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Show THE WILES OF A WIDOW. . By NORMAN WRIGHT. (Copyright, 1902, by Dally Story Pub. Co.) I 'went heme intoxicated with her beauty and charms. Ah me, that was before Uncle Tom died, and instead of leaving his millions mil-lions to me as everybody expected and had been led to expect, endowed a college col-lege with them. And I went to work in an insurance office, and somehow circumstances seemed to make it harder hard-er to see the widow, especially alone, and we gradually drifted apart and only last week she married Nathaniel Sykes, U0 years old and worth three-millions. three-millions. - Immediately I became the devoled 1 slave of the widow. She was a few j years older than I, but the manner in I which she looked up to me and deferred de-ferred to my opinions convinced me that I was really her elder in knowledge knowl-edge of the world and that she was but a clinging vine wholly dependent upon my strength and wisdom. Within a week I was wholly enslaved. en-slaved. I could think of nothing, talk 8 TO Of course, it was my fault probably. proba-bly. I was young; we were both , young; had we been older, or at least less callow, it would not have happened. hap-pened. But what's the use of talking about "its" and "buts"? It was as it was and there's no help for it. I might as well state plainly at this 'juncture that Margery and I were in love, or at least we thought we' were. We had been sweethearts ever since she was in pinafores and I in short pants. But at the lime it happened I had blossomed into creased trousers and a downy mustache and carried a cane had become, in short,- quite a young man of fashion and wholly disinclined dis-inclined to be treated as a kid. Now, Margery was a most aggravating miss and mischievous, and she declined wholly to accept me in the role of- a young gentleman of fashion, prefer-ing prefer-ing to maintain the old relationship as boy and girl. This was, as you can readily conceive, a constant source of annoyance and humiliation to me, and I was in no playful mood when Margery's Mar-gery's cousin, big and bronzed and 30, and the possessor of a long and flowing flow-ing black mustache, came out to visit Margery's family. Then came a series se-ries of odious comparisons done always al-ways in Margery's laughing way and probably not intended to hurt. But they did hurt and mortally. What young cub of 20 with the first growth of down on his upper lip can see the humor in comparisons with the flowing flow-ing mustache of a full grown man? And when on top of this the sweetheart sweet-heart of your fondest dreams deliberately deliber-ately refuses to accept your invitations and appears places with a big, handsome hand-some cousin with a piratical mustache, a man certainly is justifltd in taking radical measures. It was just when I was feeling my worst that I met the widow. It was at a party, to which, by the way, Margery had refused to accompany me, prefer-lng prefer-lng to see the look of impotent rage which adorned my face. As I stood biting my nails and wishing most heartily that I was somewhere else, when glancing across the room I was dazzled by a vision of lovliness which fairly drove the blood back upon my heart. It seemed that I had never seen eyes so black and saucy, a complexion com-plexion so richly olive, lips so red and full and inviting, a chin so dainty and a form so altogether alluring. Well, I was formally introduced and most graciously gra-ciously received. With the art of a clever woman and a widow she made me feel that I was a most important personage in her eyes and that she "Oh, don't, Fred, you musn't!" of nothing but the widow. By that time I was calling her Nellie at her own suggestion delicately conveyed. I was ruinously extravagant in flowers and theatres, and matters were progressing pro-gressing rapidly. My affair with Margery Mar-gery was forgotten, or, if remembered, it seemed wholly childish beside the fiery passion of my new love-making. And the love-making was all so easy. There was none of the embarrassment so constantly arising in my relations with Margery. The widow's plump little hand seemed so invitingly near to mine at moments when it was propitious pro-pitious to give it a warm squeeze, and there were always so many perfect opportunities op-portunities for quite tete-a-tetes. And those tete-a-tetes there never were such delightful ones since the beginning begin-ning of time. .The modest blushes and sighs of the widow nearly drove me distracted with delight. I have suspected sus-pected since that the widow was not so modest and ingenuous as she seemed and yet it seems sacrilege even to suggest sug-gest it. I remember the first time I kissed her. It was several weeks after I met her. She had been particularly inviting invit-ing and gracious and I had caught glimpses of the daintiest of ankles peeping from the daintiest of lingerie, which I confess set me afire. She was attired that night, too, in a gown that suggested every line of her faultless figure and kept my mind filled with visions of gathering her in my arms. As I arose to go I came pretty near doing it even started toward her but my timidity got the best of me and I drew back. Just then, in some unaccountable un-accountable manner she tripped and lurched toward me. Well, what could I do but throw out my arms to save her and in an instant ' I had that luscious morsel in my arms and when she was securely there it all seemed so natural that I squeezed her tight and planted an ardent kiss fuil on her ripe lips. Her cheeks were aflame and she drew several 6harp breaths as she shrank from me, saying: "Oh, don't, Fred, you mustn't. I really am afraid of you when you look like that." But I only held her the tighter and rained kisses upon her. Then she sent me from her, telling me that she dared not trust herself with me longer. And Nellie. ed me. I suppose that evening was the happiest I ever knew unless I except ex-cept the evenings following. Her flattery flat-tery was incense to my spirit, wounded wound-ed as It was by Margery's conduct |