San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-07-08

CHAPTER XNNI
TIE SHADOW IN TIE HOUSE.
Thus it was that poor Annie returned to
her home and was received once again as
member of the little circle at st. GurlOtts.
y But things were sadly changed for her, poor
child; and sometimes as | watched her pa
tient endurance my heart rose in revolt and
| blamed myself for having been the means
of bringing her home again.
True, my uncle was glad to see her, and
treated her with uniform kindness; indeed,
he was never happy unless she was before
him, and Annie, noting this, was untiring in
her devotion 20 him. But with my aunt it
was another matter. She, who was usually
the kindeSt Of women, now became a dOmeS-
tic tyrant, and prlCticed toward her daugh-
ter species of cruelty which in another per-
son she would have been the first to de-
nOunce. She never let poor Annie rest, but
reprOached her increasingly about the trOub-
les she had brought about. the change she
had wrought in her poor father, and the hap
pinesS of the little home; and she never fail
ed to remind her that it was not until she
had been deserted by her unknown lOveI
that she had decided to return and admins
ter consolation to those whose hearts she had
broken.
All this Annie bore without a murmur at
was only her DUE she said; "hpr mother
was right; she had destroyed all their hap
piness, and she should be- made to suffer-
Nevertheless, it was hard for her to bear
and ] very often saw her with traces of tears
upon her cheek.
But when people have poverty before them
they cannot afford to cXaggCTate sentimental
troubles, and | soon came to the conclusion
that the best way to help Annie was to help
myScf-tO obtain a situation, in fact; and
thus by contributing weekly allowance. to
give things a better complexion at home As
all hope of obtaining employment in st. Cur
lofts was out Of the question. | turned my
attention TO other quarters. After many
heart-rcndng disappointment and endless
correspondence, | obtained a situation as
Overseer of a COpper-mine in Devon.
The situation was a suitable one in every
way, and promised to be lucrative. was to
leave home aud begin operations in a fort
night
/ was in the midst of my preparations half
happy in the thought of being able to inhabit
a part of the globe where my misfOrtuneS
could not find me out, when one day heard
a piece of news which killed at one blow all
my hopes of the future, and made my life
mere Dead Sea fruit.
A report spread over the village that
George Redruth was about to be married
forthwith to Madeline Graham.
How or through whom the report OTigi-
mated, no one could tell but its truth was
admitted on every hand.
The news stunned me at first then it drove
me mad; wild, mgOvernaDle jealousy took
possession of me. | could do nothing, think
of nothing now, save one thing-that the
woman l loved beyond everything in this
world was about to become the wife of an
other man, and that man my bitter enemy at
haart
1t was impossible to conceal my secret any
lOnger-they had but to look into my face
and read it. When Annie heard the news,
she cried bitterly; and |, blind as usual, be
lieved she cried out of sympathy for me.
at is shame, HughV she SAID, latter
having made you love her, that she should
vile away another man."
Don't say q word against Miss Graham"
l returned, ''fOr she is an angel"
"IsS, hold your peaceW cried my aunt.
"'Tis nawt to us, and why should you inter
fere? And, after all, It's better as it is. She
could never have wed wi Hugh; and no good
comes o. young folk dangling after one an
other when they can never COON together"
There was sound sense in my aunt'S words,
though at the time with the fieTcest Jealousy
and hatred raging in my heart against the
man who had supplanted me, ! could not
listen to them A few days reflection, how
ever, brought me TO better state of mind
showed me that | was a fool, and that the
news which had wrought such an astOund-
ing effect upon me was only what l might
have expected, if wild unwarrantable pas
sion had not made me blind. For, after all,
what was to Madeline?
During my bOyhood, had dared to love
her; but when we met again, i saw distinctly
that the episode which had been all in all to
me had passed completely from her mind. l
had had the good fortune to save her life,
and she, angel that she was had been CRATE
full; but now the debt had been repaid-in
exchange for her life, she had helped to save
mine. Having paid her debt, she had re-
moved herself irrevOeably from me.
As | thought of all this, | felt my heart
grow hard, and l cursed God, who, in his
benefcence, had sent me this one ray of
blessing. But why had it come at all? Why
had been shown the light at all, if was
doomed to be cast into darkness again for
the remainder of my life? With Madeline
Graham by my side, knew what my days
might be; without her, knew it would be
better for me to be lying at the bottom of the
sea.
had unused TINS walking up from the vii
lage one night, and now, standing at the cot
tage gate, looked across the marshes to-
ward the spot where so many months ago
had brough: Madeline TO shore.
As gazed, my eyes grew dim, and the inn
pulse came upon me to revisit once again the
spot where my darling had set her foot; so
struck off across the waste toward the lone
ly shore.
1t was fine bright moonlight night, clear
and still, though the shifting clouds in the
sky predicted storm. found the sea as calm
as q mill-pond, fringed with white where
the edge Tapped the stones upon the shore