Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1882-06-01

gold nail. the sweeping folds of her
white silk dress clinging closely to the
slight, supple form. it was no difficult
matter to understand the yearnino
pathos which underlined the man S cues,
tioning.
How the music Knocked him, too. Five
minutes before, and it had whispered
hope and courage. and love; now it
meant knell, dirge, requiem.
He was not yet thirty, and already his
future was made q barren waste by the
wrecked harvest of his fairest hopes He
staggered moment as the last ..No!"
fell from the exquisitely-curved lips of
| deepest scarlet-staggered as though the
tiny, ungloyed hand had dealt him an
| actual physical blow-then he stood still
and SILENT and then he spoke. Intense,
concentrated wrath mingled with an
guish, rs looking full into the wonderful
eyes which had lured him, he forced
them to return his gaze.
$50 you have never loved me?" he
said. "Are YOU woman or tiendp Was
but a toy for Your amusement-a Sum-
mer plaything? Did YOU in your heart
lessness conceive me heartless like YOUR
sell: Have you any conception of the
fire your hand has kindled--a fire which
| might have turned all GOODNESS for ever
from your path, but which YOU now bid
consume upon itself in self-torture far
greater than any living flame might Gre
ate? You have never loved mep What
have your eyes told me as they uplifted
themselves with maddening softness to
my faceP What have your lips told me
III their sweet, soft murmurings? You
are but nineteen. | fancied You child
whose heart was to my gaze an open
page. | thought how ] would shield
! YOU in my love from the deceit and
| trcacheres of the world, of its men and
lis women, and 10! YOU were already a
| proficient in its arts. Again | k YOU
| why have you done this thing?'
You have no right to speak in this
manner she answered; then: I'VE both
were fencing with sharp words. 1t was
our Summer pastime- Forgive me if
mine slipped and hurt YOU
Forgive your Oh, how low and in
tense was his utterance of the two simple
words, Forgive you, Never, while
live. | could have forgiven you that
you did not love me, but that you should
| have lured me step by step along the
| treacherous path whose end is the abyss
of despair--that having gained it, you
hurl me over with 4 laugh Of triumph
at your sorceress arts-that your eyes
and your lips alike should have lied to
me when frried both the home of
truth--forgi you this? Never. Nor is
this all. As YOU have dealt with me, so,
pray Heaven, may man one day deal
with you. SO believe he will 1t is
the law of recompense. As have loved
you, so YOU one day will love. Looking
IN his face then, at the moment YOU
! fancy it Your heaven, he will laugh your
wuman's trust, your woman's conf
dencc, your woman's love, to scorn. In
that moment, though never before or
after, you viii think of and remember
me-
! With these words, with deferential
courtesy he offered her his arm. escort
ed her back to the ball room, returned
her to her ohaperone, bowed low and
left her.
The next morning, it was announced
that Hubert Daryl had left London. Isa-
| bel was forced to bear the brunt of the
| abrupt departure; but though the many
questions pressed upon her showed that
| all held a suspicion Of the truth, her
fancied triumph was savorless and yap-
id, and a heavy depression had settled
upon her spirit she could neither shake
off nor comprehend.
Within month, however, her formal
engagement was announced to Lord
| Undermount, a man full thirty years her
senior, rich and equity. The wedding,
| the following Winter, was noted for its
| splerdor, the bride for her beauty; but
none knew the almost aching heart she
carried beneath the exquisite satin robe
the heart which was beginning TO
know its own needs and realize its own
mistakes.
| Four wears later she stood beside her
husbands coffin. He had been very
fond, very proud, of his young wife, and
if sometimes he had suspected that he
! had gra,ied her ambition. not her love,
he gave Of his disappointment no sign.
But his enemy, the govt, had struck
home to his brave, kindly heart, and
! solved for MIN the question of life.
His funeral was as splendid as had
beer his wedding; and then Isabel re-
| turned alone to the lonely splendor of
the home of which she now held undis-
puted right and title.
Did she grieyc? The lovely face was
very pale; the delicate figure was grace
full in its deep mourning robes; the Sc
clusion she assumed of the strictest or
der What need was there for the world
to know more?
Thus three years passed. Then she
emerged from her chrysalis. She still
wore delicate lavenders and pearls, but
she had laid aside her Grape, and the
beautiful hair was no longer concealed
by her widows cap. Society had glad
| " welcomed her return to its midst, but
| the old zest for it had gone.
She half determined, one December
night, to forego an invitation 70 dinner
! she had accepted, pleading sudden in
| disposition a. an excuse; but the re-
membrance of her hostess's disappoint-
ment induced her to tear up the uniinish-
| ed note to this effect, and resign herself
;n,4oaI TO Tho banda pf her n, qiI 10