The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1883-11-06
a AKE.I"E uUsING.

why the Beautiful Gwendoleu Mahadj
Couldn't Marry Harold Nonesueb.
Chicago Tribune.
"Do you like apple fritters?"
The November Sun, strangely beautiful
in It's deep crimson glow, was sinking slow
ly into mass Of dull gray clouds that wert
piled up in the western horizon, and cast
ing such bright, aureate glow on tht
Landscape as to remind one Of the TABLED
time when the gods played with blocks o.
gold that filed the world with their daz
zling CLEAN. Gwendolen Mahaffy sat at 4
window Of Distress Warrant Castle and
gazing wistfuIly out at the scene which
Nature-mother Of all art-had pictured In
such vivid colors, had asked Of him who
stood beside her the QUESTION with which
this chapter opens.
Very beautiful was Gwendolen-a calm,
pensive beauty that witched men with a
subtle influence and kept them blindly fol.
lowing the iynis fatuus Of hoped.for love
that could never exist; kept them willing
vassals 10 passion that finally left them
ghastly wrecks on the wind-swept sea OF
shattered hopes.
1t vas this beauty-this fatal four.hush
beauty-thst kept Harold Nonesuch by
GSendoleL'd de. Her brow, broad and
white, her skin, delicate as young rose
LEAF, with tho faipt flush on her cheeks,
bslIlsd description; bur it was in her eyes,
large, dark, aud Swallowed by their lashes
until their violet depths looked black, that
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yond poetic phrase or artist to reproduce
was her deep, intellectual nature and ap-
petite for pie, softened by spirituality OF
soul that would Cf!en make her stub her
toe when she thought about it. Hers was
loveliness like that Of delicate tropical
flower, which blooms but to perish in all
It's beauty-too fragile for the storms and
aims OF earth, too soilless and sacred for this
life. Gwendolen often thought Of this as
she lay in her bed at night watching the
stars that seemed like ssntinels keeping
silent vigil over sin.stained world, and
then, when perhaps all the household were
sleeping, abe would get up and eat cold
toast. There was ever wistful yearning
In her heart for the unknowable-ane eager
seeking for something, she knew not what,
that seemed forever and ever just beyond
the back fence OF her soul.
And 80 the years had gone on in their
silent march to the tomb OF the ages, until
Giwendolen, standing on the verge Of wo-
manhood, had received from Harold None!
such the greatest compliment that man can
ray 10 woman-an offer 10 try ana pay her
board. Never for an instant had she sus
peeled the deep, passionate admiration
that this mans soul held Tor her, and oil
which he had Just spoken in tones that
were tremulous with hopeful expectancy.
Aud then, mastering by y mighty effort the
shock that his unexpected words had
cauaed, she had answered him with the
question, 80 weird in Its realism as to he
almost grotetqne, that appears above.
For an instant Harold seemed dszed by
the girls words, and stood silently beside
astaIue Of Pysche striving TO suppress the
terrible grief that threatened to master
every emotion OF his being. As he stood
there, the long evening shadows slanting
ucrCss .thesward and the purple mists OF
Indian summer browning the bills with
their royal bEze, he felt that lie without
The love OF this woman would bea Sahara
OF grief, an endless desert OF disappoint-
ed hope ard crushed ambition over which
The screening winds oil sorrow and anguish
would ever blow with pililees fury.
And then, Just as a COB was yelling up
from his vest, he felt pair Of soft, warm
arms twining lovingly around his neck,
and close beside his own there was pressed
a clear.cut cameo face that seemed in its
piritueiie beauty like vision from another
world. There were tears in tho violet eyes
that looked into bis go pleading and The
curves OF the dropping mouth were tense
with the agony Of 40 all.poweriul sorrow.
For an instant neither spoke, and Gwendo.
len was the first to break the silence.
you must know, Harold" she said, in
tones that were hoarse with agony, ",hat
for months my heart has been in your
keeping, and you must also have known
that my love is no ephemeral passion-no
let-me take.y urslale-penci!-and-you-can
cheT-my gum.atrecess affection that Is
here to-day, and tomorrow where is 1t?
And yet, despite this fact, thich so freely
acknowledge, and Of which am more than
proud, can never BIZ your wife,"
"Why nei?" he asked, in tones that are
almost sob.
"Becauae," answers Gwendolen. ~ have
cold, Boston feet"