Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1888-12-22

could not stand the SIckenlng suspense
longer. As he looked at his wife, her wan,
changed little face, with its pale ghost of a
smile, seemed to pierce his heart
A strange, terrible, determined look set
tied round his mouth, but Marjory was
leaning her curly head against his arm
and did not see his face.
The room was quite dark now, but they
were still standing at the window For a
time Carlo was very still. Then he
said:
81 am very tired, Marjory darling.
will lie down for while Don't disturb
me. II didn't sleep last night" (nor for
many nights, he might have added.
"But won't you have a cup of tea first,
Jim ?"
mo, don't care for any,"
IA long sleep will do you good, DEAR"
she said, anxiously and caressingly. "You
look dreadful
Yes" he answered, in strangely quiet
voice, a long sleep will do me good"
Then suddenly. Kiss me, Mariory p'
"Ah, my own DEAR disappointed boy |"
she cried, throwing her arms round him.
He held her to him tightly, and kissed
her again and again.
"My darlingr' he said hoarsely. my
own darlingw
Then he let her go, and went away. She
heard him so up stairs and his footsteps
echo in the room above.
Marjory sat at the windnw for long,
long time, and watched the stars grow
brighter and clearer in the soft, dark sky.
Somewhere in the distance street organ
was wailing out an old, hackneyed waltz
tune. 1t stirred her heart strangely. She
remembered dancing that waltz with jim,
so very, very long ago-it seemed long ago,
like everything else that was bright and
hopeful. Even Marjory's brave little heart
was heavy tonight. What would become
of them, she wondered God only knew.
The clock on the neighboring church
tower doomed out on the night air; and as
the last stroke died away there was a sharp
knock on the door. 1t was the postman.
MarjOry took the one letter he held out to
her, and, closing the door again, she went
back to the sitting-room. With trembling
fingers she lighted the candle, and exam
ined the envelope eagerly. Yes-it wds
Mr. Lyle's handwriting Mariory recog-
nized it without difficulty, for it was a pc
culiar hand. With beating heart She
stole softly upstairs-she did not take the
candle for fear of waking Jim, should he
be asleep-and peeped into the bedroom.
All was still. In the pale starlight she
could just make out the dim outline of his
figure on the bed
"Jim p' she whispered.
No answer. He was evidently asleep.
All 1t seemed pity to wake him, she
thought; and perhaps, after all, the letter
held bad news. She softly laid a shawl
over him in the semi-darkness, and crept
down stairs again.
After looking at the fateful envelope for
some time, she slowly opened it. She could
not wait; and she knew Jim would not
mind. In another moment she uttered
little glad, involuntary cry, and her lips
parted in a joyful. half-incredulous smile.
Could it be possible Yes, Jim's design
had been selected as the best; the premium
would be his And this was not the only
good news the letter contained for LYLE
went on to say that he had heard Of
vacant appointment, which he thought he
could-through his fathers influence
secure for Carol.
Marjory hid her face in her hands; for
a moment the revulsion of feeling was al
most too much. Then in passion of tears
and thankfulness she fell upon her knees.
But she could only say, Thank God
Thank God p'
An hour passed The moon was drifting
among the stars, and streaming in through
the uncurtained window on Mariory's face
wet with many tears. The candle had
burnt itself out
All, what joyous waking Jim's would
be Should she Law the letter on his nil |
low, to surprise him when he awoke? Or |
should she rouse him? Perhaps he was
already awake.
She lit a fresh bit of candle, and, still |
holding the precious letter, went up stairs.
She laid the candle down Just outside the |
bedroom door, and entered very gently.
How deadly still the roomwas
"Jimw she said softly.
But Jim did not answer.
Marjory came nearer, and bent over him
in the throbbing darkness. The moon had
hidden herself behind one solitary cloud. |
Jim pa little louder.
Still that strange weird hush A vague
fear stirred her heart. She did not even
hear him breathe. What if he had tainted ! |
The moon sailed out again, illumining
part of the loom, but leaving the bed in
ueep snauOW.
"Jim, darling" leaning over him and
laying her arm across his neck, "a letter
has come, 1t is" With sudden
terror she stopped and raised
herself, for she felt-that her sleeve was
wetl
Snatching up the candle she held it over
the bed, and by its Pickering light she
saw-ah, dear heaven, what did she see?
Not her Jim, surely
A white, dead face-a dark red stain on
the coverlet-a CHASTITY wound-and cold,
fingers, still holding-what
All, cruel Jim
A long, shuddering cry rang out on the
autumn -wild-agonized-
ing. Again and again it echoed. Then
all was still.
In the asylum at s. there is fair,
slender woman, with solemn, childlike eyes
and sunny hair.
"Hush P' she says to the doctors every
day, with lowered voice and uplifted finger.
"Hush Jim is asleep. l must not wake
him. He is so tired, poor Jim He does
not know that the letter has come. You
will take me to him, will you not? Not
now-but when he kes."-Ct1tis Yorke,
in Temple Bar.