The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-01-30

than the worship OF old.
''Oh, yes yOu-you more, perhaps,
than most men. When you wrote me
your letter OF farewell you ended il in
delicate phrases because you are a gentle
man, but the truth which pierced through
them was that you left me as you would
have left any bought companion of your
pleasures"
"No; ten thousand times no." he said
vehemently. "Yeu imagined what was
not there. You exaggerated the offense
TO you. Women always will. | might
be ungrateful, unworthy, failing in ap-
probation and penetration as you say,
but never for moment failed to render
you the honor that you merit"
She smiled family.
'Since you left me how can you expect
me to believe it? If you leave your wife
tomorrow will she believe that you honor
her?"
"Why will you speak OF herr"
1--WE must speak of her. She exists"
''Let me forget that she does so !"
The same faint dreamy smile came on
her mouth; he could not tell whether she
believed or disbelieved him, whether she
esteemed him true or false, whether she
loved him still or had put him wholly from
her inner life
to me is one which no woman who has
any pride can pardon. You love me, you
do not love me, you think you love me
again, you vacillate, you doubt, you for.
sake, you adore; and you expect me to
humbly await you while your heart oscil-
lates to and fro, now close to mine, now
leagues away from mine"
81 expect nothing" be said bitterly. Il
have lost the right TO expect, If were
ever happy enough TO possess it. Only, if
YOU will tell me any test by which / can
prove YOU my sincerity, tell me what it is,
and then you will learn whether | now
speak on mere caprice or not"
She was silent, while all the light of her
deep and lustrous eyes seemed 10 plunge
into his and through them search his in
most soul. She was silent some moments,
and she could hear the loud fast beating
OF bis heart.
"There is only one test possible for me
to accept or to believe in" she said at
last
Tell me what it is; on, indeed, l will
consent to ii untold" ts
do not be too rash. she said, with
cold and mOmentary smile. You must,
however, know very we'll what it is.
Leave YOUR. wife forever and l shall be-
lieve in your love for me-"
He turned away pale and was mute.
"Y on hesitate ?" she said with interroga-
ton and disdain.
He sighed heavily.
at is demand which does not affect
myself alone"
"Did your demand OF the past affect
yourself alone? What demand OF love.
or OF life, can ever concern oneself
alone?"
You mean TO leave her publicly?''
"Yes; nothing less than that. l will
accept no divided allegiance. 1t was for
her you insulted me. 1t must now be
her whom YOU surrender for me-
He was silent.
"My honor" be said at last, but he hesi-
tated, and she filled up the sentence.
"Your honorl You mean your conven-
tional Difference to the Worlds opinion.
You are weary of your wife, you shun, dis
like and avoid her, but YOU consider your
honor saved, if you affect with her, for
society, union which has wholly ceased
to exist, either in fact or feeling. l tell
you you know nothing OF genuine passion
or vital pain. You are honest neither to
myself or her"
He was silent; he breathed heavily; his
heart was torn between conflicting emo
tions
Remember" said Beatrice Soria coldly,
II do not ask this OF you; do not even
wish it much less do l counsel it. only
say. as have a right TO say, that such
alone is the proof of your sincerity which
/ can accept or credit. You already seek
from me patience. forgiveness, and OBJ
livion OF no common sort: ] have a right
to answer that ! can only give you these
on certain conditions. You can fulfill
them or reject them as you please. There
was time, l confess, when L could have
died of the pain of your abandonment.
But that time is past. You have taught
me 10 live without you. l can do so now
ana in the future. 1t is lesson which no
man who is wise teaches to any woman"
lie sighed as he heard; the words
were the same in meaning as those which
Aubrey had spoken to him of his wife.
What are your conditions?" he asked
in low voice Tell me more clearly.
What is it you exact? Your right | admit.
/ have never denied it"
"What have said. That you should
leave your wife. and make it known to
her that YOU leave her forever. You will
write a letter of farewell TO her which L
shall read and send. 1t was for her that
you insulted and forsook me- 1t is her
HOW NnOln YOU Auu6b cetCI II SOu dI e
in earnest"
He was silent a moment; then he
walked TO the table near on which were
paper and pens and ink, and litter OF
opened letters 'Tell me what to write"
he said with the same sound in his voice,
which was half sullen and half imploring.
He plunged one of the quilts in the ink,
and turned to her and waited.
"No; not in that haste, she said and
she rose and closed her writing-table.
You shall not say or think in the future
that / hurried you into an agitated and
unmeditated act. Years ago we were much
like that, but such madness is over. Your
choice must he deliberate and wholly vol
untary. 1t will last out your life and
mine. So now, if you choose you can re-
turn to this room at this hour tomorrow.
II not, leave Naples, and do not attempt
ever again to see ME or to speak to me,
either alone or in the world"
Before he could reply or demonstrate
she had touched handbell which stood
near her. One of the men of the ante
chamber answered.
'Show my lord 10 his carriage" she
said to the servant.
Guilderoy could not resist such dis
missal. He kissed her hand with the
slight salutation Of an acquaintance and
left her presence. The servant ushered
him with ceremony through the house
and out by the great gates of the sea front
He was scarce Y conscious OF what he did