Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1886-10-27


above blame. All I see is that your affec-
ton is colder, so we had better part. God
bless you, Frank l can never tell you how
deeply have loved you.
ssELsIE."
Frank was almost stunned by the receipt
of this letter. He read and reread it till
every word seemed to burn into his brain.
That the girls love for him was less he did
not believe he could read undiminshed
affection in the vague phroseology, in the
studied carefulness to take equal blame on
herself. That she should be jealous was out
Of the question Long years of experience
had taught him that this was totally foreign
to her trustful nature. There was but one
conclusion to come to. She had given him
up because she thought his happiness was
involved. Yet she wished him to be free !:
might it not be ungracious to refuse to ac-
cept her gift?
Free There was a terrible fascination in
the sound. Be the bondage ever so pleas
ant, be it preferable to liberty itself, the
idea of freedom is irresistibly alluring. If
the same bondage will be chosen again,
there is delight in the consciousness that
it will be your own untrammeled choice
Frank was aware of a wild exultation when
he realized the fact that he was once more
free agent. In the first flush of liberty
poor Elsie's image faded out Of sight and
that of the siren took it's place. Now,
without wrong, he might follow his inclina-
tions. He determined to write to Elsie,
but knew not what to say and put it off till
the morrow.
There could be no harm in going to the
house of his fascinator; it was pleasant to
think that he might speak, think, look
without any mental reservations. There
would be no longer any need to watch his
actions or to force back the words which
would tell her that she exercised deadly
power over him. The girl received him
with winning smile, yet when he touched
her hand he did not feel his brain throb nor
his blood rush madly through his veins as
he had expected. He called to mind that
when he was abroad for the first time he
had been served with a peculiar dish, which
he remembered and often longed for when
unattainable. After several years be visit
ed the same cafe and ordered the same dish.
The same cook prepared it, but the taste
was not the same; expectation had height
ened the flavor, and the real was inferior to
the IDEAL
So it was with Frank. Before, when the
siren had seemed unattainable, he had
Ill uCI duulI6u uoT SIdCt
and genius and reveled in her wit; now,
when he felt that he might call her his
own, his eyes began to detect deficiencies
The girl noticed his critical attitude, and
chafed at the calmness of his keen, watch
full glance. Where was the open admir-
alton she used to read in his eyes9 Piqued
at his Indifference she grew silent and irri-
table; and when he bade her farewell both
were conscious that an ideal had been shat
tered.
He buttoned his overcoat, and prepared
for a long walk to the lonely chambers
where he lived the usual careless, comfort
less life of bachelor whose purse is limi-
| ted. All the way home he submitted him
| self to deep and critical examination. He
| felt as if he were sitting by the ashes of a
| falling fire which he had no means of re-
plenishing; the night was coming, and he
must sit in the cold. If passion died out,
where was he to look for sympathy, the re-
spect, the true friendliness which alone can
supply it's place in married life? Then he
| thought of Elsie. He had made mistake,
| but q very common mistake. He had
| thought that the excitement of his interest,
| the enchanting of his fancy and the en-
thralment Of his senses was love, and 10!
it was only passion. He analysed his feel
iugs more deeply yet, and getting below the
surface currents which are stirred up by
the winds, saw that the quiet waters be-
meath had kept unswervingly on their
course.
When he reached his chamber he sat
down by his table and drew paper and ink
toward him. 81 will not accept your dis
missal, Elsie," he wrote hurriedly in an.
swer to her piteous letter. 81 should be
very shallow if could not read the motive
which prompted your letter. l shall come
down as usual, and we will talk it over till
we understand each other fully. Till then
you must believe me when tell you that
love you all the more fol your act of sacrifice,
and that love you more now than have
done before"
Frank and Elsie have been long married,
and are content. There is no fear of his
swerving again; but the event described left
its mark ON Frank. He knows now thai
he was on the verge of committing griev-
GUS mistake, and one which might have
darkened all his future life. For it is moi
great events, involving tragedies and tears,
that impress themselves most deeply upor
the body of our habits and thoughts; but
the tendency of our life, as in the case be
fore us, is often most deeply affected by
what is no more than ''an every day occur
renee. p Chambers Journal.