The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-05-22

I
went to Mr.. Lyle he could tell you,
jim"
II did so, Marjory. yesterday" he in-
terrupted her quietly, "but he has gone
from home for fortnight If my drawing
had been successful he would have writ
ten before he left. Try not to grieve,
darling; it can't be helped" Jim went on,
with sickly smile. I'VE must try some
thing else. l may hear of something to-
day"
Perhaps there will be a letter tonight"
said Mariory with renewed hope, as she
bid her husband good-by at the. door
Jim came home about 6, looking ter
ribly weary and depressed. He had been
unsuccessful--once more.
''No letters yet, dear said his wife,
Fastening TO answer the unspokeD ques-
ton in his eyes. As she spoke they heard
the postman's knock in the distance; it
came nearer-and died away.
perhaps there will be one in the morn
ing" Marjory went on, but her voice fal-
tered.
In the morning. Another long, awful,
maddening, steadily growing despair
Jim shuddered. He was worn out, physic-
ally and mentally, and he felt as though
he could not stand the sickening suspense
longer. AS he looked at his wife, her
wan, changed little face, with its pale
ghost of a smile, seemed TO pierce his
heart.
A strange terrible, determined look set
tied round his mouth, but Marjory was
leaning her curly head against his arm,
and did not see his face.
The room was quite dark nov, but they
were still standing at the window. For a
time Carol was very STILL Then he said:
II am very tired, Mariory, darling.
will lie down for awhile. Don't disturb
me. II didn't sleep last night" (nor
for many nights, he might have added
But won't you have cup OF tea first,
Jim?"
'No, don't care for any"
"a long sleep will do you good, dear"
she said anxiously and caressingly, You
look dreadful
Eyes, f." he answered in a strange, quiet
voice; "a long sleep will do me good"
Then suddenly, kiss me, Marjoryw
"Ah, nv own dear, disappointed boy :"
she cried, throwing her arms around him.
He held her to him tightly, and kissed
her again and again.
MY darling" he said hoarsely, "my
own darling"
Then he let her 60 and went away. She
heard him 60 upstairs and his footsteps
echo in the rooms above.
Mariory sat at the window for long,
long time, and watched the stars grow
brighter and clearer in the soft, dark sky.
Somewhere in the distance street organ
was wailing out an old hackneved waltz
tune. 1t stirred her heart strangely. She
remembered dancing that waltz with Jim
so very, very long ago-it seemed long
ago, like everything else that was bright
and hopeful. Even Marjory's brave little
heart was heavy tonight What would
become of them, she wondered. God
only knew.
The clock in aneighboring church tower
doomed out on the night air, and as the
last stroke died away there was sharp
knock at the door. 1t was the postman.
Marjory took the one letter he held out
to her, and, closing the door again she
went back TO the sitting room. With
trembling fingers she lighted the candle
and examined the envelope eagerly. Yes,
it was Mr.. Lyle's handwriting Marjory
recognized it without difficulty, for it was
a peculiar hand. With a beating heart
she stole softly upstairs-she did not take
the candle, for fear of waking Jim, should
he be asleep-and peeped into the bed
room. All was still. In the pale starlight
she could just make out the dim outline
of his figure in the bed.
"Jimw she whispered.
No answer. He was evidently asleep.
All it seemed pity to wake him, she
thought; and, after all, perhaps, the letter
held bad news. She softly laid a shawl
over him in the semi-darkness, and crept
down stairs again.
After looking at the fatal envelope for
some time, she slowly opened it. She
could not wait, and she knew Jim would
not mind In another moment she ut
tered a little, glad, involuntary cry, and
her lips parted in joyful. half-incredu-
lous smile. Could it be possible Yes
Jim's design had been selected as the best !;
the premium would be his. And this was
not the only good news the letter con-
| tanned; for Lyle went on to say that he
had heard OF a vacant appointment,
which he thought he could-through his
fathers lnfuence-secure for Carol.
Mariory hid her face in her hands; for
a moment the revulsion of feeling was
almost too much. Then, in passion of
tears and thankfulness, she fell upon her
knees. But she could only say: Thank
! God Thank God~
An hour passed. The moon was drift
ing among the stars and streaming in
through the uncurtained window on Mar
iory's face wet with happy tears. The
candle had burned itself out.
All, what a JOYOUS waking Jim's would
be Should she lay the letter on his pill
low to surprise him when he awoke? Or
should she rouse him? Perhaps he was
already awake.
She lit a fresh bit of candle, and, still
holding the precious letter, went up
stairs. She laid the candle down Just out
side the bedroom door and entered very
gently.
How deadly still the room wasl
Jim !" she said softly.
But Jim did not answer. How soundly
he slept
Marjorv came nearer and bent over him
In the throbbing darkness. The moon
had hidden herself behind a solitary
cloud.
"Jim "a little louder.
Still that strange, weird hush. A vague
fear stirred her heart She did not even
hear him breathe What if he had tainted
The moon sailed out again, illuminat-
ing part of the room, but leaving the bed
in deep SHADOW.
"Jim, darling leaning over him and
LAYING her arm across his neck, "a letter
has come! It is -" With a sudden
sickening terror she stopped and raised
herself for she felt--that her sleeve was
wet.
Snatching up the candle she held it