Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1888-08-30

loved the girl OF his first choice, and felt that
his untruth 10 her was only the result Of a
transient, sensuous passion, il was equally
plain that he must resolutely break away
from the beautiful tempter. But he oscillated,
pendulum-like, between tho two. When
Irene began to recover, and he was allowed
to see her in her chamber, the influence she
had at first exerted returned upon him with
double force In her helplessness, she APP
peaIed powerfully to the chivalric sentiment
which man feels towards the dependent; her
tones, softened by affection and tremulous
from weakness, thrilled his soul; and the
touch of her hand was electric. When he re-
turned to his studio, as he thought of the
trustful, unsuspecting, generous heart of
Agnes he was smitten with pang of re-
morse too keen to be borne. He tried to look
at her picture, but the face was TO him like
the sight Of reproving angel He could not
look steadily upon the placid features; the
calm eyes turned his heart TO stone; the
sweet mouth was an Rccuser he dared not
face. But when next he saw Irene, all was
forgotten; while under her spell he could
have braved the world, only too happy to
live and die for her.
For days this struggle continued His art
had no power TO amuse him or engross his
thought His friends were neglected.
Palette with the rest. His enemy could not
have wished to see him more completely mis-
cradle He knew that he must decide, must
act; but whatever might be his determine
ton, he had most painful duty to perform
Let him do what he might, he must prove
himself villain. He loathed, detested him
self. Sometimes he was tempted to fly, but
then he reflected that he should in that way
prove scoundrel to two women instead of
1lraA -
Agnes, and the last letter he had received
from her was month old. He took it from
his pocket, where it lay among the perfumed
and tinted evidences of his unfaithfulness
1t was simple thing, but how the gentle
words smoke upon his heartl
"My dear James, (her dear James blow
wish could be with you, to rejoice over
your SUGGEST You are really great artist,
the papers say, and are becoming famousl
Not that I love you the more for that. If
you were still unknown to the world, still
| only a lover of beauty for its own sake, and
content with painting for your own pleasure
| | am not sure that should not love you the
more. But you will believe me, that | am
proud Of your success. If am ambitious, it
| is for you. | would have the world see and
know you as / do. Yet not as do,-nobody
can do that To the world you are a great
painter To me-ah, my dearest james,
you are the nobest and truest heart that ever
woman rested upon. shall be proud of the
homage the world gives you, because at the
same time shall say, That is my betrothed,
my husband, whom they praise; what his
heart is, no woman knows but me- -
| He could read no farther. His emotions
were too powerful to be borne in silence. He
yielded, and, strong man as he was, bowed
his head and wept.
| It was a long nght-a night of unuttera-
BILE suffering, struggle, and doubt. The hours
seemed shod with lead. Sleep seemed ban
ished from the universe. But with the com
ing of dawn the tempest was stilled. In the
clear light of day the path of duty seemed
plain. He felt sure that in his heart of hearts
| he loved Agnes, and her only. He would go
at once to Irene and tell her of his perfidy,
| implore the forgiveness of silence and charity,
and bid her farewell When he reached this
| conclusion he bacame calm He could face
any temptation without one flutter Of incon-
stancy towards his first love.
Oakhurst was not the only one in the city
with whom the night had passed heavily.
| Failures by dozens were announced daily
! No business man felt secure No amount of
property, other than ready money, was any
! safeguard Some looked white with appre-
hension, some crushed and fearful, others
stony, sullen, or defiant. Like ships crew
on q raft, alone ON the ocean without provi-
| sions, they looked at each other as they were.
There in their extremity, were to be seen
calm resignation, unmanly terror, moody
despair, turbulent passion, and stealthy,
fiendish gIances that blinked not at eannibal-
| ism itself.
Mr.. Norcross, almost for the first time in
| Il.
prehension II was the moment of fate to
| him. He had gone to the last verge, ex-
hausted every resource, land, if there were not
| some help, as unlocked for as n shower of
gold from Heaven, he must stop payment
he, whose credit had been spotless and with
| out limit, whose name in the financial world
was honor itself, whose influence had been a
| tower Of strength in every undertaking 1t
was not without a struggle that he brought
| himself to look this memorable fnrt in the
| face Irene and his sister-in-aw beard him
As he paced the room through the Il, Ut they
| had noticed his distracted and dow cast ali
the preceding evening, and al break
| fast the few words tlat es-
capped from between his firm-set lips
were sufficiently ominous 1t was the first
morning that Irene appeared at the table,
and in her feeble condition the apprehension
Of danger was intense and overpowering.
Mrs Norcross tried in vain to change the
conversation, by significant glances toward
the invalid but the brother was too much
absorbed to notice anything outside of the
gloomy circle that hemmed him in. Mutter-
ing still of ruin" "beggery," and similar
topics, so admirably adapted to cheer the
convalescent, he. swallowed his breakfast,
like an animal, left the room without his
usual bland "good morning." and slammed
the street-door after him.
| A fit of Mysteries was the natural conse-
quence. The kind and sisterly widow bore.
rather than led, Irene to an upper room,
propped her with pillows in an arm chair
and employed every tender and womanly
art to soothe her excited nerves. Calmness
came, but only with exhaustion. The door
bell rang, Mrs. Norcross gave an inaudible
direction to the servant. But Irene
claimed at is Jamesl l heard his step on
the pavement. must see him. Let him i'm
Mrs. NorcroSs demonstrated to no purpose,
and then went to her own room.
1t was James," He entered the room with
pale face, and look betokening both suf-
fering and resolution. He was evidently
struck by the appearance of Miss Norcross,
rightly Judging that she was not able to bear
what he had come to tell her. He would
| have uttered few commonplace courteses,
and deferred his weighty communication to
another time. But Irene's senses were prefer
naturally sharpened; weak as a vine without
its trellis, instinct seemed to guide her to
clasp by every tendril the support to which
she had bcsl wont to cling. She noticed a
certain un-asiness in Oakhurst's demeanor;
ready to give the worst Interpretation to
everything, she exclaimed, in quick,
frightened manner, "James, dear James,
what is the matterl You are cold, you are
distant. Are you in trouble, too, like all the
| worldH
"Deeply in trouble" he answered gravely,
still standing, hat in hand.
"Trouble that cannot soothen
81 am afraid not"
"And you won't tell meg"
"Not to-day"
"Then You don't love mo-"
Oakhurst was SILENT his lips showing the
emotion he strove to control. Her voice took
a more cheerful tone, as if she would assure
herself, and, with faint smile, she said, -
"You are silent; but l am only childish.
You do love NEEDN'T you, james,
GAS much as | ever did,
A mean subterfuge; for though it was true,
perhaps, to him, he knew it was falsehood
to her She attempted TO rise from her chair;
he sprang to support her.
"You are so gloomy, reserved, to-dayl" she
continued.
| gtiu Oakhurct xvae eiIaut ua aidad her m