San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-08-10
This story was commenced July 2Ol
copyrighted. AH Rights ReSerUed.)
OF MANY MOODS.
BY BONA.

Great, blue butterflies ny ABOUT ner neao.
A bit of golden rod frees itself from her
gown and falls into the spring; it floats
about awhile, then sinks. as though weighed
down by its own gold. But Eleanor has not
ended her walk yet though from the sun one
would say midday was well advanced. She
turns into little path and TricO bounds on
before. Suddenly bend brings her out from
among the trees and she stands amazed, for
before her, half hidden by tail, oak trees
and clambering vines, lies an old brick
house. Large and spacious ii is, and the
broad grounds which surround il are en-
closed by an old time stone wall, with some
of the gray rocks loosened and some gone.
Moss grows upon the top, and through the
creyiceS bright thistleS and wild rOSe-budS
peep their heads. Back of this old, quaint
mansion, just little behind it, is tiny
chapel, and though it is not Sunday the
bells are ringing. You can just hear them;
low and sweet are they.
Everything is so peaceful, so still, that one
might fancy they had Glanced upon en-
chanted ground. Eleanor stands quite still,
and TricO forgets to bark.
She wonders what it is, but she does not
think of entering that old stone gate, about
which the fearless robins have made their
nests, but she sits down on a fallen log and
opens her sketch book; this fair scene shall
be hers. So with a few skillful, rapid
strokes she transfers the old, ivied house,
ed grounds, To her book. Then she rises TO
go. IL will ask Joe about it this evening""
she thinks when we go to drive we will
come this way" Then, with a last look, she
turns TO go.
Before she reaches the "Grand" she is
sorely tired. Trico is tired, too; his tail
hangs dejectedly between his legs, he has
not even the energy to pursue gaudy,
striped lizard that ruStleS across the path;
and 50 they go on together Dinner is ready
when they reach the hotel. Eleanor has
but time 10 bind up her golden locks; so,
much against her husbands will she goes
down in the shabby little black dress. But
indeed, who is there to see them?
The dOgcart will be ready at six, Flea
nor, says Joe, over his watery soup. DO
be ready If you can"
Il will be. Joe, had such a nice walk
to-day. ! want you to drive over that way
this evening, Tor there is an odd, old house;
perhaps you can tell me what it is.
Dinner passes off well enough, only Joe
drinks a lrltle, just a tritle, too much wine
but his vile has learned better than to re-
mOnstrate with him for this, and merely
watches him with something. very like CON
tempt SHINING in her eyes. And after din
ner is over they 90 up stairs and get ready
for the drive. 1t Is quite a respectable turn
out which Joe has hunted up, tiny dog
cart drawn by spirited bay; too spirited,
indeed, to suit Mrs. Aliens taste.
Does he not look very skittish, JOeY she
says, standing hesitatngly before IL and re.
to steady her husbands hand. II am rather
good Judge of horses, and to me he looks
tricky"
Nonsense. Get in, don't be all night"
So she gets in, for after all no doubt he
knows best They drive off, followed by the
admiring glances of mine host and his strug-
Cling guests who have planted themselves
on the nOrch tn view the exit
Joe is in high good humor at having gained
his point. See" he cries, "he goes as
gentle as lamb"
II see he does, but do not like his looks
yet Turn this way, joe"
He takes the way she wishes, and present
ly she espies with Joy the old brick house.
There Joe, what is it, do you knowT
"Yes, it's convent" returns her husband,
''at least don't believe they call it that,
but il one would call spade a spade that is
the proper name for it. A high church af-
fair, but in my opinion quite as good as the
real thing"
"How quiet it looks" says Eleanor. gaz-
ing with strangely interested eyes at the
peaceful scene. II should think one would
be happy there"
ITS quiet enough, I'll warrant you, but as
to happiness Pm not so sure. After all, it's
only piOus form of seltishneSs."
He turns his horses head and drives
swiftly on. They come to a stone bridge,
and Allen slackens the pace a little that
they may cross. And then, ali! then, from
out the glade, little deeming the mischief it
will work, there springs pretty, frightened
deer, and the bay gives one wild, frightened
snort and dashes on. They reach the
bridge; there is sudden, fearful crash,
Eleanor feels whirring IN her head and,
wondering vaguely if this is death, knows no
more.
But she opens her eyes presently, and finds
that but for a strange dizziness and few
bruises she is quite unhurt. Before her lies
the ruins of the smart little dOg-ca but OF
the bay and Allen there is nothing to be
seen. She rises and walks unsteadily to the
other side and then stops suddenly, while
all trace of color PUSHES from her face, leav-
ing her white as the dead, for before her,
lying half across the bridge, is her husband!
There is no mark of injury upon him, but
the ashy pallor of his face territieS her. She
kneels down by him and clasps his poor,
pale hands, and brings water from the
stream to put upon his brow, and presently
the grey eyes open and stare with terrible
intentness up to hers.
"Oh, Joe, are you much hurt? what can l
do for your she cries.
"Nothing--the wheels went over me. l.
am dying"
ION, no, it cannot be! Let me go and
call someone. Let me get some help for
But he puts out feeble, OBTAINING hand to
stop her. "Stay with me"
So she kneels down by him again and puts
her arms about him and lays his face 10 his.
''Oh Joe, my dear, let me 20 and l can help
you yet"
But he shakes his head. do not-leave-
me. tell yOu-it-is no use"
Then she calls aloud for help, but only
echo answers. The dying man speaks again
speaks with effort
tits better-as it's, for now-yOu will
-not-dislike me-any more, Only-I-
would like-to say that-that il we-could
begin-again, think wOuld-be better"
''Oh, my dear" she cries, bursting into q
passion of tears, ut was all my fault; |
should have been better wife, Joe, but oh
my dearest forgive me nOwp
He puts out his hand and lets it rest upon
her soft bright hair. MY life has been all
a mistake" he says, his voice for moment
gaining power. "All mistake; it is better
as it is. l." And this parting strength
leaves him, and over the grey-blue eyes there
comes a blur, his hand falls YEARLY from her
hair, and from his sight Gods glorious sun
light fades forever!
And so this man on whom Gods best
gifts had been lavished, who has had no en-
envy but himself, this man who has found
life mistake and is weary OF it, "paSSed TO
where beyond these voices there is rest"
CHAPTER XVII.
Here and sorrows sit,
This is my throne, come bow to it."
King John.
After all she is very brave, and does not
cry out, go into Mysteries, or do any of the