Western Kansas world., 1888-02-18

she said, as she turned her face to
where he rode in silence at her side
booted and spurred like cavalier Of
old. They were the first words that
had been spoken for a good half hour.
She knew there were thoughts in his
heart akin to hers. II can never repay
you for it all, she said.
Suddenly he checked his horse be-
meath giant oak, whose broad shadow
fell across the road. InYoluntarily she
stopped and looked at him anxiously.
aEver repay me?" he repeated. The
words came hard between his cfenched
teeth-"ever repay me?" He fingered
on the words as if thousand memories
we're passing through his brain don't
you know that you have repaid me q
thousand foid? Don't you know tnat
your smiles your kind words-your-
don't you know that love you?"
There were tears in his eyes ere the
words all came. Her gaze fell upon
his face and the anguish depicted there.
The foreshadow of her going touched
her with infinite regret. The words he
had spoken thrilled her and confounded
her with the overwhelming sense of a
revelation whose meaning she had but
dimly known. She saw her fate stand
ing face to face with her; and she saw
not the tranquil, propitious fate her
fancy had depicted. She saw future
in the reflected pallor of his face,
miserable alike for both. In that mo-
ment she knew that he was dearer to
her than all else beside! But she would
not let him know. Touching his horse
lightly with her riding whip, she turned
her own in the direction whence they
hal come.
II am going away tomorrow, you
remember" she said, and her voice had
tinge of sadness, though there was no
tremor in it. "We must not quarrel
on the eve of my departure.
"It beats anything dat eber see in
all O. my borned days." said the old
butler to the cook, at sunset of drear
December day as he piled huge back
log on the cracking hickory fire, and,
through sheer ill.humor, kicked his
masters hunting dog that lay doing
on the hearth. "Dat gal dat was here
las summer done gone ruin him. He
followed her around while she was heah
and now he got 20 60 follow her agin'
and de plantation all going to go back
to waste agin and ole missis to be lef'
lone. It jis takes de rag smak of'n de
bush"
It was as he said. Trevor had started
north in search of his lost heart.
ut is perfect folly that I should love
her," he often thought; "she is wealthy
and fond of society. Ny love could
not atone for the solitude of this place,
and I never will leave it in mothers
lifetime"
And again he would say, "It is very
lonely down here on the Sunfower
River. I never knew how lonely it was
until she left"
His thoughts followed her in her
northward flight His soul went in
pursuit of her, and he said to himself
one cloudy December morning: II can
stand it no longer. I must see her
again.
So it was that Trevor had left. He
was on his way to her. He wondered
as he sped along how life had ever been
enduraDlo without ler.
Everything seemed dull and empty,
and he yearned to see her sweet face
once more.
He had never been farther north than
Virginia, where his college days we're
spent, but he knew the number of the
street in the city where she lived. He
drew from his pocket-book dainty lit
tie card with her name upon it, and
Thursday down in the corner. He re-
'membered she had said, with a joyous
smile which haunted him always:
'Dut when you come, all days will be
alike"
The train drew into the depot of the
great city, and he passed out through
the throng. Entering hack he drove
to hotel
That day he took great care with his
toilet. Tt took him great while before
the mirror in his room to arrange his
cravat Finally he started and with no
difficulty found the house. He was sur
prised that his ring remained so long
unanswered; he rang again and the door,
after some delay, was opened by serv-
ant in livery.
"Is she at home?" he eagerly queried,
and called her name, handing him his
card.
The man looked first at him and then
at his card, in stan tied and confused
manner.
"Didn't you know that she was dead,
sir? She died two weeks ago." were
the words that stabbed Arthur Trevor's
heart like knife.
Yes, she was dead, the struggle be-
tween loyalty and love had oyerpow-
cred her; they called it rapid consump-
ton, it was in reality something else.
Only Arthur Trevor never knew the
truth that she died for love of him.
He staggered down the steps stricken
mortally, but uttered no word.
He went back to the plantation, and
his gentle, gray-haired mother met him
at the door. Ere many moments had
passed she was soothing as had been
her wont when he was young.
NJ 20 1;v;po on tho old p1onfatiOn vof