The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1883-04-20
CHAPTER XVII.
HIS WAY OFT.


| CHAPTER XVII.
HIS WAY OFT.
Well-of a the cold-blooded pieces
of cruelty he had ever heard or read OF,
/ this was the most atrocious! To come
| TO him while the breath announcing her
! engagement was still warm in the air;
( to stand here and speak to him as calm
! ly as if he were no more than q respect
! able man of business who was TO be
/ raid for his services!-it was the most
deliberate and heartless insult that cou d
be offered to anv poor creature.
Good God!-what was she made of?
Could she have any feeling at all? And
did she think that he had none that he
was as cold and passionless as herself?
Yet she could not be passionless either;
he had good reason TO know that. But
then, her disp ny of passion had been
the pitiful outburst of offended vanity.
not offended love. Without doubt
she had come there, moved by some
vicious curiosity to look once more at
the man she had thrown aside so con-
temptuouslv. and to prove to him that
she was quite indifferent about the past.
How calmly she spoke: how calmly she
looked-and how beautiful,
yes; be she what she might in soul she
wasstih beautiful, and those eyes were
ito him still full of soft light which
Seemed to be the moon-rellection of
g oriouS sun within.
Curse it! Why was this sickening
yearning taking possession of him
again? Why was all life sinking away
from him and he. without her. only a
worthless atom floating bindly, aimiess-
ly about in a world of dense log?
But it was unpardonable-her coming
there at such a time: coming at the
| very hour when he was tlatterinr HIM
self that it was possible to accept the
dull round of the humdrum existence
she had left him. He had been vague
ly sensible that he was falling into his
dull groove and was beginning to have
some glimpses of that peace of mind
which is obtained in state of sheer
stupidity, and which was worth hav-
ing. although there are in it no days of
great hope and happy endeavor. She
came and again arose that terrible men.
tai Frankenstein, called "What-might-
have beenm
| But he had been calm, too, through
out the interview; he had been bust
ness like and polite: nothing more. He
hoped he had been polite; he meant to
be so-perfectly polite. He meant to
show her every possible sign of respect,
nerve was thrilling with the wild crav-
ing merely to touch her hand. She had
not seen that and she could not feel it.
Yet the longing had been upon him all
the time, and the effort to conceal il
made it hard to bear. There she was,
standing before him-Lucy. He heard
her voice, and no matter what its tone,
something modulated the sound into the
sweet voice OF Lucy.
1t was useless striving with this
thing which had not only taken posses
sion of his being, but was his being.
He hated to call it love: the meaning
of the poor word had become so de-
graded by its application to any pass
ing whim of a boy or the fancy of a
girl-having as much bearing upon the
actual business of their lives as the
temporary mana of the one for a
bicycle and of the other for a new
dress. This strange thing which held
b m, like Victor Hugo's devil-fsh, was
his life. He smiled at the droll simile;
probably devil-fish was as good . name
as could be found for this mysterious
Something which gave pain as intense
rs its pleasure.
And so she was to marry Sir Freder-
lex Powell, of Woodstow; it was q good
match. He was q sensible fellow with
no absurd views about anything; an
easy-going mortal, good-natured and
happy. because he was content TO fol-
low the plain beaten paths before him.
and never had thought of stepping
aside to seek impossible flowers
through impenetrable mszes. She
would be happy with such man-that
was something. Maurice could fancy
her in the first welded years enjoying
all the pleasures which wealth could
obtain. and passing ca 70 centented
round of simnle dnties which Would fall |