The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1884-08-28
lines in the italian journals spoke OF

lines in the italian journals spoke OF
that.
One day while he was coming out OF
Spithover's, where he had been to get
some of Anderson's photographs, the
well-known brougham of Lady Garlic,
with its livcries of crimson and silver,
drew up. Its handsome mistress
alighted.
She started with evident surprise as
her eye fell on Julian. Then she came
nearer and gave him her hand. For q
moment neither spoke.
81 had your letter, and obeyed,"
said Julian softly.
"Then why-why are you back again ?"
asked my lady, with little culver in
her voice.
He looked meaningly around him.
"Such a crowd-so many here" he
said, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Ah, 1 understand. There is some
explanation. Come to me at 5 o'clock"
She bowed and passed on, leaving
Julian standing irresolute on the pave
ment.
1t was o'clock then. Up and down
the Piazza di Spagna he paced, I'M
mindful of the sun which, notwith-
standing the freshness of Roman
winter, beat down in fierce, binding
glare of light.
He so longed to go, and now that he
was hidden, he scarcely dared to obey
her command or his own ardent inclina-
tons. But toward the hour appointed
he turned out into the Via Babuino,
the street leading directly to my lady's
villa.
She was alone in the very room in
which their last interview had been
held. She came forward to receive
him with slight timidity and diffidence
which well became her, rare though
these moods were. She only said:
Il am terribly glad to see you, Julian,
things are so dull" But her eyes gave
forth a welcome which he had not
dreamed she would offer.
"What is the maternity are you
here so soon?" she questioned, and
breathlessly and somewhat hesitatingly
he answered her.
When he had finished, she glanced up
with look of almost eager longing
into his face.
Julian" she said, in low tone, "we
have met with misfortune. /, too, have
lost. Poor Garlic never came back
from the war in Algiers."
"Yes, we are unfortunate" he an
swered, with some embarrassment.
"The old motto is on my ring-you
spoke of it that day, you recollect.
Well, the cursed saying proved true in
my case. was base enough to forget,
and so L am forgotten. Are you glad
or sorry?"
He did not look at her for her an
swer. He only leaned his head against
the low marble mantel, and his
thoughts seemed to wander far away.
Gently she clasped her hands around
his arm. Dear Julian" she said,
family, you are not forgotten. Will
you not believe that one will always
remember?"
His head was turned away, but he
pressed her hands tightly with both his
own.
"Caro-caro, must [ beg of youp
Why will you not forgive me for send
ing you away?'
Still he was silent.
"There is nothing now to reproach
me. There will be nothing to reproach
you, Julian-caro MIC. Why are you
cold to me now?"
He had gone there half resolved to
pay her in part for the anguish she had
made him suffer when she wrote those
cruel lines which banished him, but he
could not withstand her pleading tones.
He caught her light form in his arms,
and almost crushed her III his strong
embrace.
"Oh, my darling, ] shall never he
cast off now. OF what matter if all the
world forgets, so that you alone will re-
member"
He kissed her passionately and
pressed her closer to his breast. My
lady looked up with an arch smile into
his earnest eyes.
Julian, caro-, am thinking, we were
once so wrong in loving, and now we
are so happy. Why is it that the
wicked ones have paradise and the
good. ones are often beggars at the
gate? If you had been too true to the
English girl to have looked at me or
ever kissed me, and 1 too good wife
to take such kisses, why, she might
have stayed to make your life unhappy,
and Milford Garlic would have come
home from Algiers as sure as daylight.
But you were different, you see, and
other things were different also"
So it shall always be. There are
other men like Julian, and there is
Lady Garlic for every one.