The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1889-06-28

neayy upon MS brow, and the hnger-markS
Of care were plain across his fine forehead.
Sisters or brothers he had never known,
mother and father were long since dead.
He was alone in the world, alone amidst
the inuumerable who were proud to call
him friend or acquaintance; alone, with no
confidant, no single soul to receive the words
that relieved the pent-up warnings and
emotions of his heart, save Bessie, his low
ing, true, ever-patient Bessie, his alone, to
whom he was god.
To her only did he pour out his most
secret thoughts, his widest imaginings;
tortures of the inquistioD, he knew, could
not wiring from her one word of betrayal of
bis trusts.
From Swallowed nook long she watched
him, then stole silently and, resting at his
feet, laid her beautiful head upon his knee
and raised her beautiful eyes to read in his
own the secrets of his soul.
With lightness Of an angels touch his
great, brown hand fell upon her put-brown
hair. lovingly it fingered among the soft,
short curls, his brow cleared, his gaze be-
came soft, tender, as it rested upon her, and
a sigh of relief told how thankfully,he rec
ognized the bond Of love between them,
how willingly he resigned himself to its
power.
Long they thus remained, silent, yet in full
communion. But Thurlow was creature Of
moods, of strange, sudden, wild impulses
At times he seemed unable to resist the
terrible outbursts Of passion that swayed
him, soul and body; the slightest seeming
Y the most insignificant action Of those I'M
Ter his control-and he considered all who
'cknowledged him as master to be under
lis supreme authority-the most trivial
movement Of one of these would render
him frantic and terrible. In his wrath he
would visit his anger on the innocent, I'M
inspecting victim with the heartless cruelty
of a Nero.
No calm followed these storms, for waves
of unchecked, soul-searching remorse would
toss the unhappy man upon the sea Of self
accusation and restless penitence, while the
''pride that would not down" part Of his
uncurbed nature rendered it almost impos-
siblc for him to make the least exhibition
of sorrC W for the ills he had so ruthlessly
inflicted.
1.-The heart knoweth it's own bitterness"
and no human creature ever dreamed OF
the agony this man endured when his pas
sion had spent its force.
But to the lovely and loving Bessie he
was tenderness itself, not invariably, alas
Stlll, ner gentleneSS, ner ODedlence, ner
beauty shielded her from many of the
storms that beat upon the heads Of others.
1t would be hard to tell, pulling even to
conjecture, what demon of ill found its way
into the atmosphere of peaceful quiet that
surrounded these two as they sat together
in the twilight
Spite Of the good angel that seemed to
hover over them, the demon forced its
way.
What it was, Thurlow could never recall
to his dying day. Some slight movement
on her part that disturbed the tenor of his
thought, perhaps; it might have been only
turn of her head or wandering glance
of her eyes that conveyed to him the
idea that her heart longed for another
resting-place. Let it be what it might, the
spark was struck, the train was fired, and,
like flash, his anger was ablaze.
He sprang to his feet, his eyes flashed
with rage, his lips trembled with passion.
One word, only one word, he uttered,
deep, storm, unanswerable ''Go!'' and with
rigid, upright figure he stood, his arm ex-
tended and his hand pointing out into the
swift gathering darkness.
"Go!'
And she, Bessie, the gentle, uncomplain.
ing, ever-obedient Bessie, hardly yet re-
covered from the shock his sudden uprise
had given her, with slow, lingering steps,