Walk Leading To The Front Door At Which She Stood,  He Was Not Her

Husband,  But The Letter Carrier,  Who Put A Letter In Her Hand And Went

Away.

"She Ran Into The House,  And Lighted The Gas To Read Her Letter. Though

It Gave Her A Shock,  It Did Not Shake Her Faith In Her Boy.

"The Letter Told Her,  In Effect,  That Alfred Whyte,  When He Left Her

That Morning,  Had Started To Go To England In The Only Way By Which He

Could Get There--That Is,  By Working His Passage As A Deck Hand On Board

An Outward Bound Ship; That He Had Decided On This Course So As To Get A

Personal Interview With His Father,  To Whom He Would Go As A Penitent

Prodigal Son; For He Was Sure Of Obtaining By This Means Forgiveness,

And Assistance That Would Enable Him To Return And Bring His Little Wife

Back To England,  Where They Would Thenceforth Live In Comfort And

Luxury; That The Reason He Had Not Confided To Her His Intention Of

Making The Voyage Was Because He Dreaded Opposition From Her That Might

Have Led Him To Abandon The One Plan By Which He Hoped To Better Their

Condition.

"He Concluded By Entreating Her Not To Think For One Instant That He

Intended To Desert Her,  Who Was Dearer To Him Than His Own Life,  But To

Trust In Him As He Trusted In Her. In A Postscript He Told Her Where To

Find The Small Balance Of Money They Had Left,  As He Had Only Taken

Enough For His Car Fare To The City. In A Second Postscript He Promised

To Write By Every Opportunity. In A Third And Last Postscript He Begged

Her To Keep Up Her Heart.

"It Seemed A Frank Letter,  Yet It Was Reticent Upon One Point--The Name

Of The Ship On Which He Had Sailed. This Omission Might Have Been

Accidental. It Certainly Did Not Raise Any Doubt Of The Boy's Good Faith

In The Mind Of The Girl.

"She Cried A Great Deal Over The Separation From Her Lad,  And She Made A

Confidant Of The Elderly Irishwoman Who Was Her Sole Servant.

"After Two Weeks,  Ann Began To Watch Daily For The Letter Carrier,  In

Hope Of Getting A Letter From Alfred; But Day After Day,  Week After

Week,  Passed And None Came. But There Came News Of The Wreck Of The

Porpoise,  Which Had Sailed From New York For London On The Very Day That

Alfred Whyte Had Left The Country--And Which Had Gone Down In A Storm In

Mid-Ocean With All On Board.

"But As Numerous Ships Had Left New York On That Day Bound For Various

British Ports,  It Was Impossible To Discover Whether The Boy Was On

Board,  Or If He Shipped Under His Own Name Or An Assumed One.

"Ann Cried More Than Ever For A Few Days,  But Then Seemed To Give Up Her

Lad For Lost,  And To Resign Herself To The 'Inevitable.'

"She Wrote To Mr. Alfred Whyte,  Senior,  But Got No Reply To Her Letter;

Again And Again She Wrote With No Better Success. The Little Balance Of

Money Left By Her Boy-Husband Was All Gone. She Began To Sell Off The

Trifles Of Jewelry That He Had Given Her.

"One Morning The Letter Carrier Left A Letter With A London Postmark

Containing A Bill Of Exchange For A Hundred Pounds,  And Not One Word

Besides.

"Had It Come From Her Boy-Husband,  Or From His Father? She Could Not

Tell.

"Well,  To Be Brief,  She Never Saw Nor Heard Of Him Again. She Lived

Comfortably With Her Motherly Old Servant,  Enjoyed Life Thoroughly And

Grew More Beautiful Every