Democratic Sentinel, Volume 14, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 June 1890 — A BOY LOVER. [ARTICLE]

A BOY LOVER.

Marian Montyou had always called Guy Charteris her boy lover; had allowed him to kiss her because he was so handsome and such a clever lad. That hw expected to marry her had never entered this pretty flirt’s heat;, and she was consequently surprised, when she told him of her engagement to Col. Brandette, that he should become angry. Guy left town the next day, and it was years before she heard of him again. She did not marry Col. Brandette after all, and consequently she never lived in the fine new mansion on California street in San Francisco. The Colonel took exception to a fancy she had for performing in private theatricals.

■•I cannot have my wife an actress,” he had said, with perhaps more hrusqueness than he intended. “Then yon cannot have me for a wife, ” Miss Montyou had retorted, with a mocking courtesy; and so the engagement was broken. And at last Marian went on the stage in sober earnest Not for a freak or a whim, but to earn her bread. Her guardian, a well-meaning, weak-headed man, had invested her property unfortunately, and she found herself penniless one cruel day. But she was a brilliant actress still, and bated no whit of her queenly dignity on the stage, until one day a new beauty, fresher, perhaps, and Bearing the of transcontinental applause, dawned on the scene, ahd Marian found herself supplanted. “It is, perhaps, just as well,” said Mrs. Mudge, her faithful companion. “You know, my dear, that your lungs jare not strong this winter; and those long parts tried them dreadfully. Perhaps you will be all the better for the rest”

Marian turned a ghastly face toward good Mrs. Mudge. “But how are we to liveP” said she. “You don’t mean to say that you have no means to fall back upon,” Bald Mrs. Mudge. “We have been living beyond our income for the last year,” said Miss Montyou. “Where should I get means?" “But surely you have hosts of friends?” “None that I choose to call upon,” said Marian proudly. Mrs. Mudge groaned deeply. “Then,” said she, “what are we to doP” “That’s just what I should like Sume one to tell me, ” cried Marian, with a laugh which was anything but mirthful. That night she was smitten down with brain fever. t All those dreary days and weeks’ time left no record on the tablets of her consciousness. One breezy, violetscented April morning, however, she came back, as from a long journev, and tound herself supported by pillows weaker than any baby, all her early golden tresses shorn ruthlessly away. “I have been sick,” she said. “I have been very near the gates of the grave.”

By degrees Mrs. Mudge told her all —how she owed her life to the constant attention and marvellous skill of the physician who had attended her through her illness. ‘•Who sent for him?” said Marian. “The landlady of the hotel,” exclaimed Mrs. Mudge. “She said he was very skillful and successful. And has been more than kind. He has spoken to the people here not to press for the bilL He has supplied fruit, w ine, medicines, as if he were your brother. But you are looking tired, my dear. I must not talk any more to you just now.” And no further entreaties could tempt Mrs. Mudge to any more disclosures. “I should like to thank this unknown benefactor ” said Marian to herself, as she lay thinking. * ‘Though Ido not know why anybody should trouble themselves to help me now.” The doctor came in bright and early the next morning. Tall dark, imperially handsome, he stood at her bedside and felt of her pulse, with an approving air. “So,” he said, “you are better. I knew you would be better in time.'’ Marian looked at him with a bewildered face.. Where had she seen him before? Where had she dreamed • of him? “Well?” he said with a smile. Then it all came back to her. She put out her thin hand. She looked pleadingly up into his face. “It is Guy Charterer?” she „*ki. “It Is my Utile lorw:" They were married as soon a. had regained her old bloom aud

strength, and was able to travel. She was six years older than he, but between 24 and 30 the gulf is easily bridged over. And Dr. Charteris bad never loved any other woman but her, and, as he declared fervently, never should. “I vowed avow once that you should by my wife, Marian,” he said; “but I did not dream that it was so soon to be fulfilled.”