The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1884-06-03


saw Harry bend his head to kiss the
beautiful hand he was holding, and she
heard his low murmur, eff l had only
known You years ago, things might have
been so different" !" On, on, till her own
door closed behind her, and she gazed
wildly round at the pretty ornaments
that strewed her bower, as if she had
never seen them before She flung the
diamonds from her throat and wrists as
if they hurt her, and sank into chair
beside the quaint old ebony table, leaning
her head with its tangle of crisp brown
hair down on her folded arms She did
not shed tear. but her brain seemed on
fire. Beside her stood the tall vase of
rushes that Harry and she had gathered
from the lake only yesterday. Wasn't it
one hundred years ago?
"Never another sorrow could he guard
| her from %
! Well, it was true; he couldn't help
this; it wasn't his fault; he had meant
to do right he had married her " out of
/ pity when he loved another woman 1t
must be her own fault, not his; yes, be-
cause she was pink -and-white and nothing
more and she was not tall and stately
aud talented, and she ought to have
known pity wasn't love, only it had
seemed so like it
If he had known years ago things
might have been so different" Might
they no, still p? What if she were to go
away that very night and not trouble
him again? She had not a friend in the
world except her old Brighton school
mistress; she would go to her and beg
hcr to take her in and let her teach the
little children. And perhaps she might
die soon, and Harry conld be happy with
the woman he had always loved. Nesta
felt as If death wouldn't be long in COM
ing, she felt so i'll now
She got up to fetch a timetable. Yes,
the mail train passed through Middle
hampton at | o'clock it was only II
now, aud though she couldn't very well
understand the puzzling figures, she
thought it must stop at the little station
Just the other side of the park
She drew her blottlng book to her and
l"@an To write fas;. a big tear or two
srlashed down on the paper, but she
wiped them patiently away 1t must be
clear. that Harry might read it.
"Thcy say you only married me from
pity" she wrote. | might have guessed
it, my darling, but you We're so good to
me that | never, ucver did. can't make
You free again, but it is better for us
never to see each other any more, and
perhaps may die, and You can go back
to the woman they say You have always
loved. | saw You just now when you
kissed her hand and said things might
have been SO different ii you had seen her
years ago. Yes. they would have been
different for us ALL God bless you, my
poor, good boy you were not to blame"
She paused and looked up.
"What shall sign il 2" she said 81
am not his wife amy more, for only love
really makes a marriage
Her eye fell on her little wedding ring,
It's brightness scarcely tarni>hed vet. She
stopped and pressed her lips to it gently
solcnnly.
"Oh, Harry-my Harry she whis.
pered eff it had only been love-not
pity!'
She rose and slipped off the golden
satin gown and put on a dark warm dress
instead
must even go away from him in the
things he gave me" she said, az she fas-
tened her long cloak with its silver clasps
Il haven't a single gown that was mine
when | knew him. He has even dressed
me out of charity. His pity has been
more generous than other peoples love-
She opened the French window in hel
dressing room and stepped out on the
balcony, whence flight of steps led
down to the terrace below She glanced
back at the pretty room, with its Japan
csc cabinets and blue and white china,
and the ebony table, where the letter to
Harry lay, with the light full upon it, so
that he could not miss it, Then she shut
the easement sharply behind her and reso-
lutely turned away.
The moon was bright with fitful
ghtness-now almost as light as day,
now hidden behind hurrying clouds-that
it was bitterly cold. Nesta drew her
cloak tighter around her, and tried to
walk fast, but she was desperately weary
and could only stumble along. Somehow
the way to the little gate had never
seemed so incomprehensibly long. Surely
she could not have missed her way?
The moon and the clouds were playing
such pranks that one could not be- sure,
and her heart had .,vn too full to notice
all the turns 1t was as black az Erebns
nova darkness that might be felt.
Ncsta took few steps forward, then
stopped short, by some mysterious in
stinct Just as the moon shone ont clear
and bright once more it's golden sparkle
reflected, as by thousand broken mir
rors, in the water of the lake which slum-
bered at her feet. A strange, sharp pain
shot through her heart as she saw the
very rushes Harry and she had been
gathering yesterday. Yesterday? A
thousand years ago, when she was happy
A wild thought flashed across her
brain she had wished to die; would it
not be better for Harry and herself yes,
and for that other woman, too, if she
were lying under those cold, smiling wa
ters in dreamess sleep? 1t was only
moment; her soul was too white and too
brave for more She recoled with q
start of horror; but, all the bank was
worn and smooth, her little feet slipped
on the edge; she drew out her hands to
stop herself, but the frozen grass slid
through her fingers. There was one
short, sharp cry, and pale, sweet face
lay still among the rushes in the silent
moonlight.
1t was dark aud warm and deliciously
restful when she knew anything again.
She heard Harry's low voice before she
ever opened her eyes, and felt his clasp
| l.. Lo,,I Ho-rv3s booJ <.loer