San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-12-15


platOnics. You must go awRy-right
away now"
81 will. will throw myself of that
cliff into the sea il you send me on: Of
your sweet presence banished man"
"Hushl you VIII go because you love
me. You are a man Of the world, and for
my sake, you understand. you must not
haunt me or follow my stems wherever
20. Besides, it would only make you
more miserable if you did"
"You might learn to love me in the
end"
Love is not lesson to be learned,
think. II is an inspiration, a fate; it
comes unbidden. and abides forever"
.Unless it dies violent DEATH" puts in
her companion. for some instinct tells him
that is how it has been with her.
Then the ghost haunts the heart it
once gladdened, if the heart is not broken
at its fall"
Then you never will love me at any
time, or under any circumstances what
everH" he asks anIiously.
"Sincerely speaking. believe not. l
have found your friendship most pleas
ant, and regret TO say goodbye"
Then we will call it az recOir. Listen to
me for one moment, Fleur de Marie.
shall not detain you long-I will leave you
and go right away as you desire. i shall
exchange into the Princes Own, which
is ordered out in November. l have
friends and relations in India. l will join
them, and make a home there. l shall
not prosecute you with letters, not one
word till another year has passed over
our heads. Then, if you will allow me,
this time, this day, next Septe mber,I
shall write once, my first and last letter
to you, asking you again 10 be my wife,
and you will kindly give me final An
swer."
DO not, l pray you. Why deceive
yourself2 tell you my answer will be
the same" she answers rather impatiently.
Somehow ! do not believe it. Maybe
l am too sanguine. Anyhow. | shall write.
Hope never hurt a man yet, and if you
again refuse l shall have only myself to
blame and you to respect Farewell till
we meet again, sweet Fleur de Marie.
have strange presentiment we shall yet
be man and wife. Stranger things have
happened"
"None less likely"
"Ah well, will not argue further.
feel we shall meet again. FAREWELL
Think Of me sometimes when your sing
ing brings flowers to your feet. Remem-
Der, am no fair weather friend. l am
waiting for yOu when the world has ceased
TO smne, and your so called friends turn
aside to worship at some fresh shrine. II
you ara in trouble, write TO me; if you
want . home, come to me. You do not
believe in platonics, you sayf but what l
offer is not friendship but love. Fare
we'll"
There are tears in the blue eyes. and
trouble in the beautiful face, as she turns
and stretches out both of her hands, UNI
able to speak for SORROW that she has
nothing to give, only God-speed.
At last she says brokenly:
GOOD bye, friend. See, l believe in
your friendship, because you have the
courage to go. Twill remember your words
and il l am in trouble l will call you to
nv side. But my love-no, no, that can
never give you. See l will trust you, l
will tell you," and she comes nearer to
him, and whispers: THAT name you saw
lust now half traced on the sand / have
ohliterated; but nothing, not even the
wild vain tears | have shed, can wash
those letters from my heart. 1t is true rs
you guessed Gabriel is my best, my
only beloved; the love l have for
him is a part Of my being. l. was
born when we sang together and starved
together in the London streets, it has
grown with my growth, and though its
blossoms have been hlightcd by neglect,
nothing can Iurt it ont from my heart. l
am free, it is true Gabriel is lost to me,
fear forever; hut still am bound, not
by u promise. but 10y the force Of my own
feelings. The faculty for loving is dead
in me, since another has robbed me of his
object. i now live only to give voice to
my sorrow in song. My life is like an I'M
finished story, the author Of which died
and left his work incomplete, or cared
not to complete it. 1t is some consolation
10 sing, and thus give vent to-but l will
not weary you. l have said enough.
You see how it is. | am not able to love
you. l have trusted you with my hearts
secret; it will, know, be sacred to you
as your mothers name. Now, ! shall
send you away. know of old what the
paiR Of parting is when one loves. Why
prolong itl"
He holds her little white hand, that is
soft as silken glove, for one moment in
his own broad, brown palm, looking at it in
loving wonder, then he touched the slight
fingers with his lips, and left her with
one long, long look, but never word.
Up the narrow winding path he goes
towards the town, slowly. with steps that
drag YEARLY, and head bent down.
Once only, when he comes TO the sum-
NIT Of the cliff he turns anil sees her, the
woman who has just pronounced his ban
Of exile, standing as he left her, with her
fair face seward, leaning over the back
OF her twisted willow chair with its gay
colored cushions, while the fading sun
light falls on her dead gold hair, and
touches the re-cut crystals at her neck.
81 fancy, somehow, she will yet be my
wife. Stranger things have happened.
1t will not he for love, at least, not first
love, and no second quality is worth
much. But, all, there are Thousand and
one other motives which move man or
woman TO marriage. ! will win her in
spite Of herself; but not now, not yet-in
. years time, maybe"
CHAPTER V.
A year bad passed. The London ses-