MARRIED ON DEATH-BED

Evening Star, Issue 19658, 10 September 1927, Page 21

MARRIED ON DEATH-BED

TRAGIC ROMANCE OF 0. HENRY’S DAUGHTER 0. Henry should have Written this story. It ‘is about his only daughter Margaret and her recent wedding on her death-bed in California. The famous noveiifit ? s iiicopipctrablG tales invariably concluded with some strange quirk occasioned by fate or circumstance, and the death Of ins “little girl,” as ho used to call her, carried with it the kind of romance ho Wove , around his characters. ■ “ Peggy ” Porter was ilk Doctors looked with grave concern at tho brown-eyed, auburn-haired girl whose mother had died from tuberculosis. THE TERRIBLE TRUTH. But tho daughter of William Sydney Porter (0, Henry was his pen-name) carried on until One day about tOur years ago when a physician told her as gently as ho could the terrible truth. “You must go to the desert, he told her. “Go Where the winds are dry, where there’s sunshine and quietude.” ... So, heartsore, she got her belongings together and stumbled towards a New York railway station. . At California she met a ypufig. writer named Guy Sartin, an Englishman. A strange fascination this homeless, sorrowful girl had for him. He said to her one day; “Peggy, I’ll get a house for you somewhere in the desert, and I’ll look after you. I can write there as well as here.” One evening he told his friend about the town of Banning, nestling at an altitude of 2,315 it in the San Gorgonie Pass. It looked to be ideal. HER “ WEDDING GOWN.” Miss Porter piled her luggage into an automobile and drove the ninety miles to Banning. There, well up on a hillside, she bought a small plot ot ground, and Sartin superintended the construction of a pretty bungalow. There for two and a-half years Peggy Porter was bedridden. Her companionship with, Sartin resulted in a deep devotion, but her battle for health was being lost. One night she made her will, and asked that a pretty new bed jacket be made for her to used as a “wedding gown.” “I guess it’s about over, Guy,” she said to Sartin, “And now we will be married.” She arranged her auburn hair, gave touches to her face, and donned the new jacket made or black lace over pink chiffon. A jeweller was called to bring a tray of wedding rings. Sartin gathered roses from their gardens, and the air in their living room was made heavy with their subtle perfume. THE HARPY END. The afternoon sun was waning. A parson began reading the service which was to bind the two together “until death do us part.” “Peggy” Porter’s eyes shone brightly and a Hood of color was in her cheeks. For once at least the daughter of the great story writer was happy. For three days she was supremely so. Then the curtain began descending, darkness came to her tired brain, she opened her eyes once, smiled sweetly, and in a few moments her spirit fled. Her will left everything she owned to her husband-rher share ,of the royalties from 0. Henry’s books, things in the hillside home, and her wedding gown, which she .wore only on her death bed.