Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1884-09-10

! he said to John Lawrence one night
| but wish she was not so fond of plain
truths Fan is made to see faults in me
she never would find out by herself"
50 Plain truths =" answered John
spitefully 81 have always noticed that
these people who are so fond of plain
truths never feel called upon to tell
pleasant truths. have always refused to
meet the lady, VIII, because | like women
who are not above nice little hypocriSieS to
please us. But | declare woman who
proposes to accompany us into the woods,
and turn our private pleasure into pub
lie picnic, must be a character I'll go
home with you to-day and see her"
"Oh, John, thank you. | shan't feel so
helpless against Fan and her then. Poor
Fan! She hates the woods, and can't en-
dure dinner without entrees and dessert
yet this English woman has absolutely
persuaded her that she is looking dread
fully i'll, and that nothing but pure nat
ural life will save her from consumption"
To say that John Lawrence had No curl
oSity about Miss Atkinson would be false
He had heard all about her continually for
Il month she was always doing or saving
something which contradicted his ideas of
what woman ought to do or say; so that
going home with VIII was not committing
himself to any great act of self-denial.
1t was a lovely June evening, and Just
dusk, as they entered the parlors They
were empty, and they walked through
them on to n balcony latticed with vines
that overlooked the little plot of city gar
den. Miss Atkinson was standing in the
very center of small lawn. She was
quite unconscious of any observation, and
John stayed by an imperative motion Wills
| first movement to announce their APP
proach. "Let me look at her." he said, in
an agitated manner.
! As she stood there in the June twilight
she was worth looking at \ woman
about % years of age, of the most delicate
| type of English beauty. Her small, light
| figure was exquisitely robed in fawn-col-
ored silk and grenadine. She had pink
rose at her throat and another in her
hand, but, even as they looked at her, she
dropped it from her listless grasp. For 4
moment she regarded it pitifully, and then
there passed over her face an expression
of such hopeless sorrow or WEAKNESS that
VIII was quite startled, and turned to his
| friend:
now, does she? Why, John, what is the
matter? Do you know her?
a can not tell, Will Either I know
her, or have been dreaming about her for
eleven years, that's all"
Half an hour afterward they were sitting
side by side in the parlor. Every trace of
sensibility had left Elizabeth's face. That
womanly melancholy that had made her so
lovely in the twilight garden had quite
vanished. She was now only keen,
clever little woman.
But somehow John felt sure that she
had assumed character and was playing
up to it. "She is clever actress, and
enjoys interpreting her role; but why she
chooses to do so is question" And from
this evening forward John Lawrence fell as
completely under the spell of Elizabeth
Atkinson as Fanny had d0ne-with this
difference: Elizabeth soon became aware
that in this case her slave was also her
conqueror
VIII was disguised with the whole posi-
ton. He took a couple of servants and
set off for the Adirondacks without John,
who did not want to go fishing. He seemed,
indeed, to desire nothing but to idle away
the long summer days in Fanny's garden
or parlors Necessarily Elizabeth and he
were often left alone, and it was notice
able thing that after the first two weeks of
their acquaintance they found nothing to
dispute about in their interviews. Eliza
beth sat quietly rocking and pretending to
sew, and John watched her and pretended
to read.
Sometimes they glanced at each other,
sometimes they said a few words but John
was really gaining a silent victory Then
there would be days in which Elizabeth
rebelled against this growing power over
her, and at such times she resolutely re-
fused to leave her own room; but such
struggles only left her more weak and i'm
pressionable. John conquered by his
absence as surely as by his presence.
The first really hot weather had sent the
Danverses out to their country home-an
old stone house among great pine woods
and John spent most of his time with
them. But not one word of love did he
say during those charmed weeks of hot
summer-tide They wandered through the
pines, and played with the baby, and
sailed down the river in the cool morn
ings and the moonlight nights, and John
said nothing beyond the pleasant, courte
Gus words of an intimate acquaintance. In
those days Elizabeth was often very weary.
| must wear my mask" she thought she
| must not know how really weak and tender
| am. Once ah once. But what did
it bring me? Contempt. If women show
they have heart, they invite 4 be-
trayer."
1t was the last day of August, and Eliza
beth was to return to England early in
September 1t had been a still, hot, ex-
hausting day. Fanny had bad headache
John was in the city, and Elizabeth was
slowly walking her little namesake to
sleep in the darkening parlor. By-and
by John came home and sat down. Eliza
beth smiled family at him, and continued
her monotonous walk and lullaby. John
followed her every movement. Then the
child was asleep, and she was leaving the
room.
He stood before her, all his soul in his
face You will come back, Elizabeth?
want to speak to you"
1t was the first time he had ever called
her Elizabeth. She knew what he wanted
to say, and yet she answered, almost in
whisper | will come back"
He was awaiting her return with the
greatest Impotence. Now that he could
no longer withhold speech, he was eager
for his opportunity. He met her as she
entered, and drawing her passionately to-
ward him, said: "Oh, Elizabeth, you must
not leave me now. | have loved you,
darling, loved you and sought you, for
eleven years"
ooh, John, love you, too! But you
must know the truth; l have loved some
one else the greater part of those eleven
years-some one who basely won my child
ish heart, and then left me to such hope
less misery as makes me tremble yet to
think of. l was simple, loving, romantic
soul, and he thought it but a holiday to
take all the glory out of my life, and all
the trust out of my heart"
care you sure of that?'
"Quite sure. He left me in Rome one
lst of November; never saw him again,
and he never wrote me a line"
"He was killed three days afterward,
dearest, in pass of the Apennines. There
was long letter to you in his pocket, but
it was unfinished and had no address.
have it here. VIII you read it?'
" No, no. John; it is too late pw. You
knew Stephen~
. Gle was my dearest friend. We were
travelling together. l knew that he was
deeply in love with young English girl,
but he was very secret and jealous about
Al.