Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-12-28

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drifted out of her life. SIZE had grown
to look calmly at the old sorrow and
comprehend that it were best; to feel
that she had grown stronger and p,1rer,
and that it is but moral degradation
for woman to love what is unworthy
OF her love. She thought of the words
She cannot look down to her lover; her love, like
her soul, aspires.
He must stand by her side, or above her, who
would kindle its hottest fires.
For two years she had trusted Ralph
Eveleth; she had hoped against hope
she had believed in him and suffered by
him as only loving woman can suffer,
Unasked, her heart made all the ;ex-
cuses for him. She placed him always
in the mental perspective of O good
light. She was patient and tender, and
at last when the bitter knowledge was
forced upon her that it was all in vain,
that the man she loved had no existence
save in her own idealization of him, she
had felt that life, in it's best sense, was
over for her; she was not much given to
the consolation of poetry or philosophy,
but in all those dark, despairing days a
line of Mrs. Browning's haunted her:
hsvn % thas
In work and in living in other lives
Miss Kelsey strove to forget the past
no, not to forget-but to overlay it with
earnest, genuine living. She would not
be warped or narrowed by suffering
God had made her too noble for that.
Of the silent intensity of the love
Ray Converse lad for her she had
never fully realized. Absorbed in her
thoughts of another she failed to COM
prehend all he had endured. when he
felt that tor her happiness he must leave
her. Afterward she had cause to know
how tender and steadfast was his love,
and sometimes it rested her to remem-
Der it. She thought how happy must
the woman be whom his love embodied,
for that he had married she never ques-
toned.
Now she knew that the highest love
of her life had never been given to
Ralph; that he had not the power to
cali it from her.
These eight years Of her life in St.
Estavenne had been years of earnest
work in her art. Two days in each
week she received her pupils in paint
ing; others she worked in her studio.
This last year the silent intensity of
her nature had found expression in a
book which had met success that sur
passed her highest expectations. This
book was the inevitable outgrowth of
all she had lived through, for to the ar
tistic nature expression is a necessity.
Nothing could have more conclusively
proved how she had outgrown her love
for Mr.. Eveleth than her power to
write this book, with it's rare analytical
characterization. AL that had died in
her heart lived on her brain with added
force.
Miss Kelsey wondered why life looked
dreary this evening. She had become
quite the center of charming circle of
people, all of exceptional gifts and cult
ure, and both artists and authors sought
her continually. The innate joyousness
and elasticity of her nature shone
through the earnestness of real rank
like a light through alabaster. The
woman was still as fresh and simple as
the child. The years of discipline had
perfected her character into rare love-
illness, and her, had nameless
magnetism, felt by all. One could not
know Miss Kelsey without giving her
the poets tribnte:
All hearts grew warmer in her presence,
AS one who, seeking not her own,
Gave freely for the love of giving.
Nor reaped for self the harvest sown.
But tonight life looked dreary to
Genevieve, and she family wondered
what she should do ali the long, lonely
winter so near at hand, thinking with
despairing thrill Of pain that life had
grown colorless, and she could not en-
dure it any longer. To this there sue
ceeded state of repressed excitement.
The rose-dush tleepened in her cheeks,
and there was a new sparkle in her
eyes. She felt presence OF unknown
happiness.
There came ring at the door, and a
voice in the hall. But she sat quite
still on the low seat in t! 9 south win
dow, where the faint odor of the ferns
breathed a subtle fragrance. The foot
steps came nearer. There was a knock
at the door.
Miss Kelsey could not herself have
told what followed. She only realized
half an hour later that Ray Converse
was beside her; that his arms embodied
her, and that his eyes were bent low
upon the pure, patient beauty that sor-
row had chiseled in her face. There
was more than the old girlish loneliness
of feature and color. The girls eager
ness had not faded, but the woman's
power was there-the woman's longing
and earnestness-for Ray had told her
what his coming meant. He held her
in his arms, and kissed again and again
the tender, clinging lips -the flushing,
paling face; and he told her the story
of his years of love in words of passion
ate intensity. He told her how, when
all was dark, the thought of her was
still the inspiration to live not unwor-
thily of her, and now that his need of
her must be met, and they would go
out together into the Joy and fullness
Of new life that should be perpetual
one of love. And Genevieve listened
to the words that thrilled every chord
of her being; listened as only woman
who has suffered and triumphed and
loved can listen to the words that first
satisfy her heart. Ray loved her; what
more could she ask?
" And now, my darling" he said
my own patient, loving little girl
you will promise to be mine tomorrow
I cannot part with you again, dear.
Life is too snort to lose one hour of its
happiness. Let tomorrow be, indeed,
the Thanksgiving of our lives"