The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-04-11

confidence. am afraid you will find
 it dull"
 "l am going to meet Mrs. Marshall
 and her cousin," he would reply care
 lessly, without explaining that her cousin
 was Sydonie Marvel.
 The inevitable result was delayed by
 the general rush from London in the
 month of August but the delay did noth-
 ing to open Leonard's eyes to the peril
 of his position {; it only proved to him how
 absolutely necessary Sydonie's sympathy
 and Sydonie's society were to his life. He rushed back to London on some
 frivolous pretext, and then hurried to
 Devonshire, where he heard she was
 sketching. He would only stay a day
 with her before he returned to the north
 all the vague jealousies and uncertainties
 which had haunted him before having
 become living realities since he had seen
 Bowles, the landscape painter, in con-
 stant and welcome attendance upon her and her cousin. His jealousy was irri-
 tated and kept alive by his consciousness that he absolutely had no right to the } feeling which yet served to bring Sydonie
 perpetually to his mind When he met
 her in October he was indignant because she spoke enthusiastically of her holiday , She enjoyed the tribute involved in the
 dark looks and deprecatory words with j which he answered her outbursts of de light about Devonshire and it's beauties
 but as time went on she began to be alarmed at the evident strength of his
 feelings, and decided to bring matters to crisis. She was wanting neither in sense or generosity, although her vanity
 had for time prevented her from deriv- ing any benefit from either quality, and |. she was resolved to bring to an end a
 complication which threatened to be
 come painful and compromising. The
 conclusion was not, however, according !, to her programme. It was one Novem-
 Der evening as they were chatting to-
 gether, that she suddenly rose and said : to him, without any warning:
 Now, MT. Dalzell, you are to go, il
 you please. l never get any work done
 while you are here, and besides" He stood up in his turn, and spoke in solemn answer to her flippant words: "So you are going to send me away again2 You did it once betore-do you 1. remember? Have we not both had cause l CuOd6h " ASSACk tAdt buC pIOCCSS HluSl
 be repeatedly
 She did not answer her face turned
 winter than its wont, and her hands
 tremb,cd little.
 "Sydonie," he went on, forgetful oi , everything but the woman before him
 "you know you loved me then-you
 know you love me now-just as have never loved, and never shall love, any
 woman but you"
 The silence which fell upon them was very hard to break. If life be regarded ) as drama, there are moments when the
 actors must long for curtain to fall and bring their scene to a creditable close r Both the man and woman felt that credit , far from them as they stood together in that accusing silence.
 "Go," she said at last; "go at once
 l will write to you tomorrow"
 He obeyed her, and went out into the ! darkness.
 } 1t was the next evening when he was al
 dinner with his wife that the letter was handed to him, but it was not until Bea. trice had been long in bed and asleeI ; that he opened 1t as he sat by the fire in his study. What he had hoped or feared he hardly knew, but the letter was one tc . quicken his serse of shame and his de. l slre for better things.
 ? "l might dare much to remain youl , friend" wrote Sydonie-" the islander o
 the world and even my own accusing , conscience. would bear both one and the other if felt that l made your life a brighter and happier one by allowing you to come and see me-by giving you ) that sympathy and help which you seem to need so sorely. But thsre are other considerations which must outweigh even : my yearning to fulfill in part all that once hoped to be to you. In this un. happy affair of your marriage there i: only one really innocent actor. l, by my impulsive letter, you, by your equally i'm. l pulsive engagement, have both deserved } to suffer-although not so deeply as we 5 suffer now but your wife has absolutely nothing with which to reproach herself f The more l am convinced of the truth oi your statement that you do not love her r that you never have loved her. and dc believe 1t absolutely--the more urgently do feel that we both owe her a terrible debt, and that we must spare her at any cost of additional suffering to ourselves 5 For that reason l bid you go away for a , time, and keep away from me until you feel that you can look upon me as whal , l am and always shall be till death-you, ] friend. S.M."
 As he finished the letter he groaned } aloud. Every word he read seemed to , prove the worth of the woman he had lost, and to show the generosity and beauty of her soul. It never occurred to him that the very opportunity for gener. , osity may be proof that its finer forms are lacking, or that one woman could wish for no sweeter vengenance upon another than thus to plead her successful rivals claim to pity and forbearance.
 CHAPTER III-
 . When Leonard stated his suddenly formed determination of a solitary three , weeks walking tour in Yorkshire, he was careful to suggest to his wife that she , should have her sister with her for a few days, as he was afraid she might be |. Inn Alu huf che aneu,ara1 k:.. :.