Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1886-01-07
would say; 'but I'll wait-it is better
1t will soon be over"

would say; "but I'll wait-it is better
lit will soon be over.
| And Dora, working herself to a
shadow over her painting, would think:
1.-The end can not be far of. He will
| soon be free"
Early in the summer Fred found him.
! self again in the old familiar haunts,
but, alas! the old joyous light was want
ing everywhere. A shade, mist,
seemed hanging over everything, and
Dora was farther away than ever.
There were no merry guests to divide
| her attention; but, so absorbed, so
| silent. did she seem, he could hardly
believe it was the same Dora he had
| known in other days.
A week passed by-a week Of mingled
| paradise and torment. Sometimes he
would be on the point of saying to her:
"Dora, l will stand in your way no
| longer; but faint hope still fingered,
and he could not crush it so ruthlessly.
At other times he could almost believe
| himself mistaken-all these months a
| fearful dream-when her eyes met his
so earnestly and seemed filled for a
moment with the Old, warm light.
They sat together one day upon a
little rustic seat. chatting and resting
after walk. Fred had taken some
letters from his pocket which he wished
to show to Dors. A picture fell from
among them. Dora stopped to recover
it. cousin Florry." she murmured,
and Fred began making some common
place remark upon its correctness.
Then, glancing at his companion S
face, he was startled at its deadly
| pallOr. ''Dora!' he cried, 'you are i'll.
We walked to far You must rest"
'.No, I'm not ill.," she said, almost
sharply ''How lovely Florence is"
Eyes, indeed. She is wcll-nigh per-
feet. But there is only one Dora in all
the world" taking her little, cold hand
in his. without Dora the world is
meaningless to me-
Dora's eyes were scanning the dist
ant hills. She made no reply. She
was steeling her heart against him.
''He wants to be true" she thought,
''but l will have no such love-"
Dora, you are not happy"
''Shc started. ''Not perfectly so.
What mortal is?'
lit seems to ME Iwould be if only
things could be as they once were
between us.
This was the first allusion he had
made to the fact that he had noticed
any change in their relations.
Dora realized that crisis was COM
ing. She simply awaited it in silence.
She would neither strive to avert nor
to hasten it.
II have sometimes feared that you
and have been mistaken. That is the
right word, think. If so, I love you
too well to ask you to keep a promise
which has become hateful to you"
Dora rose from her seat; sudden
fire famed in her pale cheek. She
held her hand out toward him-thc
dear little hand that wore his ring.
Something in her air bewildered him.
He stood moment mOtionless, then
seized the hand in both of his own.
She shook him OF impatiently and drew
the ring from her finger. Now he I'M
derstood.
without a word, Dora?" he said,
struggling for sclf-command AS man
might battle for life against the waves
of Il sea.
What is there to say?' asked Dora,
her voice clear as silver bell, while
her eyes shone like two stars. And
again he told himself that lie: "She is
gladr"
And so they parted. The tie formed
almost in childhood was broken, and
they went their separate ways.
Day after day Dora's pale, resolutc
face bent over her canvas, and she
steadicd her trembling hand for greater
achievements. She worked too hard,
they said. She was too ambitious; she
put too much of her life blood into the
strokes of her brush, and few months
ended the struggle.
He came again to the dear old house
beside the river; crowd of friends had
gathered there, but Dora gave them no
welcome. Pale and silent she lay and
stirred not a finger nor an evelash for
any of their tears He stood there with
Florence, and that still form between
them; its smiling lips were no moro
silent now than they had been in life.
A dumb patience was marked on the
sweet face, but they never guessed its
meaning.
''If she might only have livedr'
sobbed Florence.
Fred spoke not, but the bitter cry OF
his heart was: IF l could only h,,o,o
that she loved mer'
And they never dreamed, these two
her nearest and dearest-that Mey
had slain Chicago Tribune.