Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1889-03-16

when we oil yield you 20 readily in spirit
Tell Mr.. Kendall were almost her last words
to me. that cannot say how much love to
his influence and his friendshir He nrst
opened my eyes to 20 many things He was
90 kind to me even when he thought least Of
me- hope shall win . word Of praise frosA
him yetr Therei trust that will rouse .
little pleasant conceit IN you. 6he n,sant u,
and it is true. must 60 on and work at
many things. To morrow or next day, after
some further talk with her, shall set OF
homeward, look up Forbes and begin opera
tions. She will be in town about three weeks
from now--as you know she 10 going to stay
first with your sister In Paris-and then We
shall have hard work till about the middle
Of November, when I suppose the play will
be produced. This will bc more than fort
night later than she intended TO open, and
Mr.. Worrall will probably be furious over
the delay, but she has dcvelopNl will Of her
own lately.
"au revoir, then. You must have had .
peaceful summer with your book and your
heather wish l had anything like tho
same digestion for work that you have;
mover saw man get as much pleasure out OF
his books as you do. To me, confess, that
work is always work, and idlencss a joyl
However, MOI more idleness for mo for q
good while to come. How grandshe will be In
that last acti Where were my eyes last
springi wish there were chance Of her
seeing much that is interesting In Paris
However, fiat as September generally IL, she
will get some Moliere at the 'Francais,' and
your sister will take care that she sees the
right people. Perrault, hear, Is to give hsr
lessons under tho rose Happy mani"
Kendall read this letter on glowing Au
gust morning rs he walked homeward along
tho side Of the pond, where the shade Of the
fir trees was O welcome protection against
the rising heat and the air was fragrant with
the scent Of the ling, which was just out in
all its first faint flush Of beauty. He threw
himself down among il after he had finished
the sheets and stared for long at the sunlit,
motionless water, his hat drawn forward
over his brows. So this was the outcome OF
1t ALL Isabel Bretherton was about to be-
come great actress-Undine had found her
soul
It seemed to him, as he lay there buried in
the ling, that during the past three weeks he
had lived through whole drama Of feeling
"a drama which had its beginning, its COM
plications, its climax. While il had been
going on he had been only half conscious Of
its bearings, half conscious Of himself. Wal.
lace's letter had made him sensible OF tho sit
uation, as it concerned himself, with deci-
sive sharpness and completeness. There was
no possibility Of any further self delusion;
the last defenses were overcome, tho last veil
between himself and tho pursuing force
which had overtaken him had fallen, and
Kendall, with shiver u pain, found him
self looking straight into the wide, hungry
eyes Of Lowell oh, was this love-sore de-
sire, this dumb craving, this restlessness Of
the whole beingl
The bees hummed among tho heather,
every now and then little brown strealRed
lizard rustled family beside him, pair OF
kingflshers flashed across the pond. But ho
saw and heard nothing, responsive as every
sense In him commonly was to tho details OF
the wild life about him. His own miserable
reverie absorbed him What was 1t that
had made the charm of those early weeks In
July Immediately after his parting with hort
What was It which had added zest to his
work, and enchantment to the summer beauty
Of tho country, and, like q hidden harmony
dimly resonant within him, had kept life
tuneful and delightful He could put words
to it now. 1t had been nothing less than
settled foresight, a deep conviction Of Isabel
Bretherton's failurel What a treacheryi
But, yes-the vision perpetually before his
, eyes had been the vision Of a dying fame,
waning celebrity, forsaken and dscrowned
beauty! And from that abandonment and
that failure no had dimly foreseen the
rise and upspringing Of new and indescrib-
able Joy. He had seen her, conscious OF de-
feat and of the inexorablo limits OF her own
personality, turning to tho man who had
read her truly and yet had loved her, surely,
from the very beginning, and finding In his
love fresh glory and an oil sufficient conso-
lation. This had been tho inmost truth, tho
center, the kernel Of all his thought, OF all his
life. He saw it now with sharp distinctness
now that every perception was intensified
by pain and longing.
Then as he went over the past, no saw
how this Consciousness had been gradually
invaded and broken up by his sisters letters
He remembered tho incrcdulous impatience
with which he had read the earlier ones. So
Marie thought him mistaken! Isabel Breth-
erton would DO an actress yet'-"she had
genius after all'--"she was learning, grow
ing, developing every day.n Absurd He
had been able to keep his critical estimate Of
the actress and his personal admiration OF
the woman separate from ono another. But
evidently Marie's head had been confused,
misled by her heart. And then little by lit
tie his incredulity had yielded and his point
Of view had changed. Instead Of impatience
of Marie's laxity of judgment, what he had
been fiercely conscious Of for days was jeal-
ousy Of Paul do Chateauvieux- jealousy Of
his opportunities, his influence, his relation
towards that keen, sweet nature That, too,
had been one Of his dreams Of the future
the dream Of tutoring and training her young,
Uniformed intelligence. He had done some
thing towards it; he had, as 1t were, touched
the spring which had set free oil this now and
unexpected store Of power. But, IL he had
planted, others had watered and others would
reap. In this great crisis Of her fortunes he
had been nothing to her. Other voices and
other hands had guided and directed her.
Her kindly, grateful messages only stung and
tortured him. They seemed to him the mer-
est friendly commonplace In reality her
| life had passed out Of his ken; her nature
had lowered into u new perfection, and he
had not been there to see or to help. She
would never connect him with the incidents
or the influences which had transformed ex
istence to her, and would probably irrevoca
| bly, change the whole outline Of her future
Once he had wounded and startled her and
| had despaired for awhile Of undoing the i'm
! preston made upon her But now he felt nc
| quick anxiety, no fear how things might
| turn, only a settled fiat consciousness Of di
vision, of a life that had once been near to hi;
| swept away from him forever, Of divergine
roads which no kindly fate would ever joir
again.
For, by tho end OF this time Of solitary
waiting, his change Of attitude was complete
1t was evident to him that his anticipation
Of her failure, potent as 1t had been over hii
life had never been half so real, half 81
| vivid, as this new and strange foreboding q
her true success Marie must DO right. LII
had been a mere blind, hair splitting pedant
judging Isabel Bretherton by principles anC
standards which left out of count tho inborl
energy, the natural power Of growth. Of suct
| a personality as hers And the more he haI