Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1882-03-31


dows, and her lashes are wet with tears.
The gardener and his young wife. with
their new baby, are crossing the lawn to
the greenhouse. ".
Leslie, he says, gently, 'you are still
grieving for your little one?''
mo, No." she cries, with sudden pas
sion. 81 cannot thank God enough for
taking him. If he had lived. he might
have been like bis father. was only
thinking what used to dream life was,
and what + find life is" She catches her
breath sharply. startled at her own vehe-
mence and Gordon Leish's wonderings
cease. Henow knows that Leslie no long
er loves Wallace Hobart or Wallace Ho-
bart's memory. and the thought gives him
4 thrill of jog. =. Z s.-.as--4--ss- $50
''Child,' he says. slowly, and the sup
pressed passion in his voice quivers through
all its forced indifference, flour years ago
In this same room, I told you had some
thing TO tell you. Other things drove my
secret out of your mind. thought then
you would never hear it, but the time has
come to tell it. Leslie, my little one.
would you like to hear what that some
thing was?''
sob, no." she cries eagerly. "Let US
go on as we are" %2as.
That is impossible" he answers, and
in simple. manly manner tells the story of
his love.
She listens with fingers nervously inter-
laced, and when he asks her if she can
give him any hope, she sadly shakes her
head.
He is silent moment, then touches his
lips to her clasped hsnds.
"Good- bye," he says quietly Twill go
away by myself and conquer this madness
and when it is quite ended. l will come
back and be your friend. Don't cry, little
one; God knows would not bring shad-
owls shadow across your life. l shall soon
get over it, never fear; and in the mean.
time goodbye
1T is I that should go,' she says, brok-
emily.
''This is your home, child, and without
you the world is all alike to me. Smile be-
fore l 60 Leslie; don t like to leave you
in tears"
Leslie smiles obedient to his will, and
Gordon stoops and reverently touches the
clasped hands once more; and then with q
look that is literally caress he leaves her
alone with the moonlight and the roses.
Gordon's departure arouses Leslie most
effectually from her lethargy. She awak-
ems to find her heart still keenly alive to
love. Home seems homeless without Cor
don. She misses him in the morning,
when the mother is deep in household
cares; she misses him in the afternoon,
when all the world seems reading or asleep;
and she misses him IN the evening, when
Mrs. Leigh mods drowsily in the starlight,
and the lovers 90 strolIing past two by two.
Everything about the house reminds her
of him. The papers, the books, the flow
ers, and most OF all the little room with
the curious diamend-paned windows. She
longs for his return, but pride keeps her
silent; for has she not told him her life
was ended over and over again? And now
she finds her life just begun. She discov-
ers that her love for Hobart was an infat-
uation and madness born of youth and in
experience, while her love for Leigh is
something based on respect and tinged
with reverence.
Mrs. Leigh is puzzled by tho variable
ness of Leslie's moods. One day tho rirl
sings and laughs with her old-time merri-
ment, and the next she is dull and listless
and sad. She fits from one thing to anoth-
er with rapidity that distracts slow Mrs.
Leigh, and no longer repulses the atten-
lions of men, but receives them AZ other
women receive them; then suddenly be-
comes interested in her toilet, dresses her
hair as Gordon likes it, and tries the effect
OF colDrS.
Mrs. Leigh accounts for the change in
the usual woman's way. She feels sure
Leslie is about to be remarked, and set
ties upon Mr.. Guerdon as the happy wooer.
and in the midst of it all Gordon Leigh
comes home. and Is told Mrs. Lelgh's sus-
plcions before he has been in the house
two hours.
81 am very glad of it," he answers.
calmly, "And Guerdon is a good fellow,
though just triae stupid. I suppose she
will tell me the whole thing tonight" g
II suppose so,'' echoes his mother; for
she is fully convinced in her own mind of
the truth of her assertions, and fancies
Leslie is only waiting her sons return to
make her engagement public.
Gordon looks tired and sober when be
joins Leslie in the room with curious dfa-
mond-paned windows. He can scarcely
realize that her marriage is not a dream,
tonight, she seems so like the child Leslie
that grew into womanhood under his roof.
"Little one," he says, kindly, s'the
mother tells me you are quite yourself
again. am very glad, and if there is
anything you would like to toll me, I shall
be glad to hear it. You must forget those
foolish words of mine. I am quite over
that Stiffness now, and am content to be
your friend. Believe me, little one, shall
Do the hrst TO rejoice over anything that
makes you happy
The girl looks at him through mist of
5ears. What can he meant Has he al
ready forgotten her?
Gordon" she answers, II made a ter
:ible mistake in the beginning of my life,
md 1 think have made another
"Tell me about it." he says quietly.
"Ah!" she answers, broken, "you have
made that impossible"
SIP" he asks in surprise. 81 do not un-
lerstand you."
"Neither can explain" she replies
proudly.
'Leslie," says Gordon. firmly. 81 intend
% know what you mean before I leave
'ou, so you may as we'll tell me at once.
ou shall Lot wreck your happiness twice. |