The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1888-10-03

She knew he idolized her and she made the
| sacrifice for his sake. She saw that she was
almost essential to his very existence, he had
no wish outside of her. and was ever X ind and
gentle 10 her. She could respect ana honor
him. but not love him her love was planted
Her husband never spoke OF Harold. Only
once did his name ever pass between them.
One evening she was standing in the garden
looking at the "Queen of night" unbar the
portals OF The east, thinking Of the time when
She and Harold had so oft stood together
! there and watched the silver rib rise above
the tall oaks. The tears ditnmed her eyes as
the memory of departed days filled her with
melancholy. She thought she was alone in
her sadness until soft voice whispered,
what troubled tonight my love? or are
you only thinking Of me?"
| "No Claude, was thinking OF Harold"
| A paleness stole over his face; the smile
died on his lips; his heart beat wildly. She
buried her golden head on his breast and wept
pressibly dear to him, the thought came to
him, "If 1t had not been for me she would
have been happy with her lover. My God
pity me! AS she turned to leave him she
| threw her arms around his neck, pressed her
! lips to his and asked beseechingly,
! "Claudc forgive me, could not help it."
| 81 have nothing to forgive my beautiful
darling; nm not Jealous Of the dead
! No, he was not jealous OF the dead. She
cared for no living man; never pang OF
jealousy darted across his heart. When he
heard her inurmur Harold" in her dreams,
not jealousy, but remorse ate the vitas Of his
| life. Remorse, that flame that never dies, q
| wreath Of thorns worn forever next the heart
Time flies on, five, ten years pass away,
full Mrs. Durant standing in a handsome
| room, in ball costume. She Is attired in
creamy satin, jewels glttering in her golden
hair and on her snowy neck and arms. She
muses. as she glances into a mirror
| "Yes,"I Will go; l care not myself but
| Claude loves me; Will try to please him."
A sod gleam came into tho lovely eyes:
something like tear glistened on the long
lashes--her thoughts were far away. She
went down the long steps, met her husband,
they stepped into carriage and dashed away
into night. She was far more beautiful
mature beauty now, a girlish beauty then.
She was beautiful yes, daughter of the gods,
divinely fair. CHANGING at the man who sat
beside her, even IN the dim light, one could
noble and distinguished looking, still the
dark curling hair was thickly sprinkled with
silver; there was vast changein him; time
fair lady at his side.
| 1t was Christmas eve. Col. and Mrs. Du.
rant were on their way to q ball at the village,
given In honor OF MIR. Lamont, gentleman
great Oriental traveller, fabulously wealthy
and as he was to leave on the morrow, the
whole town had agreed to do him honor.
| was presented to Mrs. Durant. He was fascl.
mated with her the moment his eyes fell upon
her: there was q chairman irresistible
over him he could not resist; a magical pow
er she eXerted over all who knew her. After
he was introduced to her he never left her
side until cry was raised for some music
was Mis-. Durant. AS they arose and walked
| together down the long room, hum Of admi-
ration was heard on every side; the power OF
beauty and intellect was felt. Tonight Mrs.
| Dnrnnt sang in her Swpptesf gtcoipc throw
Ing as 1t were her very soul into her voice, for
she was anxious to please the handsome
| stranger who stood at her side.
AS she arose Col. Durant observed q sad
gleam pass over the face of Mr.. Lamont. 1T
reminded him of some one, he had reasons TO
suppose was not living. cold sensation
aroused himself; it was only his imaginings
that person had been dead ten years; 1t could
not be-no 1t was not he. Mr.. Lamont seated
himself at the piano, ran his fingers dreamily
over the keys, and with a sad far awny look
in his blue eyes, sang, after glancing at Mrs.
Durant for moment,
~ would not bring my sorrows here,
Amid this gay and Joyous throng,
Iwould repress the rising tear.
| Then ask me not to sing that song.
| 'Tis the song l used to sing
For him. when all was hope and truth,
| Before knew that time would fling
! One shadow DER my happy youth"
Many an eye in that ballroom was dimmed
| with tears ere he had finished. There was q
silence caused by the power, the pathos of the
singer. The thought rushed over Mrs. Du-
rant. where had she seen those eyes before,
where had she heard that sweet, sad voice ?
She could not think. She thought of Harold.
then In fancy she saw a low mound far away
her heart grew cold and sad at the thought OF
him. AS he took her hand when he bade her
goodbye, she noticed him tremble as he said
to her,
| had once. vtln hpanfif1l liHo hn
| Did she perceive tremor In his voice, as q
pallor overspread his face? Yes, she observed
II, and in her heart she pitied him. She
knew one who could sing with so much feel.
Ing had known sorrow. She thanked him
and passed on, but it was many days ere she
forgot that handsome ace, that seemed ever
to haunt her in her dreams.
The months heightened into years. A
| change had come over Col. Durant, his health
was failing rapidly-he was victim to con-
sumption. Day by day, as his wife heard the
hollow cough that was wearing his life away,
she knew he would not be with her long. She
was as kind and gentle with him as mother
with her child; she learned to love the feeble
man, not with passionate love, but with q
ter part OF April, as she sat watching him as
he lay slum bering on the sofa, he opened his
eyes and clasped her hand, and family asked
"Lois, darling, do you know my life is al
most done, that my days are numbered?"
| 80 no! Claude, you do not know that; don't
talk that way, 1t will break my heart"
II do knoW,.have known 1t a long time-I
am sure of IT,"
She pressed her soft lips to his as she said
i forsake us
Lois, there is story in my life that must
tell you before die; you will hate me, but l
must tell you"
Nothing can make me hate you Claude, for
you are the noblest man Lever knew"
"HuSh child! You know not what you say
have loved you ever since You were q child
have never loved another; you have been
the idol Of my life. I was glad when your ia.
ther laid himself uuder obligations to me.
thought perhaps that would be an incentive
to gain your love- l was overjoyed when you
prom iSed your father you would marry me.
Imagine my anguish II you can, when after
wards you refused me, assuring me you loved
another. Jealousy, yes Jealousy us cruel as
the grave, as deep as The ocean, filled my
heart. l vowed Vengeance on him were
ever TO know his name. For weeks tried to
discover who he was. but ell my etto,ts were
fruitleSs. At last was successful. One eve.
ming was concealed behind q magnolia. as
you were seated in the garden. l often went
there to catch glimpse OF You, I could not
live without sight of you. / tried not to love
you. but could not. It's us useless 10 strive to
Quench true love as it is TO attempt to change
the course OF nature.
AS you arose to leave the garden you drop
ped letter. got it, read il, learned your Sc
! cret-your lovers name. / had often suspect
InF1 yr.l,k 1>