The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1885-07-08

te5 nave ptlsuaded nlm TO 20 to
ped; II Is much wiser, Come,s taking
slle giIl hand IN bis, You must come
uoMn TO dInner with me instead"
rs he ilIs' She questioned.
lie was shiverlng and miserable: il
Is always better to take care
Don you think he looks very deli
cates she asked when they sat doyvn--
they TWO alone together as thev had
done SO often; and yet Tonight the
him. "Asnous
Yes. | should saw he was sna H.
should be careful, for his mother diad
OF consumption. From what he tells
me- he has been very i'll himself. And
under the circumstances. a plunge into
cold river at sunset. and a long wall
afterward IN wet clothes, is not likely
10 do him any good. So | ordered what
| thought was best
Sydney did not immediately reply
She clasped her hands tightly together
with a momentary pain at her heart
and then: ~itwas very wise and thOurhf,
ful. father" she said. 1T is always bet
ter 10 take too much care than too lit
tles
Dinner over. she returned at once mn
stairs. She felt restless and i'll ut ease:
and leaving her father in the library.
when she had seen him established az
his writing-table, she opened the door
of communication. and passing through
entered the drawing-room. 1t seemed
to her that in this long. empty apart
ment. with no one to speak To her or
watch her, she could bring herself back
to calm.
The only light fell from a shaded
lamp at the further end of the room. in
the corner where stood the piano, but
having closed the door behind her, she
became Immediately aware that she was
not alone, as she had expected to be-
that a man S figure Stoof>aby the open
window, looking down ON to the dusky
garden.
Count Lindenheim." she spoke very
low. but he heard her, and turned his
head at once.
you are here" he said quickly. Il
wait for you. l wish much 10 speak
to YOU
@But it is very foolish;' her voice was
still soft and low, and she moved a few
steps nearer 10 him; ~and you are stand
ing by the open window. How unwise'
Come away. please
She went on into the corner by the
piano, and seating herself at it, pointed
to low chair beside her.
SIT down" she said, in tones more
like her usual voice. then YOU cannot
deceive me. l can judge for myself
how foolish you are"
NO, do not wish to deceive you,~ he
answered. Il have caught cold, am
certain. but that we can speak of after
ward. First, there is something else. L
wished to say 1t TO you this afternoon,
and then"
Yes" she said softly, tell me now"
She was no longer excited. The hands
that held the peacock 5 feathers did not
trenble, only her eyes did not meet his.
Il, he began. He stopped abruptly,
then rose up and took few steps and
back again. until he stood behind her
chair, and there again paused, and rest
ed his hands on the back, as il to steady
himself. Il don't know why have not
told you before" ne began; 1T has not
been from any wish to keep it to myself,
butt am engaged"
The empty room seemed to echo the
words. hold them. and repeat them for
full moments breathless silence. A
moment, whilst the hold on her fan
looSened, and she clasped her hands
tightly together, and then she spoke.
All the softness had gone out of her
gray eyes. her voice even had grown
hard and defiant.
And why should You tell me nowg
\ man is not called upon to confess his
Y on ask-but you know. Look at
me, and tell me it is So"
Almost inyoluntarily she turned her
head, and looked up at him; but having
done so steadily, her eyes wavered lit
tie from those above her. You must
go" then she said abruptly. but still not
lifting her eyes TO his. 1t was never
fault of Sydney Loraine's to avoid a
difficulty; it was almost impossible for
her To ignore it, even when perhaps
more worldly wisdom would have been
displayed in slNirting it by, you have
been here long enough. You must re-
turn"-there was seconds pause-~to
the woman you love"
"Ah, but the words came quickly
and passionately, "the woman love is
here"
"You will not think so when you are
at home again; you will soon forget. A
fortnight" bitterly, lis not much out of
mans life"
IF YOU think that-do you?-yes," as
she did not speak. why should you not?
then there seems nothing more to
say"
lie took his hands off the back of her
chair, and moved away to the window,
where he had been standing when she
entered, and there threw himself down
into a chair, covering h& face with his
hands.
She watched him, still in silence. and
noted, as the dim uncertain twilight
fell upon him, how i'll and haggard he
looked, noted also how thin the hands
were in which he had hidden his face.
Il do not think it," she cried, quickly
and impetuously, following him and
standing by his side; Il am cruel"
Then, as he still did not move, of a sud
den she knelt down by his side in soft
abandonment, and laid her hand on his
arm. Il am cruel" she repeated, but
it is because / am hurt myself, and"
her voice faltering, you know it, you
know it."
AT the touch on his arm, at the sound
of the soft voice, from which had died
out alike the hardness and the defiance,
Count Lindenheim lifted his bent head,
and then laid his hand caressingly on
the one which lay upon his coat-aeeve.
All" she cried, anxiously. show fever
ish you arel-your hands are burning.
Father said you were i'll. How wrong
OF you not to take more care!"
on are good to care" he answered.
His words seemed to recall her TO her
self. She rose to her feet, standing be-
side him tall and slender.
Il care a great deal, she said gravely,
$50 much that | will not listen to the
story tonight, but viii wait to hear it
until you are quite strong and rested
after a nights sleep. But" swiftly,
you will tell me tomorrow"
Il Will tell you now,' he answered,
rising also. ~Give me your hand. Do
you believe that it was from no wish TO
hide anything that did not tell you be-
fore?"
She did not answer in words, but
neither did she take her hand from his.
This afternoon" he went on, Il made
up my mind to go, and then" He
hesitated. Il thought at first need say
nothing-that l would go, and that I
was the only one who need suffer"
But this afternoon" she interposed,
syou thought that | should suffer too
is it not so?-and therefore you made
up your mind to tell me. 1t was better,
kinder she added slowly, clasping both
hands about his. at is foolish, wrong
perhaps, to say so, but do not reproach
yourself; never shall. Evenif you go,
and never see you again, / shall re-
member how happy | have been. | did
not understand it before, but now do.
/ understood 1t, / think, this afternoon,
and now1-the steady voice faltered-
NOW / have only to learn how TO live
without you"
He turned away. drawing his hands
from hers. and sat down again, his eyes
turned toward the dark, silent garden.
Il can say nothing g'-and his voice
sounded hoarse and difficult; but if |
regain my freedom, may / come back?"
She clasped and unciasped her hands,
as if she were in pain, and it was mo-
ment before she spoke.
Perhaps it would be better not to
think of it." she answered. 1T has been
a mistake. There viii be difficulties and
main ANYWAY Ii will / dare say come
right for you" And then. breaking
off. and her tones growing quick and
passionate. Il cannot say it. cannot"