The San Antonio light. (San Antonio, Tex.) 1883-1886, 1885-04-20


this lovely weather Is In his favor. His
lungs are delicate. and with 50 much
fever one always fears Inflammation;
hut we must hope II won't come to
that"
Her heart seemed to die withinhcr as
she stood In the golden sunlight. with
the bright unrloudcd morning sky above
her: hut the kindly old eyes looking in
10 hers saw no shadow of the pain there,
heard no infection of 1t IN the tones Of
her steady voice.
NO" she repeated. eve must hope il
VIII not come to that. You must take
great care"
I'VE cant let him owe his death 10
u.s." the doctor said. chccrily. turning
away; well take too much care for
that"
At his words sydney shivcrcd and
FELT cold through all the glory Of the
August sunshine.
Though after ALL "a shade of defiance
! In her thoughts ~ size made her way
/ back to the garden, II am not really I'M
easy. Why should hc; He only needs
care
But words did not Danish the shadow
| of anxiety.
But now the days were over. hadhccn
| lived through somehow; and on this
| SUNDAY evening In the long drawing
U l'''llls WIN INV W llVlN'NN 'lilNifl NEblllNl
/ possibly trcachCrous evening air. the
| lamps lighted. and miniature wood
! fire burning uu the wide. open hearth,
| Sydney sat IN old MIR. Lorliuc's great
/ armchair hy the Fireplace. Count Won
| IindenhCim on a low seat 10y her side.
| They were alone, Tor after dinner Mr..
Lorraine had slipped into his beloved
| library, and after a time the voices dis
| turbing him. he had closed the door of
a.
| were thus alone. they seemed tO have
| hut little to say, although the knowl-
| edge was theirs that tomorrow the
| parting so long postponed must take
| place.
81 would rather CO. Count Linden
! helm had said. 81 am not getting well;
am worried for ought to be at home
shall not get well here. And the doc
| tor had given a somewhat unwilling
consent for his departure, seeing the
! truth of his words.
So this was the last night. Sad. in Ms
far as it was the last. and yet to Sydney
there was. mingled with the sadness,
| feeling that his presence WAS an uneN-
| pectcd happiness, wrcstcd from fate
| itself
She had been restless and unhappy all
day Even the quiet services In the
village church had failed to calm her.
| The last time. even with u distinct and
definite knowledge of when and where
we shall meet again, is sad. How much
| more when terrible mist of uncertain
~ lies on the other side of the Good
bye" And in calmcr moments she did
not deceive herself. She was well aware
| of the nature of "a German hctrothal-
| that only the marriage service itself
could he held more binding. And know
ing 1t, there were moments when she
felt IL craven on her hcarl-that IN this
world. at least she and Esmc Won Lin
| denhpim would meet no more.
But this was not one of them. At
this moment past fears and future anX-
icty were alike swallowed up in "A bliss
fu.. happy present.
There was always something about
him that Calmcd her. His gentleness.
his tenderness sOOthcd and comfOrted
her; and this seemed magniiied tcnfOld
by the increased dclicacy of his appear
ance. lie himself was not 50 depressed
and unhappy us he had been when She
had seen Inn last. The consciousness
that he was no longer obliged To wait
hut was starting tomorrow. had per-
haps acted as a stimulant to his nerves;
and in his smiles and conversation she
felt the personal CHARM that had been
SO strong ut first. For. him il was the
day before the battle, and there was
something's the thrill of cOmingCXcite-
ment. Something. perhaps, in being
once more IN the presence of the wO-
man whose love he reed not doubt of
having won. 1t would he hard and
bitter fight, but she was worth it-Or so
it seemed to him rs he watched her in
the big arm chair. which was associated
in his memory with old Mr.. Lorraine.
She wore the same white dress that she
had done the night Of his arrival; its
folds fell softly and gracefully about
her, and in her hand was the fan OF
peacock's fcathlrs.
Are YOU really better" she asked,
suddenly, after u long silence, IN which
she had been watching him. Tell me
the truth; you are not quite well'-A
faint question in the toncs-"but you
are much better"
81 am not quite we'll" he repeated
sitting more upright, but am mucl
better, and shall he better still when
am back in Germany"
ayes" she said, softly, 81 hope So.
lie laid his hand on the feather :al
on her knee.
"Your hopes and wishes will do mt
good" he said, never fear" And then
suddenly wish you would get an
other fan" he went on. Il cannot bea
to see you carrying this one about will
YOU"
at is pretty" touching II caressingly
"and it has memories. 1t reminds IN
of many happy evenings. You told IN
, il was unlucky, You remember, the Hrs
time saw you"
"And you" he replied, said you di,
not fear the especial form of ill-luck
, might bring"
| aBut do" she cried, passionately
! rising to her feet. 81 am afraid of it
! am afraid to run any risks" mOyin
\ swiftly away, and placingit on adistan
table. There" returning to his side
81 will never touch it again"
= "What foolish woman you are" h
= said gently, as she stood once more b
: his side.
. 81 cannot help it, she cried, and whe
I he looked at her he saw there were tear
9 in her eyes. 81 care too much to i
I wise! / wish" she began abruptly
and then turned away, and stood wit
L her back to him, leaning against til
: mantelshelf.
4 "What do you wish" he questioned
r "Oh, | wish had seen her-that
> knew her-even what she is like"
! lie did not answer in words, but roS
and left the room, and few minute
9 later came. up to where she was sti
!, standing by the fire, and placed in h'
q hands small case.
Z She took il over to distant lamp, al
T there opened il. And when she la
done so, fair girls face looked franl
y ly out toward her, blueeyed and re,
Tipped, with ripping corn-cOlored hal
Il For some seconds she remained gain
.. ut it, with jealous, misty eyes, scannii