Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1889-03-30
MISS BRETHERTON
By NRa HUMPHREY WARD.
AUTHOR or "RopRRf rLsurRI~ y
CHAPTER TX.


oh9" " AoBkRf ELsMERk"
CHAPTER TX.
The morning of Naris,. fuu.r., -. -,uov.
but bitterly cold. it va one Of tbo.c dsx,
when autumn finally 49, into winter ana
the last n,emory ~ ~ e,,mn,er vsrmth van.
isbea frosn a. sir n M -, ~. ..ad.-A
drearissf lsvirv tn - The y,,ao,-.i $780,
of whom Wsric hsd s,,olsn An bor LAST ho,,r,
hnd heeo upabls 10 come. and the two mar,
bad roma tbrourh n All niopc. bclned on,v bv
the fearful. iu.p,Isivc svmpatbv md the ,,rsc.
teal energy al tho maid Who ha,l h.on ,r;sh
: Marie ever since her marriage. nnd was n,
vet hardly capable Of realizing her n,istress'
death.
Il was she who. while tbey weroa awsv haa
done her best TO throw a little air Of comfort
over the forsaken salon. She had kindled
the fire, watered the plants and thrown onen
The windows to the sunshine, finding In her toll
and movement some little relief from her own
heartscbe and oppression When panI IA mn.
back, and with numb. trembling fingers had
stripped himself of his scarf and his rroot.
coat, he stepped over tho threshold int In.
salon and it seemed to him as though tho ann
light and the open windows and the cracking
blase of tho Gre dealt him a sudden blow.
He walked up to the windows. and sbudder.
ing, drew them down and closed the blinds
Felicie watching him anxiouslv from tbe
landing through the half omen door Than
be had thrown hiu,self into n chair. ana
Kendall, cominy softly I'M stairs after him
had gently closed tho door from tho outside
said o kind word to relicie. and himself
Slipped noiselessly down again and out into
tho Champs Elysecs. There he had paced nm
and down for an hour or moro under tho
trees, from which q few frosty leaves were
still hanging In the December air.
Ho himself had been no stunned and be.
wildered by the loss which had fallen upon
him, that, when he found himself alone and
out Of doors again, no was for q while
scarcely able to think consecutivsly about IL.
He walked along conscious for some time of
nothing but q sort Of dumb physical con.
geniality in the sunshine, In the clear blue
and white Of the sky, in the cheerful distinct
ness and sharpness Of every outline. And
then, little by little, the cheated grief reas-
serted itself, the numbed senses woke into
painful life, and he fell into broken musings
on tho past, or into bitter wonder over tho
precarious tenure by which men hold those
good things whereon, SO long as they arc still
their own, they are SO quick to rear an ediflce
Of optimist philosophy. A week before. his
sisters affection had been to him the one suffi-
cient screen between his own consciousness
and the desolate threatening tmmensities of
thought and OF existence. Tho screen had
fallen, and the darkness seemed to be rush-
ing in upon him. And still. life had to bc
lived, work to he got through, duties to be
faced. How Is It donel he kent yaguely won.
dering. How Is IL that men live on to ola
age and sec bond after bond broken, and DOS.
session after possession swept away, and still
find tho years tolerable and the sun pleasant.
still cherish In themselves that inexbaustible
faith in an ideal something which supplies
from century to century tho invincible mo-
tive power Of the racer
Presently-by virtue Of long critical and
philosophical habit-his mind brought itself
to bear more and moro steadily upon his own
position; he stepped back, as it were. from
himself and became his own spectator. Tbe
introspective temper was not common with
him; his mind was naturally turned outward
towards other people, towards books. to-
ward intellectual interests But self study
had had its charm for him of late. and.
among other things, it was now plain to him
that up to tho moment Of his first meeting
with Isabel Bretherton his life had been
mostly that of an onlooker-a bystandsr
Society, old and new, men and women of tho
past and of tho present. tho speculative
achievements Of other times and of his own
these had constituted sort of vast drama
before his eyes, which he had watched and
studied with az ever living curiosity. But
his interest in his particular role had been
comparatively weak, and in apalyzing other
individualities he had run some risk Of losinp
his own.
Then love came by, and tho half dormant
personality within him had been seized upon
and reused, little by little, into a glowing.
although a repressed and hidden energy. He
had learned in his own person what It means
TO crave, to thirst, to want. And now. grief
had followed and had pinned him moro
closely than ever to his special littlo part in
tho human spectacle. The old loftiness, tho
old placidity OF mood, were gone. Hs had
loved, and lost, and despaired. Beside those
great experiences how trivial and evanescept
seemed all the interest Of the life that went
b. fore theml He looked back over his inter-
course with Isabel Bretherton, and the points
upon which it had turned seemed SO remote
from him, so Insignificant, that for tho mo-
ment he could hardly realize them. The ar
tistic and aesthetic questions which had
seemed to him SO vital six months be-
fore had faded almost out of view in the
fierco nsighborhood Of sorrow and passion.
His first relation to her had been that of one
who knows to ono who is ignorant; but that
puny link had dropped, and ho was going to
meet her now, fresh from the presence of
death, loving her as man loves a woman,
and claiming from her nothing but pity for
his grief, balm for his wound-the answer Of
human tenderness to human need.
How strange and sad that she should be
c,rIv n,ornin@ aetar Waria, aau aa..t, . IN tne
wo.s nm f,nr, To- haa,,S ,o,,r' w, "nen uo
nind boa hasr t,,,i 90 ban LOU H. =, e'eep' us
ns,.s 20 Iva hro,an - 49, ~ ~" n,'s Mus sue
not s.OI tbot ha no,,Ia L., ~, "u,ui hnssn ulu
-, T,sa. ~ .oa ,eo n'' oio'Ier