The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1886-06-03

own most unwOnted emotional weak
ness had already dried the tears.
They do not need as much of you as
you have been giving this girl, retorted
DIR. May pointing to the bed. 1T is
wrong. You lavish yourself. You can't
expect to hold out at this rate"
She dropped her eyes, abashed. The
conventional barriers were annulled be-
tween them. They were workers amid
the dread realities of life and death
They stood together in an atmosphere
where there could be no resentment at
the directness of his speech.
Lizzie depends ON me So" she muir
INJURED in extenuation. '.And-I have
been sorry for her"
After the words were uttered she
would have given much to recall them.
Lizzie's history with man.
wholly unworthy-was common pro-
perty.
There were elements in it that brought
back Mrs. Rameaux's own tragic exper-
! ience.
She shrank-with a sensitive flushing
of all her face-from any allusion that
might seem to bear upon that chapter
of her life in which all her youth had
been bruised and trodden upon.
What else could she do with life in
which the dreams of perfect love and faith
had been shattered, shivering, with
brutal thrust to the ground, but dedicate
it to the unpersonal service of human
| ity, wherever it had known misery and
I suffering like unto hers2 The purity.
| the remuneration of her aim would throw
a sanctificatlon over that dark, brief
| period, from which the sinned against
had oaa,oad tr ioona NTH cou,a ~ bo
blight of the SHINING upon her shrinking
soul.
| May God give him rest! Mrs. Rame-
! aux had only an awed sense of pity
before the memory of her husband
now.
As Lizzie approached convalescence,
the fever. by sudden impetus, seemed
to reach-a fearful elimination. In ten
days the deaths aggregated an average
greater than that of weeks previously.
RestP There was no rest for doctors
or nurses now. They walked, day and
night, in the valley of the shadow.
Then, as suddenly, and by freak as
inexplicable, the cases abated. The
power and fury of the disease had spent
themselves. There was as though a
| great hull.
Mrs Rameaux had stepped one night
| to the door. The wind was soft and
humid, and there was vague stirring
of spring in the air.
Ragged tatters of dark streak-like
clouds swept the faint disc of the moon;
| and above the watchers head the bare
trees clashed together with q rasping of
dry branches.
Mrs Rameaux closed her eyes and
| drew long breath.
When she looked up DIR. May was
coming through the lighted hall towards
the door.
He was pale, and she noticed at once
drawn look about his eyes that she
had never seen before.
He stopped near her.
"Will you rest nowP" he said. you
may. The worst is over And-Lizzie
is nearly we'll"
He smiled, and the faint color came
| into Mrs. Rameaux' s cheek.
You have more need to rest than l."
she said You look ILL.,"
DO I?''
He still fingered opposite her. He did
not seem to attach any Importance to
her words. The breath of the night
wind brushed softly in between them.
He put his hand abruptly into the
| pocket of his inner coat. The object
he drew out was very small and dark.
Il saw these to-day, driving through
the woods. They are wonderfully early
comerS for our cold cline. You may
like them as pledge that spring is up
on us, and with it, | trust, hope"
His voice had dropped very low as he
spoke. Mrs. Rameaux held out her
hand, and in it he laid two frail wild vio-
lets. She caught them, with a rapid,
sensitive motion, to her face.
.'Oh, like them-l like themi Thank
you"
And then she turned and left him.
DIR. May got into his buggy and drove
slowly away
There was a strange tumult in his
veins. 1t was as though he could feel
the throb of the spring in all this hush
ed awakening nature.
His path led him by way of the woods
| again. Through the naked interlacing
boughs above him the moonlight, white
and watery, filtered in %hostly CLEANS
Fainsintangible perfumes of stirring
seed-life haunted the air. He seemed
to breathe the very soul of the night
A desperate joy that life was still his,
to feel, to enjoy, seized him. Nature,
long suppressed by the chill charnel-
house atmosphere of death, asserted it.
self with mighty rebound. He sudden
ly drew his horse with sharp tighten
ing of the muscles.
There was a reason for this throb and
rush of blood through his arteries. And
he had found it in the phantom Of wo-
mans face, sweet and pale as white
camellia bud, and framed in black, that
had risen and tioated before him, lumin-
Gus as vision wrought from the beams
of the moon.
He found all his patients doing well.
He drove back rapidly. The whole night
seemed full of her presence.
He had not hoped to see her again.
But as he went in she was crossing the
hall. She held some bandages in her
hands and her sleeves were drawn up
| from her delicate wrists and the waxen
| curve of her arms.
In her dress he saw the two wood-vio-
lets. A silver bar of moonlight crept in
through the high curtainless window
and seemed to lmprison her as she turn
ed towards him with half smile.
The fever in his veins burned more
fiercely. Never had there been such
night as this! They two were alone on
the face of the earth.
With his eyes on hers, drawing nearer
to her, he spoke at once.
Il love you," he said-"I love you. /
know it now to the full. You are the
one woman, and we were meant one for
the other"
White to the lips, she started from
him.
you are i'll! Raving! You don't
know what you are saying!"
He caught her by the hand with a
fierce gesture.
do not speak in that way. What L
say is as life and death to me-"
She drew herself up to her full height,
trembling in every limb.
Then you should know that what
you speak of is dead and buried for mel
A gulf separates me from any such ex-
perience again on this earthn'
The sunlight this morning had forced
itself through the curtains with a par
ticular triumphant insistance. 1t lay, a