The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-06-07


bunch of daisies sent namelessly-
l was debating it all absorbedly still, the
morning when Aunt James voice broke in. For
all my Inconsistency, for all the scandal she
was very glad since did not love Frank Burn
ably, that was not going TO marry him.
The scandal we must stem as best we could.
And the proper thing would be for me to go
away a while.
Three days found me with other relatives in
distant city. 1t was all the same to me; had
carried my fond dreams with me- though little
modified; did not send my nameless daisies,
nor move John Ward in any way. Time, rehec-
ton, slowly sha med me, and though i never
dreamed to regret what had done, decided it
would be at least becoming to let things take
their course.
They would, knew. And quito patiently 1
waited, and all eagerly / searched Rues letters
they were the one tie-for some word or news
of him 1t came at last; John Ward was home;
the old house was being thoroughly renovated,
she believed she was quite sure the meant to
stay-all told in Rue's sly way, and struggled
with mad beating heart as realized things must
take their course he must wait proper time,
and surely should not object,
More eagerly even searched the letters now,
for scarcely one but had some little note Of him.
And it grew an earnest impulse with me to con
fide in Rue; to tell her all the mystery OF my
conduct towards Frank Burnaby. Somehow L
did not, though | was never nearer to it than
when l opened the letter which came after
months.
Its first page brought a sigh of relief, for it
spoke of Burnaby; he had gotten over his dis
appointment; he was going to be married very
soon This was joyful news indeed, for to my
growing pity for my second lover there had
joined quickly a growing dread; the white face,
the wild cry, haunted me despite myself. And
so, naturally, with smile following the sigh l
read down through the ordinary news Of Rues
letter to-these concluding lines:
81 have something to tell you which will surprise
you, Hetty. My widower has TO TERMS dear
IOl, aV,,lI tr-p
weeks.
You will forgive me that did not tell YOU Some
how for once, was shy and could not and somehow
wanted to surprise you, too. And you will come
homework you dear) Now that this has come out
about Frank Burnaby need care at all
A clear, hard truth it flashed; no merciful mo
ment of bewilderment CHANGED to me- | had
never a thought of Rues words that day-thls
Rue to whom, since she came home from board
ing school year ago nothing had seemed easier
than to fall in love That she had ever a second
thought of him. a care beyond would have made
me smile. But here it was in black and white
and-ah. the deafness of my dream. She had
read Alright the tale of his changed eyes; the
sweet fancy of the daisies was all a strange,
strange mockery. She was to marry him, and
to live henceforth a friend and neighbor to
them both.
Some way shall be revenged.'
Suddenly the words came back. | met them
with a SILVER but with a little laugh. For
they awoke no repentance; | rather thanked
a
it out with pride.
Il will surely come home for your wedding
dear" | wrote to Rue. But it was the very wed
ding day before got back to Chesney, fierce as
the fight had been. 1t was late when ! arrived
and had opportunity only for a few words with
Rue ere 1 shut myself up in my room to make
my toilet. One thing, with wicked intent, l
had resolved upon; | would look my best; l
would grasp one last poor satisfaction. If John
Ward had ever loved me, he should remember
it tonight.
/ stood looking in the glass at last, with
every reason TO be content yet withal, this last
poor satisfaction already slipping away from
me- A feeling Of terror almost was upon me. a
weakness had not feared. l conid never go
through with it, 1 was sure, and-whatever
came, Iwould not try. With sudden impulse
began unfasten1ng my gloves. when
There came a knock at the door, and little
package was handed in to me; box l opened
with shudder, and quick thought of Frank
Burnaby to see
A bunch of daisies, and a card attached
You are going to a wedding tonight, and SO am L.
If there is in you heart any vestge of the old love-
any regret for the past sweet wish for the future
will you let know the blessed truth BY wearing
somewhere these daisiesg
John Ward, the card was signed A minute
l stood shocked, Mortified as / read it; this was
wiekedness beyond even me- And then the sure
truth dawned; it was all forgery, it was Frank
Burnabys revenge. Yet mood seized me: l
would wear them, and, with an odd feeling of
exultation | fastened them on my hair and
breast Then, somehow, so sure a truth this
grew, dared not go down when that happy
bride was waiting; listenedtill they had all gath
cred in the parlor then, with eyes aowncast, a
very criminal, 1 crept into the room.
For better or worse, till death do us part
Slowly my eyes had lifted in q dream j listed
to the sweet marriage ritual; in a maze, be
wildering, overpowering. / looked over at the
two standing by the archway, till the solemn
voices died and the busy hum of gladder ones
began. And yet du1nbly, till
Suddenly hand touched my shoulder
turned TO see-John Wards radiant eyes looking
into mine.
Shall we congratulate them DEAR he said
'"ro think you should have had such fancy, -
spoke pretty Mrs John Roper. rnischievously,
that night, only few weeks later when we four
stood together in the little aute-room. My
dear, / fell in love with two widowers more be
fore l found the right one; although, of course,
/ did not know what love is till now, she added,
with sudden tender, earnest look at her hus-
band.
With happy smile and blush, 1 drew bit
closer to my lover.
'.Did we, john eyes more than lips questioned
Of him.
Ibid we!' murmured John Ward, fondly. And
then we went in to be married
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