Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-08-21
sion and agitation, on the trunk of a tree

sion and agitation, on the trunk of tree
that is near.
"Cannot you trust me?'' l retort.
''Surely, after what you have said to me
to-day, my right is indubitable to expect
that much of you, Mr.. Lisle'
He makes a gesture of Impotence, and
folds his arms, meaning me to under
stand, perhaps, that if will have none
of his caresses, mine is the loss-that is
all. The action irritates me beyond en-
durance.
81 believe that telegram was from
woman. 60 on, losing all control over
myself, land you dare not show me the
contents. Deny it if you CAM
Shiveriug, clutch the old elm tree
and laugh recklessly at my own wild
words. Now that they are uttered and
cannot be recalled, am fearful exceed
ingly. There is silence, ominous silence
l stand there covering like a criminal,
with dropping affrighted eyes, and wait
until he shall pronounce my doom
"Well, you are right, Miss Murray
he says at last in cold, hard voice,
which falls like that of stranger on my
ears; aud know now that it is all over
all over-Heaven help me! The message
is from woman-a dying woman-and
pray that, if l have been hard in the
past, my hardness may be condoned, and
that l may be permitted to see her once
more on earth before it is too late. Years
ago she brought dark disgrace upon
good women. Lately, by purest chance,
she has discovered where l am living,
and has returned to me, nameless and
To Ito ~ W.
alone in the world, and l must 60 to her
at once. pray that may be IN time to
close those weary eyes, and the past shall
be forgotten and forgiven"
"And this woman" l say, breath
lessly.
els my only sister. And now, Miss
Murray, good-by. | hear the dog cart,
and have no time to lose. / must be 60
ing
that-that you have come to the decision
that!we have been too hasty; too rash
that we have made mlstake?'sI gasp
out. 'You mean that it is all over be-
tween us? That never more"
eyes, that is what 1 mean. This
morning was the dream; tonight has
been the awakening. For you have
shown me tonight how utterly impossi-
BILE it would be for US two to live our
lives together Where there is no mutu-
al trust, there can be no real happiness.
God help US both, Barbara. Perfect faith
is wanting between us two, and it is best
that we should part
"You should have told me the truth at
once,"I moan, wringing my hands in
hopeless misery. ''Whv torture me?
Why plunge me in horrible doubt? You
should have told me everything at the
very frst.''
''It was difficult to tell at that moment.
l could not do it. You should have
trusted me, and would have written to
you and explained everything in that
way. The tidings, coming so unexpect-
eddy, unnamed me, moved me terribly.
was stunned, and-and you should have
trusted me, Barbara Ny love, my little
love, goodbye
He puts his arms around me for a mo-
ment or two, kisses my hair lingeringly,
and the next moment, releasing me, he
has passed from my sight, and gone out
of my life--I know it-forever!
l sink down, crushed and broken
hearted, at the foot of the old elm tree,
and there on the dewy grass, in the
hushed purple gloom, bury my face
in my hands. But the tears will
not come tonight. l am too crushed
and sorrowful to weep even. Neverthe-
less, in my ,inmost soul l know that
George Lisle is right; and that, since
trust-mutual trusts lacking between
US, it is best that we should part. Better,
too, early than late. Yes, better so.
The moon rises presently-the day is
dead. All, me! for me the light of an
untroubled dawn can visit the earth no
more.
Maggie takes me home, next day, and
breaks to them my miserable story. They
do not laugh at me, for they can see that
my grief is very real. l am not ILL; I
do not die of a broken heart ALL ask
of them is that l shall be left alone with
my sorrow, and l am left to myself ac-
cordingly.
Years 60 by. My brothers and sisters
marry and settle down for life in various
parts Of the world; but am still alone
I take up the Times one day, and see that
George Lisle has married a wife, and 1
fall to wondering what she is like, and
whether he has forgotten Barbara Muir
| ray, and the dear old dead days at Mag
gie's country house-dear old dead days,
the tender grace of which can never come
back to me until all things earthly are
over and done with, and 1 meet my
wEilom lover in the shadow-land of
Efern;fv