The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-07-11

something would transmute It from subjective
70 objective possession
It was the day before her departure from
Sfonewall the second time. No word had been
spoken by Grosbeck. They met lie again
hred Goethe at her, this time 8 love song. He
became conscious at last that she was in love-
IN love with some one.
Likely as not some clever preacher, possibly
Metnodist or Presbyterian furnished with a
double bank of keys, one of whscn responded to
the touches o. religion, art and ethics with it's
treble tremolo. the other thrilling with ambgu-
Gus nasso tone. evolved by the solicitations Of
certain suscepuolitles toward Isongworth loaveS
and fishes" Rufus was no longer Indifferent.
but he was blind. sit was Just such a fellows
he thought. swho would wake up this sort of
woman" he spoke to her of the man she was
in love with when the intuition came to him
AS ne walked back with her he asked himself:
what if she did love hint What would it be-
to evolve the woman that was so smothered and
to watch the leading OF the ewig weibliehel The
query kindled something in him. He felt the
magnetism of this conectural passion at his side,
and many wayelets of emotion played upon him
as he walked
As they crossed the little bridge that arched the
little stream near the manse he boldly kissed
his new found divinity and asked her if she loved
him. Her voice sounded out clear and solemn,
as if before the altar and world OF Longworths,
Ido.'"
What. then. of the letter which Rufus Gros.
beck had with him. ''unsealed aud unads
This: You love me. Emelineq I have NOS
sought to win your love in our past pleasant
friendship. had not consciously lifted finger
to beckon you to me. had not cared to-
Now | do care l have lifted finger to-
beckon and to grasp. have seen the great sun
of your never before sun~filled soul rising under
my eyes, yelling out its pillows of radiance,
L have caught glimpse of what your natures
landscape, emerging from its twilight, would up-
roll to my vision, and a greedy, esthetic passion
II n111 oxTaln Int
Il do not love you, Emeline, but you love me.
An old. too-familiar passion OF research and aC-
QUESTION kindles beneath your beams. 1t would
never rest until it had hunted you to your last
and all the witnesses in the background, will
not move an inch!
Let tho past suffice
II take your long hands, Emeline, and fold
them over your heart They must be its shield.
60 your way and let me go miner
The letter was not sent.
Emeline departed.
Rufus kept aloof.
rs will keep" he says. And he thinks ''sos
will she-and /. 1t is foolisher to keep tinker.
ing at this mudde than to leave it alone until
see things more clearly"
1t is December, and Rufus Grosbeck has gona
to town.
1.-The western horizon gapes with crimson
wounds that drop their heavy ichor on the city
spires and dome, and redden city windows wherd-
the golden sun beats through; wounds that are.
not staunched till Venus throbbing. great and
tender, rises to bind them up with love. Ready
in the zenith waits the jealous little moon, lighty
ing up to some purpose, now that her mighty
rival has gone by"
1t is the Longworth mansion that GrosOeck
seeks and finds. s.
1.-THE sable Mercury wings his way aloft bear5
ing to the goddess the pasteboard in his hand.
AS to Emeline-"She knows now that her long
is to have an end"
Mr. Grosbeek is gay almost playful, as she en-
ters. Miss Longworth is cold. determinedf
naughty. Grosbeck is overwhelmed with COM
fusion, and at last in despair, be turns to gog
"Mr. GrosbecK," she called. He turned back
"Do you love me!" she asked. His answer was
her own to him-'I do" -
But it was long before either said good
night"
This is Miss Cleveland's novel.
What do you think of it9