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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 13, 1912)
THE SEMI-MONTHLY MAGAZINE SECTION FOUR, LETTERS Cy LILLIAN BENNET-THOMPSON ft y h 7"Ae One JAaf e Wrote Los Axgklks, Cal., Sept. 27, 1001. nprav Dear miss Graham: I had hoped to be able to find time to see you before my depar ture for the west; but the sudden death of Miss Weldon's mother necessitated my leaving while you were out of town. It is improbable that we shall meet again very soon; but 1 want to assure you of my sincere and lasting regard, and to wish you all happiness in the future. I can never thank you adequately for your kindness to me during my stay in New York, nor for the great gift of your friendship. It shall be my earnest endeavor to be worthy of it always. Faithfully yours, John Dextont Edwards. The One That He Sent Los Angeles, Cal.. Sept. 27, 1901. T UCIA: J You will let me call you that for the last time, will you not? And you will condone the weakness or shall I say the cowardice ? that prompts me to. write you this letter. For it is noth ing less than cowardice. J meant to seud you a formal note of farewell; but at the last moment, my courage deserted me. Perhaps, it would have been kinder to keep the truth from you, to let you think me a cad. who, for the sake of his own selfish vanity, would win a woman's love and then fling it away; but I can not bring myself to do that, Lucia. The thought that you would despise me is horrible to me. 1 want you to know the real truth, the whole truth, and, know ing, to think of me as kindly as you can. The day after you left New York, 1 got a telegram from Kthcl, telling me that her mother had died very suddenly and asking that 1 come to Los Angeles at once. Of course, 1 went. You woidd have been the first to tell me to go. On my arrival, I found Ethel frantic t, with grief. I was shocked and startled by her appearance. She was pale, piti fully thin and worn, the mere shadow of her former self. It needed no very great discernment to see that she was on the verge of a mental and physical collapse. Iler mother was the only rela tive she had in the world; she was left absolutely alone, except for a few friends and Ethel has never had the gift of making enduring friendships. Her joy at seeing me was pathetic; she clung to me like a little child, im ploring me to forgive her for her short comings, begging me not to leave her. And, Lucia, 1 can not. I have thought it all out, tried to look at it from every point of view; and that is my decision. With the width of a continent be tween us, it had seenied a simple thing for me to write and tell her that the engagement, was a mistake, that we were unsuited to each other and could never be happy if we married. At least a dozen times, we quarrelled and were reconciled. AVhen T went to New York, T believed that the engagement was permanently broken, and that she was satisfied to have it so. And then, her letter came, as one had always come, blaming her liasty temper for the mis understanding, and assuming that everything would be as it had been be i tween us. How could she know that you had come into my life, filling it to the ex clusion of all others? I should have told her then. It would have been the fairest, the best thing for all of us. But instead. 1 wrote her that 1 felt we should be better apart, since, whenever we were together, we dis agreed. She did not know that I loved you; she does not know it now; and, please God, she never will know il. She believes that the fault has been hers all along and she believes that 1 love her. Lucia, I can not tell her the truth. She is frail, ill; she has suffered ter ribly these last two months, and I think the knowledge that I love another woman would kill her. Were you and I to take our happiness, it would be over her grave; and even if it were pos sible for me, I know it would not be for you. And so it is finished. My wedding day is tomorrow. I am going to make her my wife, and to try to make her happy; and from the mo ment that 1 place the ring on her finger, I am going to devote my life to her. But today is mine ours ; and it is no disloyalty to her, or to any one, to tell you that I love you. I loved you the first moment that I saw you, standing there in the doorway with the moonlight falling softly all about you. Your eyes met mine do you remember? and I felt that you were made for me and I for you. It all seemed plain sailing then ; there was nothing to keep us apart. And the night when I held you in my arms, I knew that earth and heaven could hold no greater joy for me than you. And I have lost you. I can't quite realize it yet. You will be happy, I know. You love me; but you Avill love again, some one who is worthy of that priceless gift. T am not worthy; I never was. But 1 would have tried to make you happy, Lucia, and I think I should not have failed utterly. You will forget me. You are too big, too strong to allow this to influence your life for ill. Perhaps, sometimes, you will write to me and say that all goes well with you. It is useless for me to tell you what it has cost me to give you up. You know. But I have done the only thing that I could do; 1 have decided as you would have had me decide. There was no other way. We shall meet again some time; and then, I want, to be able to look into those clear, grave eyes of yours and read there the knowledge that though I have lost your love, I have not for feited your friendship. It is just that hope that has helped me to do my duty, made it possible for me to play the part Fate has given me. Dear, it 's good-bye now. I never thought to say it to you. If only I could have told you all this, face to face, and received the assurance that you understood! I have put it so badly, so baldly; but, Lucia, I can not seem to think of anything tonight ex cept that you can never, any more, be to me what you have been. I 'm bound; tied hand and foot. For a boyish love-affair, I must pay by making the greatest sacrifice .giving you up. The worst of it all is that I know you will suffer. I could bear my own pain cheerfully; but I have in (Continued on Page 13) v. ft at; nousan dMil ion Dishes Will Be Se rveo This winter, in a dozen countries, folks will serve a thousand million dishes of these Quaker Oats. Some of these people send 1 0.(KK) miles to get this particular brand. In England next door to the Scotch oats Quaker Oats outsells all other brands. So it is the world over, where live the lovers of oatmeal. Why this amazing fact? Because for 25 years we have purchased for Quaker just the choicest of the crops. And from those choice oats we have always picked out just the most luscious grains. We pass them through 62 sittings and two-thirds of the hulk is discarded. From a bushel of choice oats we get only 10 pounds good enough for Quaker. We prepare these plump, richly-flavored grains by a very care ful process. Year by year folks have found this out. From home to home, and from country to country, has spread the fame of Quaker Oats. And Quaker Oats has become, through the verdict of millions, the leading oat food of the world. Quaker Oats The Oats With the Wondrous Flavor Lesser oatmeal may be just as nutritious, but it never is half so delightful. Puny grains lack flavor. And, if you wish the children to enjoy oatmeal, flavor is of prime importance. For Breakfast and Supper Quaker Oats isn't expensive. Despite our selection, the cost is only one-half cent per dish ! Lesser grades with half the flavor cost one just as much. It is worth your while to take the pains to get the Quaker brand. Regular size package, lOc Family size pack age, for smaller cities and country trade, 25c. The prices noted do not apply in the extreme West or South. The Quaker Qafs mpany CHICAGO Look for Iht Quaker tradm-mark on tvtry package (M) The more you read these Advertisements the better we ran make this Section.