Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1886-11-24

were pihdlDg her still more-fur-
tive, bitter tears, such as women often
weep, unknown to all the world. The
crowded street cars passed them every
minute or two, but Marie had refused
TO ride. This was the last time they
would ever walk together-the last of
many, many times. She could not
AFFORD TO shorten these few sad moments
OF parting and farewell. He had come
TO the choir that evening only to tell
them that he had been suddenly called
to Germany and must sail in the morn.
ing; but he had stayed and sang over
with Marie some of the old duets, and
now tsey were walking home together.
slowly, through all the storm, by the
way they had learned to know so well.
AT first few words were spoken
between them. Marie felt only the
thrills of unreasonlng love, the delight
of contact, the bliss OF this dual soli-
tude encircled by rain and storm and
darkness. To her it mattered little
what they said or where they went, so
that they were together; and to-mor-
row was pushed as far from her horizon
as If 1t were twenty years away. But
all the truth came back on her like
shock when Gustaye's voice said, gen.
tly:
II must thank You, Miss Pirot, fer
the Kindness you have given to me
always-to me, stranger: all these
pleasant walks and our music, together.
L shall often think of your lovely voice
when am far away"
1--WE have indeed had pleasant times"
she answered, bravely and clearly, after
moments pause. ''But why need
you go if you have been-happy-here?
All, you-you have not many regrets.
You are glad, 1 thiHk?"
Indeed l am glad," and glad his
face looked-excited and eager. ''It is
a grand opportunity now that offers.
You can understand, if one has been
planning long and waiting, that one
might be glad TO see fulfllment near"
Yes" said Marie. That one word
only, and in her voice was the huski.
ness that comes with tears.
'ih, well, see my way now clear"
he continued, gayly and brightly. AL
unconscious of the mute tragedy that
went on beside him, he poured out the
story of his disappointments in the past
of his plans and visions for the
future. Marie listened silently. 1t
seemed each moment that the tide
of her emotion must burst all bonds
and carry with it the fine reserve of her
nature, its womanly dignity and pride.
She called up all ber strength at last,
in a desperate effort.
II must leave you here" she SAID,
stopping suddenly at the corner of 4th
avenue. IL have some business to
dol will say goodnight and good
bye. hope you may have a pleasant
Journey"
but surely noti l cannot leave
you in this storm. Let me escort you
where you wish to go-so dark, and
such a Tainl''
81 have my own umbrella here"
5ne raised 1t as she spoke. 'Thank
you very, very much, but prefer to go
alone. And you know" smiling
strangely at him, 81 shall have TO 60
without your escort altogether after
this. You have been most kind"
She broke off suddenly, and busted her.
self with the fastening of her cloak,
then held out her hand. Goodbye"
she said, abruptly.
Goodbye, Miss Prot, if it must be
so-if you wish it."
''Oh, yes. Partings, think, should
never be prolonged. l hope you will
have good voyage. L hope you will
be always happy. Goodbye, Gustave. "
"Auf wiedersehen, auf wiedersehen,
my beautiful, kind friend. 1 will
write to you from the other side, and
some day we surely will meet again.
Do not forget me in the time between"
But Marie hand wrenched her hand
from his and was gone, a dark, hurry
ing shape, down the lighted, rain-swept
street.
'sMarieI''
Sydney Worth had come out Of the
opera after the second act, and having
buttoned his long rubber coat to the
chin, was scuddilg up 14th street in an
element-defying hnmor, when this word
burst from lis lips in tone of amaze
ment, Marie Prot had just passed
him on the crossing at 4th avenue: a
sudden backward tilt of her umbrella
had shown him her face plainly, pale
and strange, with that absorbed, unsee-
ing look that mental suffering gives.
Her swift step faltered an instant at
the sound OF his voice, and in an instant
he was by her side.
II knew could not be Mistaken"
he said, breathlessly: ''but you, of all
people, and at this hourI What in the
world brings you into this reglon2"
He is holding her hand in his warm,
friendly clasp, and looking down
searchingly at her haf-averted face.
.'Oh, was walking away from the
furies," she said. trying to speak
lightly, .'but they have come with me.
| think 1 really did not know where
| was going. only wanted to walk.
Did YOU ever have that feeling, Sydney,
that you were too unhappy to be quiet!''
sShe asks me if ever had that that
feelingl All, Marie, there are lew
feelings, born of unhappiness, that
I have not had. You ought TO know
that, my dear"
ssPut-but they pass away some tune,
don't theyP'' she asked, wlstfully.
People can't go on suftering.Sohe
change, some relief, must come"
81 don't know" he answered, Win
a long sigh. Perhaps. have not
found it, yet" ,
"Oh, Sydney" she said, passion
ately. with a wild burst of tears.
"Sydney. Sydneyl'' she land her Gheek
on his shoulder, sobbing like eniia.
By this time they had passed from
the gla,e e of Ath street and were FACING
uptown agal1. He had taken the um-
breIla from, her hand and hela IL Us
shelter BETWEEN them and passerS,py;;
Syduey,s kntosledge of suffering had
made him vel b tender toward TIE pam
of others. HE allowed his companion
to weep unqthstioned, patting gently
rom time to tlLe the little quiVerns
fingers that cluhhed his arm.
aHow good sou arelp she stam- ..nh
mered, whisperin,ly, at length. on'
SydneyI how coud you forgive mew
how could you eves look at me agat1n Il
I have made you suffer like tins,
never knew it could be so terrible, !
did not dream Of what you 1eiI Mnen
,rs parted; you were so noble anu 81