Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
A Tale of Riverside
MRS. MARY J. HOLMES
Author of "Tempest And Sunshine," "Lena Rivers,"
"Meadowbrook," Etc., Etc.
The Owner of Riverside
Rosamond Leyton
Ben's Visit
Rosamond's Education
Brother and Sister
Marie Porter
Making Love
News
The Guest at Riverside
The Story
The End
——-
All the day long the September rain had fallen, and when the nightclosed in it showed no sign of weariness, but with the same monotonouspatter dropped upon the roof, or beat against the windows of thepleasantly lighted room where a young man sat gazing at the glowinggrate, and listening apparently to the noise of the storm without. Butneither the winds, nor yet the rain, had a part of that young man'sthoughts, for they were with the past, and the chain which linked themto that past was the open letter which lay on the table beside him.For that letter he had waited long and anxiously, wondering what itwould contain, and if his overtures for reconciliation with one whohad erred far more than himself, would be accepted. It had come atlast, and with a gathering coldness at his heart he had read thedecision,—"she would not be reconciled," and she bade him "go his wayalone and leave her to herself."
"It is well," he said; "I shall never trouble her again,"—and with afeeling of relief, as if a heavy load, a dread of coming evil, hadbeen taken from his mind, he threw the letter upon the table, andleaning back in his cushioned chair, tried to fancy that the last fewyears of his life were blotted out.
"Could it be so, Ralph Browning would be a different man." he saidaloud; then, as he glanced round the richly furnished room, hecontinued—"People call me happy, and so perhaps I might be, but forthis haunting memory. Why was it suffered to be, and must I make alife-long atonement for that early sin?"
In his excitement he arose, and crushing the letter for a moment inhis hand, hurled it into the fire; then, going to his private drawer,he took out and opened a neatly folded package, containing a longtress of jet black hair. Shudderingly he wound it around his fingers,laid it over the back of his hand, held it up to the light, and thenwith a hard, dark look upon his face, threw it, too upon the grate,saying aloud, "Thus perisheth every memento of the