The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-01-13

Nature had no fairer flower in all her
garden than this girl, in all the glory OF
her twenty summers.
But suddenly her steps are arrested.
A sound follows her from the room
which she has just left. 1t is the voice
of the man at the piano, breaking into
passionate song. The clear, rich bari
tone rounds each word into musical DIS
tinctness. Together she and the moon
light listen
"In the cleaning, oh my darling.
When the tights are dim and low,
And the quiet shadows falling,
Softly come and so.tly go
When the winds are so5bing family
With gentle, unknown woe,
Will you think of me and love me
As you did, long ago.
moments pause, and then follows
the second verse
In the cleaning, oh my darling,
Think not bitterly of r.e.
Tho passed a way in silence,
Left YOU lonelv-set YOU free,
For my heart was crushed with longing;
What lad been never could be,
It was best 70 leave YOU darling
Lest for you and best ior me"
Was it only song the singer sang =?
Had its passionate echo. ringing i'll her
heart, not found its source n his? Had
the words meaning TO him as to her?
Even as she thought he joined her.
Were those tears he saw glimmering on
the dark lashes? No man had ever seen
Helen Ransom week. They called her a
beautiful piece of ice, soulless, and a
couuet. Yet even ice will melt beneath
the torrid rays of an August sun.
A soul may sleep unconscious of its
own existence, until wakened by the roy
al touch Of its unheralded sovereign; a
coquet may act her part, believing it only
the farce preceding the plan, until she
finds herself chief performer in Lifes real
tragedy.
Helen" said the man beside her.
His quiet utterance of the one word
uttered by his lips for the first time,
held the same powerful charm of his
music.
It was rich. and low, and sweet, but
she shivered rs she listened. Could it
be that she who had welded so long the
sceptre must abdicate her throne at last,
and be but handmaiden to her king?
Yet in and about the latter thought
was weaved a sweetness not at all the
purple of her sovereignty could afford.
Her pulses leaped and the very silence
following her name was more eloquent
than words.
She glanced up against her will. His
gaze compelled hers. His eyes, dark,
eager and searching were bent full upon
her face but in them was a look of
anguish.
Slowly he opened his arms, not invit-
ing her to their embrace, but as though
Wanting their emptiness.
Helen he repeated, Il am come to
bid YOU goodbye"
"Good-bye?" she echoed. with white,
trembling lips, as she struggled for calm.
Yes he answered. l have been
dreaming; ] am now awake. | go to
fulfill my promised troth to a woman
God help me-whom | thought loved.
1t Is hard to leave. Will you not help
me to my duty?"
Then she knew all that the song had
meant. 1t had been his farewell to her,
For two short weeks only they had been
to9ether-two short weeks-yet long
enough to learn the lesson of a lifetime.
She had never dreamed of this He
had never mentioned to her any other
woman's name, and yet-and yet, he was
betrothed.
in the cleaning. oh my darling!
Think not bitterly of me,
Though passed away in silence,
Lett you lonely, set you iree."
The song had told her what his honor
compelled him to leave unsaid. His
honor? Was ii not a false, barren idea
of honor?
Here, in the veil of silence soul was
barred TO soul, and each knew the awful,
solemn truth. He had made an error
1t was not yet too late to retrieve it.
Her heart cried out with hungry pain.
She had not known its furnishing until
sustenance had been placed just beyond
its reach. She could not help him to his
mistaken duty. Yet he had erred once.
Might he not err again? Perhaps away
from her he would return to his old allie
glance. She who commanded il would
never know his waverirg; and, as 10 her
own hurts, she had not yet acknowl-
edged them even to him, scarce to her.
self.
The bleeding was all internal. Thank