Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1888-04-12

thas beautiful face in porcelain. The great
blue eyes seemed 70 look surprise and re
proach at him. 1t had been long ago, before
50 much as q dream Of sin had tainted the
holy innocence OF her girlhood.
Philip closed his lips very tightly; he
longed unutterably for her lost innocence; he
hungered so desperately for the maidenly
] purity that looked out of these startled eyes.
II she had died then, he might at least have
cherished her memory. What had he done
that he should be punished 50 terriblyi Then
the memories Of the day when the picture
was taken came rushing back upon him
They two had been sitting in her garden
on the afternoon Of a summer day. It was
two, three, almost four years ago, but he
could see the blooming roses and hear the
drowsy hum of the bees as if it had been
yesterday. He had been reading a love poem
10 her; that was as near as he dared come to
love making; sometimes letting his voice
soften and tremble little over the tenderer
passages He was but a timid lover, and
Bertha SO royalty cold Suddenly glancing
at her, Ire saw she was overcome with the
heat, and had fallen asleep leaning her
shapely head back against the rough bark
Of the tree. Her fingers loosely clasped
| Al hCA zap ouE,StoUcu
repose; the girlish bosom rose and fell with
her still breathing, and there was an exqui-
site pout on her lips, as if vaguely mutinous
against the hardness of her pillow His heart
was beating violently as he laid aside his
book and seated himself on the bench by her
side. But he dared not profane the vestal
purity of such sleep as hers; he devoured her
face with his eyes, but did not steal one kiss
a
sweet, mute invitation on them. But he put
his arm about her and drew her toward him
as gently as if she were a sleeping infant, and
made her head rest on his shoulder Then he
looked down the red tinged cheeks, like the
woods in autumn's tenderest mood, swept by
her long, golden eyelashes, and tried TO fancy
she was awake, though her eyes were closed,
and that she was willing her head should rest
on his breast and her bair like fine threads of
twisted Roman gold kiss his burning face
But she moved in her slumber, and then
her star like eyes opened and looked mute
astonishment into his eager face. For ono
startled moment she did not move, and in
sudden boldness from the liberty he had al
ready taken lie poured his passionate declara
lions into her ears, covering her hair and her
forehead and then her cool white hands with
kiSes
"You frighten me, Philip" Her quick,
startled tones as she rose to her feet yet rang
In his ears. She looked at him as half of O
mind to run away. II don't understand
you," she said, reproachfully. The porcelain
picture is just as she was then.
"Why, Bertham He had risen, too; but she
drew back from him. II love you l want
you for my wife,
How coldly she had locked at his flushed,
excited face. He thought it was the supreme
moment in his life; but it seemed to be nothing
to her
''Is that all? Why, thought you were mad"
All, and the same madness burned in his
soul this moment. Time could not wear it
out. Shame, outrage, desolation could not
kill it. He rose to his feet and pushed the
tinted porcelain away from him.
Mrs. Silas Ellingsworth was oil smiles and
grace as Philip entered her parlor, and she
shook hands with him, fingered as cordially
over the greeting as if she had quite forgot
ten her pretty fingers had ever been on his
throat She made him take seat and began
to make conversation with him, as if she sup
posed he had called to see her. But suddenly
she affected to be struck with an idea,
"Oh, know why you are not more talka-
tive, you didn't come to see me at ALL" She
stepped to the door. "Susan, call Miss
Ellingsworth."
Miss" Then there was no longer any
room for doubt. Philip shrank at the blow
she gave him. He had thought all uncer-
tainty was gone long ago, but he found that
up to this very instant he had cherished a
spark of hope that Bertha had right to the
name of the man she had fled with. And
she was 'Miss" still. His hostess way saying
something, but he did not hear it, there was
such deathly faintness about his heart.
Then there came step in the hall, and his
familiar thrill of tenderness at her coming.
She fingered an instant on the threshold, an
old habit of hers that gave him time to step
forward and meet her.
Mrs Ellingsworth had risen, too, and was
waiting to speak. It was only tenderness in
Philip BretOns eyes as he took both Bertha's
hands so gently, but she said:
cam very much changed, thenr' and a
panied look fitted across her face. Philip
did not answer her for moment he was so
distressed at her Interpretation of tho love
that made his sight misty as he gazed at her.
"Well, suppose 1 am in the way,n re-
marked the mistress of the house, with in
bred vulgarity She was smiling sweetly,
but women's smiles do not always signify
amiability. II suppose" she added, letting
her skirts touch her two guests as she passed
out 'you want to talk over old times with
Miss Ellingsworth."
Now camo the last terrible assurance:
Philip WINGED at the heartless blow, but not
so much as flush passed over Bertha's cold
face. She accepted the name without even q
shade of silent denial on her calm features,
though it was the badge of shame for her.
ooh, no." but he dared not look her in the
face for fear she should seq his anxious pity
for her. ''foG ;vo bern ill, perhaps, by:t |
always thought you the loveliest woman in
the world"
She smiled as she let lin lead her to- scat.
"You always said that" Then she glanced
sadly into the mirror. But it is more pleas
ant to hear now, for know am not pretty
any longer"
Could she understand that the change that
mad como over her radiant beauty only
changed his love to make it deeper9 Could
she not see tho new intensity of yearning in
his eyes as he raised them to her face againl
He longed to draw her into his arms and kiss
her tired face into eternal smiles. His love
had been refined into new divineness; love
capable of all sacrifices for her; that asked M
price, but would pour itself in an eternal
flood against her dull indifference, if it must
be; a love more pain than joy, of unutterable
yearnings for what he believed she could