Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1880-03-18

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"Her coldness Is worth legion of smiles. "
Clendenning thought it singular that any
woman could receive Carroll 80 coolly, and
took renewed interest IN thinking what the
result of this spur to the mettle of the man
would be.
The grand ball of the season had reached
its height. 1t grew tame, particularly to
Mrs. Carroll, who had recognized the rival
of her girhood o
Now Paul was bending over this bewitch-
ing woman, and she sang to him once again.
She threw off the icy exterior, for ''ven-
geance is sweet" She had not forgotten
that one dinner-party when the shy, brown
eyed woman came between them.
1t was all so like dream to him--the
white hand resting on his arm, and the cob
web handkerchief which she huttered so
prettily. They had wandered from the
house. He led her to the shady nook in the
vine wreathed corner, where the moons
rays lay like silver bars.
In her seeming embarrassment she tore
the rose leaves from their snowy-resting
place; he did not note the glance and the
scorn that swept her features as the white
teeth bit the red lips. He was enchanted
again.
Paul took the remnant of the mutilated
rose, thanking her for this relic. Her silence
was broken by sobs, and if a mighty power
in smiles. what danger in her tears! She
said, with averted face, "Too late for relics
You are another's, and this interview must
end.'
She turned to go. Paul, with pallid face
and luminous eyes, besought her not TO
leave him without word of hope that she
could love him still.
Il will answer you tomorrow at the
park, she replied.
A silent figure, which seemed like statu-
airy among the odorous evergreens, the dead
ly whiteness only relieved by the lace scarf,
glided away, and Anna Carroll clasped her
hands in agony.
The weak man and wicked woman kept
their engagement.
He said, in significant tones, 81 have
come to hear your answer"
Her eyes kindled in triumph, and, with
an upitted glance, she replied, '1f you pos
sessed my love two years ago, you have it
now intensified hundred times! But, all!
you are beyond loves reach"
A single horsewoman just then approach
ed with dangerous light In her usually
shy eyes. Paul's wife.
MAY | have word with you, Paul Z"
she asked.
He walked slowly by her horses side.
Quietly she drew from her finger the golden
circlet, saying; Take it back for ever and
ever!"
He thought of the anger of the previous
evening and, in order to avoid scene, re-
Piled: 1--WE will talk about this hereafter.
Without uttering word Anna dashed
from his side.
Paul returned to deserted room, and as
he read his wife's farewell missive his heart
was touched; and he started to follow her,
meeting on his way the woman who had
come between them.
All, he was under the tyranny of a des
pot who made him fettered slave, and
Inundated him in his own estimation.
The avenue leading to the hotel was
thronged with equipages. Paul Carroll
leaned back among the cushions of the low
phaeton. The conspicuous yellow curls
and white plume of the fair widow were
tossed by the lake breezes.
On their return from the hotel Mrs L Es-
TRANCE noted the recklessness of the man,
while the champagne he had taken betray-
ed itself in his unusual hilarity.
He had taken the reins. A carriage tried
TO pass them. Carroll, with an oath goad-
ed his horse to widest speed. The rival
vehicle was drawn by snow-white horses.
The road grew narrower. Carroll mad
dened by strong drink, heeds not the grasp
of the woman whose lightest wish had been
his law.
''Oh, in mercy, stop!" she pleaded.
There was whizzing of horses hoofs-
fearful crash-a wild scream of agony
the horses wounded, the carriages broken,
and all that was left of elegant, stately Paul
Carroll was mutilated mass.
Mrs. L'Estrange lay in the darkened
room, while noiseless step indicated the
presence of the careful nurse.
Mrs. Carroll had forgiven the dying wo-
man whose sin had cost her so dear.
The sad broken-heaFted wife followed
the remains of her husband to the tomb.
When she returned to the great throbbing
city, many passer by noted the mute elo-
quence of the pale, sad face, little dream
ing of the great tragedy that had occurred
on the stage of her life, leaving the sequel
to unfold when we, too, have played the
last act, and perhaps lie away in some quiet
corner awaiting judgment.