Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 255, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 October 1913 — Harding’s Ambition [ARTICLE]

Harding’s Ambition

As e Robbins finished speaking John TTnrjl Imr TUI Wn»L _ kin eh&to wife to nix ruing pußnea oacs did cnwr whb “Then I toa beaten?” he said, his voice sharp and hard. the stockholders and you will have only sft. -ft -certainly--looks as though George Bristow wojfifl bq the, next president o*tfie r&ttftotfiototo'Bto*-'' oi “Air but one.” ' * ' “Why not that one?” crisply. “Couldn’t reach him.” “What is his name?” ~, “David Sanderson. Comes from your old town, too. He’s just a young fellow, I believe. He and his widowed mother live out on Falmouth street” Every Vestige of color had gone from Harding’s face and his eyes were glaring. “You’re very certain the name is Sanderson —David Sanderson?” “Sure thing. Do you know him?” Harding made a tremendous effort to control himself, but his voice shook pitifully. “I used to know the mother years ago—when she was Helen Chaloner.” “Then you must try to get her help.” Helen Chaloner! Yes, he had known her —known her and loved her before ambition had possessed his soul and frozen his heart They had been betrothed when he left the llttle town where both were horn to make a place in the world for himself and for her. Gradually hertiad let love die; had failed to answer her pitiful letters; had driven the memory of her from his brain with the thought that she would be a hindrance to him in his career. An hour later he stood in the living room of Helen Sanderson’s home. And for the first time he realized how lonely he had been through all the years without her. Ah, how happy they had been the far-off long ago! And then the parting! With startling distinctness he remembered how she had stood under the old apple trie with him, her white gown showing faintly, and her sweet, tender eyes gleaming In the moonlight. Even the perfume of the roses she had worn at her breast came back to him across the years as he recalled his eager promises, his tender good-bys. God! If he could only turn those years 'back! He heard a. light step enter the room and he turned quickly. She stood before him —not as he remembered her, for the bloom of youth had faded from her cheeks, and the girlishness had gone from her figure—but her eyes were as tender as of old and her smile had lost none of Its sweetness. “John,” she said softly, as she came toward him with outstretched hand. The faint color died In her cheeks and her breath came haltingly. “£he years have changed you!’’ He took her hand in both of his and looked- down at her with grave, tender eyes. “Helen, my stupe, sweet wildflower!” f- , , A rush of color dyed her cheek, and the look of scorn upon her face stung him to the quick. “Don't—you must not!” she breathed. “Oh, do you think that I do not know why you have come here? Your flattering words are to win my Influence with my son; that you may realize your life’s ambitions. Oh, how low you have fallen In my estimation!” The man’s eyes darkened with pain. “No, no, Helen. It is true that I came here for what you say, but my coming has brought me to my senses; has made me realize what & failure my life has been. I know now that I’ve wanted you always, Helen —suffered and longed for you every day. Bristow may have the presidency and welcome If you irill forgive me and redeem your old promise to become my wife.” There was a wonderful light in the woman’s eyes, and her voice was low and tremulous. “You are sure, very sure?” “Yes,” he answered. Then she came {o wardß w lto outstretched hands. The hours passed unheeded ~by them both. Harding was a boy again —he bad entirely forgotten the prealdency and his defeat. He waß by the side of the woman he loved and all else was forgotten. The sudden slamming of the frofit door startled them, and a moment later a young man entered the room. “Mother," he said, excitedly, “your life’s ambition la realized. Harding la the next president of the First Bank, and it was my vote that won It for him.)’ John Harding leaped to his feet with a cry. “This la President Harding. David," the woman said Boftly. When they stere again alone Harding drew bar Into the shelter of his arms and stroked her soft, brown hair with tender fingers. “God grant,” he said fervently, “that 1 shall be worthy of *o great a love as yours.”— GERTRUDE HARVEY.