The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1881-04-14


do what chose with him.
Have you n room in this building,
tn9" I demanded.
II have"
LEAD me to it."
There was hesitation in his look, and
repeated my demand with an oath.
lie stood irresolute for d moment, and
then said if would wait moment uutil
he had adjusted some affairs in his room
he would comply with my demand. This
added new food TO my suspicions, and /
cursed him for bis artfuness. He could
not.deceiye me, and | reiterated my de-
mand that lie should show me the room
at once.
did not think that up To this time the
shameful nature of my suspicious had
really been apprehended by him.
When these dawned upon him, there was
o fire in his eye and quick, painful swell.
ling Of his veins and muscles which |
may never see again. Pain, indignation
and determination wero all there, and /
felt in moment that l had reused a
nature whose depth and strength / had
failed hitherto to measure. With great
selfcon:rol, however, he said, "Mr.
Kennedy you ere unjust to tho woman
whose happiness, fear, is dearer to me
than to you. Did feeat liberty to dis
regard her peace, would sooner hug O
dagger to my heart than to yield for @
/ moment to your nsolence. Even now
i you can only enter my room on my con-
ditions. Stand here for moment and
| will call you"
"Takc your own coursc,"I doggedly
replied.
lie passed up the stairs, and /, to avoid
l a uf uIr r.
one Of those cal IN winter days that show
u heaven as puro and blue as if storm
had never stained it. / had stood thus
4 hardly ten seconds, when Mr.. Benton
idescended few steps and spoke my
name. followed him up the stairs
through dim passage into room chastc
in its appointments, but filled with o
light rs soft and pure as If even the
glorious day without had been refined by
passage through some rare medium. In
my state of mind could hardly compre-
hend the objects before me at glance.
But knew that was in an artists stu.
dio. Benton vas silent, but my eye SO.
lccted at once the prominent painting
OF the apartment. / looked and was
struck with fit of shivering. 1t was the
portrait of my bride-my darling Jane :;
was dumb. could not have spok OH he d
it been to save my life.
l have no ides how long stood thus,
whom Mr. Benton approached me and
took my unrcsisting hand
mir. Kennedy" said he, with chol.
ing sound in his throat, II knew of no
proper way for mo to contribute to .ne
happiness of one whom l have loved
as l can never love another except by
doing pleasure to the man whom she
| has honorcd with her love. I thought it
would be pleasant 10 J0u to have por-
trait Of your wife as she appeared in her
bridal attire, and at my solicitation she
has been here number Of times to ait for
her picture. Her friend, Miss Stephens,
has been here with her, andyour servant
had just passed from sight when you
came up, with the package containing
her dress. III have done wrong, forgive
me; hut thought 1t m5uidd make you
all so happy |"
/. AS he closed these words, uttered with
honest. emotion, every one Of which went
like dagger 10 my heart, I found
strength to lift my eyes to his. The big
tears were hanging to his eyelids, and his
face, III that exquisite light, Was as beau
tifnl us If. it had been the face of
an ANGEL We looked at one another O
moment, and then, moved by common
impulse, throw. ourselves into ono an
others arms, and cried, sir- cried like
two babies.
0, my God, Tom that was the hardest
thing that eve.' happened TO mo. I was
killed by u,agnanimity too greet for my
mean heart 10 fathom. I seized him by
the arm at last, led him down stairs, and
took the way to my own house. You
know my impulses, and you know could
not stop until had made clean breast
Of it. 1went st"aightto to my house, kissed
Jane dozen times, told the whole story
and made myself Ridiculous. Poor Jane!
she was ashamed of me, and I do not
think she has got over it yet.
"And Bentcn"-I suggested
Benton remained and drank tea with
| us, in accordance with my earnest wishes
and cent the picture home the next day;
but he has not been here since. doubt
whether he will ever como again. The
fact ia, your friend, Fred. Kennedy, mas
never felt SO humble as he has since that
day. and have wondered how Jane. who
knew us both we'll, could have made the
choice she did between U.S."
$50 have l." most emphatically res.
ponded.
"Wcll, now, am bothered to know
WHtt W Wv Vail DcuIOu no ID TOO
proud to receiVaany favors ofme. Icau-
not offer him money. cannot offer him
anything. I'll tell you what I've been
thinking about; and you, shall tell me
how it strikes you. You see what
fellow am. I,shall tear myself all to
pieces In q few, years, and have brought
myself to this. Before die will make
solemn request of Jane TO marry Benton
for second husband"
At this moment Mrs. Fred. Kennedy
appeared, her checks flushed to vermillion
with the effect of the cold eYening air.
did not.wonder at the ennobling in
auence of such pure bea;.:, as here
upon Bonton's 'sesenstive mind Fred.
introduced me, and somehow weall found
ourselves before the portrait at once. 4
"I've told Tom all about it," said Fred.
to his wife.
Mrs. Kennedy gave him a look Of
wounded reproach,g and then said to me
ip way which spoke volumes, "You
know Fred"
Fred. has become an humble man and
bids fair to put off the day or Mr.. Ben.
toms happiness to very indefinite future.
Besides, his family has been increased TO
that degree that it would be doubtful
whether the artist would be willing to
take tho bereayed Mira. Kennedy with the
"incumbrance." Still, have no doubt
that Fred's imaginary sacrifice has
served its purpose In restoring, in come
degree. his seifrespeot.