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Updated: May 8, 2025
There was, however, something in Miss Wilbur's manner that I could not quite fathom; that something which completes the happiness of two people who love each other was lacking. It was not until ten years later when I met Mrs. Beuland in Reno, that I understood the shadow. I knew that the young lawyer had failed to induce Miss Wilbur to consent to an early wedding, and after much persuasion Mr.
I heard of many romances that were beautiful and interesting; that pictured to my mind youthful mistakes righted, dreams realized and ideal future homes, with love reigning supreme and peace and harmony keeping the charm ever radiant. I can't tell you about all of them, therefore I shall select the one I thought most beautiful. The heroine of my selected romance is Mrs. Beuland, of Virginia.
Royce returned to England she was married to the New York artist. No one seemed surprised, though it caused much gossip. Fancy my astonishment when ten years later I met the stately Mrs. Beuland in the lobby of my hotel in Reno.
And then again there would be a note of sadness, though never of bitterness. I knew Mrs. Beuland as Nell Wilbur in Virginia, before her marriage to Mr. Beuland. Her family were among the victims of the Civil War who were left paupers after the wreckage of the South. Nell Wilbur had always been proud, willful and highly strung. Her mother had died young.
Royce returned to England alone. Later it was rumored that the engagement had been broken off; then we heard that Mr. Royce had committed suicide; again that he had married; another time that he was returning to America to press his suit. Miss Wilbur was very reticent about the subject and continued to receive the attentions of the young artist, Will Beuland, and some six months after Mr.
"Then the 'phone rang. 'Good morning, Mrs. Beuland; this is Glen Royce speaking; hope I haven't called you too early? Will you come for a walk? It is a beautiful day. I did and before the day was over, I had made a confidant of this old sweetheart of mine, and extracted a promise from him, a very foolish, silly promise.
Beuland; I wish I could picture to you this most unusual woman as I knew her in the southland, a mere girl of sixteen; as I think of her now she brings to my mind a poem of William Wordsworth: "I saw her upon nearer view, A spirit, yet a woman too: Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles."
And so it was with Mrs. Beuland, else I should not be recording her romance here. I am glad the story of Balzac did not read: "Like all great loves," because I believe that a great love always brings with it harmony and understanding.
"I heard my name called; it sounded as though it were an echo out of the past. I looked up.... a tall gentleman was standing by me looking down into my face; 'Good evening, Mrs. Beuland, this is indeed a pleasant surprise." Glen Royce....You know our story, and as I had not heard from him in years you can imagine my surprise. "Mr.
Young Royce was madly in love, and though Miss Wilbur lavished her smiles on the young artist, Will Beuland, no one thought that he had the slightest chance. Miss Wilbur's aunt invited a party of the young people to Atlantic City for the Easter holidays, and I was lucky enough to be asked, my principal pleasure being in watching the ideal young lovers.
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