The Princeton union., 1880-07-22

grandmother's room, hearing ever the
river that ran below, listening and start
ing in her feeble dreams for voice that
now never would come again.
She knew it, she told herself; it never
would come again.
~ One day, Madame Schuyler, after sit
ting BY her grandd daughter for long
tune and noting change which startled
her, rose and went softly out Of the room.
She found writing desk and scrawled q
few hasty lines; then, as If afraid of her
work or doubtful of her strength of mind,
she sealed and directed them, and tossed
the letter to a servant, with sharp word
Of command,
After that, by Juliet's bed she waite d
and watched. i
Not far off the end was. Thrice the
sun rose and set, and then one day Juliet
lying there, heard a footstep on the stairs.
All the lost beauty of those sunny sum
mer days, when Harry Templeton had
loved and left her, came back into the
dying girls face as she lifted herself
with her last weak remnant Of strength
and reached out her arms. All was for
gotten now, sorrow and lonely waiting,
as he bent over her and ciasped her thin
hands in his.
II loved you, Juliet; I was true to YOU
Why did you send me that cruel mes
sagea why did you send me my picture
back9" ..+
A last rosy wave of lovely color swept
over Juliet schuyler's faded face; the
forehead beamed; the dainty dimples
filled again with blush and beauty. r
''Forglve me!'' she whispered first:
then putting her hand under her pillow.
she drew out the printed slip of paper
and Madge Colchesteris letter. Harry
read them both slowly. Madame Schuy-
Ter, sitting opposite, watched him with
keen, cold eyes. ;,
he read them both through carefully,
and then turned to Juliet. The change
IN her look startled him. There was not
moment to lose if he would speak.
He put the papers aside; later he
might explain to Madame Schuyler; but
on the serene burning out Of this white
life, no shadow now should fall from
him.
he bent over the dying girl and took
the two white little hands tenderly In his
own.
''Juliet, you will believe what say to
you nowg'' .>......,
She stirred softly, the cold hands nes-
tied like birds in his.
II loved you always. did YOU no
wrong, and I would have come back to
you had you not forbidden it in your
message that day. Do you believe what
I sayg'' .'..5.,.. m... ~aor
He was answered py the lifted beauty
OF her eyes. In their pure depths was
burning the light Of a new life that would
have made all other lights seemed cold
and dim. -,,.. 49, r....
u He kissed the trembling lips.
thus now claim may aoife!" Il.
A slight shiver passed over her--her
bosom rose and fell; then, with sudden
movement, she turned her head-the soft
light faded out of her eyes, and the tired
eyelids closed. - .'>
= Fsa.< = ~ e
These two, the lover and the grandma
ther, stood alone above their dead.
= Harry Templeton took up the letter
and the printed slip of paper. h.
aGe! Let me tell you,'' said he, sswhat T
could not say to her at that time-it was
Madge Colchester who sent this! !p' he
pointed to the paper. "It was asubscrip-
tlon ball, and the proceeds went to the
fever sufferers in the South.'
Madame Schuyler smiled coldly.
l. "This, he took up Madge's letter
was written with the same evil purpose
with which she sent the other. The
words themselves are true, but they
are a lie to the conclusions to
which they lead. I was working at Ju-
liet's picture through the summer. When
Miss Colchester came to Newport she
gave me three sittings for the pose of
the figure" s.-'-'
Madame Schuyler's smile grew colder
still; a dark fame began to kindle in
Harry Templeton's eyes. .'.@1 .
"You do not believe me-" he cried
out, passlonately. "You have no faith
in me. Nevertheless, will tell you all.
From Newport went to Saratoga. I
had no thought of doing wrong. I meant
to finish the painting and hasten back
here, but the gambling-tables drew me.
I lost money and stayed on, hoping to
win it back.'' : .i.- i. . -
He paused moment.
"Then came Juiet's message, that
cruel letter. felt your scorn behind It.
I knew your 2lnfuence-I was reckless.
All, Madame Schuyler, why were you
not kinder to me2''
i@ The sternDld face fronting him did
not once change-never oncev' 4
''Do you not think I understand yous''
she asked, slowly. II know what such
daliance as yours was, means. The bad
blood Of the old Templeton race speaks
there. Your sin was sweet to you.''
''She stood q moment silent, looking
down at the dead girls face.''
You could not make my darling hap
py. 1t is better as it is.''
) She left the room, her black-veiled fig
ure gliding like mourning shadow down
the hall. -. j. +, - /
Late that night Madame Schuyler
stood before the picture in her room.
For The last time she looked at the hand
some face-the face which had been so
dear to her in the far-away days Of her
youth. sefs ~ -. .s,---.s