Omaha daily bee., 1885-09-09

i his first thought upon hearing the truth
should have been one of sorrow showed him
| that he had reached a depth of sel1shness
| and degradation which M love could excuse
or condone. He blushed for himself, and
| for the sake of his manhood strove until he
| regained composure. There was a strange
calm on his face when, once more, he drew
near Beatrice.
''Tell me ALL" he said, in a quiet voice.
mo, don't fear for me-" She glanced at him
inquiringly, "Tell me all; l can bear il /
can help you.n
She told him all. Told him without self
excuse without even exaggerating her hus-
bands sins against the world and against
her. She told him without claiming mercy
on account of what she had suffered; but
there was a pathos in her voice, an utter
hopelessness in her manner which told her
listener more than words could nave told
His heart ached as he thought of her; his
blood boiled as he thought of the villain who
had wrought this misery.
He heard her to the very end in silence.
Throughout her tale she had not spoken Of
her husband by any name; hot from the
| first Carruthers guessed who he was. As
she finished speaking he turned his pale face
to her. THE mans name is Hervey,n he
said.
Eyes. Do you Know himf'
II have seen him twice. As he spoke
| Carruthers involuntarily clenched his hands.
| There was q kind of savage satisfaction in
| thinking under what conditions he last saw
tho rogue. He wished he had struck even
harder. He frowned, and his mouth grew
hard and stern. Beatrice saw the facial
change.
"Do You blame me too much to forgive
me, Frankg' she asked, anxiously. He
looked at her with eyes as soft and tender as
O woman's.
"Blame youa Who am I to blame youl
What nave l to forgive! You nave all my
pity-all my sympathy. Again l offer you
such help as l can %give-such help as a
brother can give a sister. You will take
this from me, Beatrice2'
She placed her hand in his. eyes, 1 will
take it. 1t is more than l deserve. All,
mel why should my trouble enter into your
lifer'
His fingers frightened On hers. His eyes
sought hers. Beatrice" he said, 81 did
not live until 1 knew you. You have a right
to claim all l can give. Yet there is some
thing L must ask-something | must know.
You have told me much-will you tell me
allF'
"Ihave told you ALL"
'No, not all. Beatrice, life promises to be
but a sorry affair for me. Let me have such
cold consolation as it can give. Beatrice,
let me hear you say with your own lips that
had things been otherwise you could have
loved me-would have been my wife,"
She met his eyes bravely. "Yes, Frank"
she said softly. 81 will say that. 1 will say
more. 1 love you now. All, Frank, re-
proach me, blame me, when l tell you that
although l knew it meant u%nhappiness for
YOU it was q sweet moment to me when first
l knew that you loved me-"
After this avowal there was silence for a
minute. Then Carruthers leaned forward.
''Beatrice, my love-" he said hoarsely, "kiss
ME once. l only ask it once"
She flushed to the roots Of her hair, yet
she made no resistance. Carruthers drew
her to him and for the first, and, for all
he knew, the last time their lips met. He
took, she gave, the one kiss. When it was
over Carruthers released her from his en-
brace and the two drew apart.
Here, no doubt, Mr.. Carruthers will sink
Immensely in public esteem. He acted as a
hero is never supposed to act, or at least in
fiction. He lost an opportunity. Every one
who has studied the nature Of true love as
depicted by the modern passionate writers
and skilled ANALYSTS of the human heart
must feel that Mr.. Carruthers should have
then and there clasped Beatrice to his heart
and have sworn that love overruled every
thing. He should have followed that one
modest kiss by thousands. He should have
said, "What is the marriage tie when two
souls are in such ecstatic communion as
yours and miner He should have said,
''There are other lands. Lands where no
one knows us, where life may be a perpetual
dream of love. Let us fly there and be
blessed In the mad whirl of his passion such
scruples as she, for appearance sake, urged
should have been swept away, and, married
or unmarried, he should have borne her off.
his forever and ever! Yes, he lost such an
opportunity that his conduct must be apollo
gized forl