The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-07-23

4
II we implied that he for a moment
thought seriously about breaking of
his engagement. Even had he wished,
his almost mistaken feelings of honor
would have forbidden it. This con-
start surface introspection-a kind OF
examination which, had not the sub
| ject been himself, he would have de-
spised and avoided-could have but
one result-an obliquity of mentalvi-
sion. Hehab a horror of beInguntrue-
untrue to himself as untrue to his lass,
and yet he dreaded causing pain to
bosom so tender and innocent.
When he sat down to write the period
ical letters to the girl to whom he
was engaged, he found his phrases be-
coming more and more general and
guarded. He took pains not to- let
her know what he felt must wound
her, and the lstters grew as unnatural
as they had been the reverse; they
were descriptive of the man rather
than the reflex of his personality.
The country girl was quick of per-
ception. The letters were more full of
endearine terms than ever; they were
longer and told more of his life; yet
between the lines she could see that
they were by one whose heart was not
at rest, and that sense of duty and
not OF pleasure prompted the ample
details. Their very regularity was
painful; 1T seemed as il the writer was
anxious to act up to the letter of his
understanding. She knew that the
letters were often written when he was
tired out. Why did he not put off
writing, and taking advantage of her
love, let her exercise her trust in him?
Eagerly she scanned the pages to find
the name of her rival, and having
found it, would thoughtfully weigh ev-
cry word of description, of blame or
p.aise.
When the lovers met, she question
ed him more closely than she lad ever
done before. Hewas seemingly as fond
as ever; no endearing name, no accus-
toned caress, was forgotten. Hespoke
| of himself and his friends as freely as
usual, and all her questions were an
swered without show of reserve. Yet
the answers were slower, and his man
ner absent and thoughtful. For q
time she put it down to the absorbing
nature OF his pursuits; but little by
little belief that she was no longer
dearest crept into her heart, and would
not be dislodged, try as she might
/ She thought she was jealous, and
struggled night and day against fault
she dreaded above all others; then in
q paroxysm of despair, she allowed
| herself to be convinced of what she
feared, and loving him deeply, prepared
| to make the greatest sacrifice an un
selfish woman can offer. He nc longer
loved her; it was best he should befree.
When he had been with her last, he
had told her that his ensuing absence
must perforce be longer than usual,
and this she thought would be the
best time for her purpose.
t'Dear Frank, she wrote at the end of
| pitiful little letter, II am going to ask you
not to come here next week. This will sur
prise you, for in all my other letters have
told you that what most looked forward
to in life is your visits. But have been
thinking, dear, that it will be best for us to
partforever. i often ask myself ifwelove one
another as much as we did, and am afraid
We do not. A loveless married life would
be too dreadful to live through, and dare
not risk it. 1t is better that the parting
should come through me. Do not fancy
that am reproaching you; / cannot, for
to me you are above reproach, above
blame. All feel is that your affection 10
colder, 70 we had better part. God bless
you, Frank; can never tell how deeply l
have loved you. ELSIE"
Frank was almost stunned by the
receipt of this letter. He read it and
re-read it till every word seemed burnt
into his brain. That the girls love
for him was less, he did not believe;
he could read undiminished affection
in the vague phraseology, in the stud
led carefulness to take equal blame on
herself. That she should be jealous,
was out of the question:; long years OF
experience had taught him that this
was totally foreign to her trustful ma
ture. There was but one conclusion
to come to. She had given him up be-
cause she thought his happiness in
volyed. Yet she wished him to be
free; might it not be ungracious to re-
| fuse to accept :1er gift2
Free! There was q terrible fascina-
tion in the sound. Be the bondage
ever so pleasant, be it ever preferable
| to liberty itself, the idea Of freedom is
| irresistibly allEring. If the same
bondage will be chosen again, there is
delight in the consciousness that it
win be your own nuntrammelled choice.
| Frank was aware of Wild exultation
when he realized the fact that he was
once more free agent. In the first
flush of liberty, poor Elsie imagefed-
ed out OF sight, and that OF the siren
took its place. Now, without wrong,
he might follow his inclinations. He
determined to write to Elsie, but knew
not what to say, and put it of till
| the morrow.
There could be no harm In going to
| the house of his fascinator; it was