The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-03-13


body without the soul? What use to give
him myself when l cannot give him my
Affections?
You will give them again when you
have seen him once more. You are dream
ing of coldness and of harshness that you
do not feel"
81 have ceased to dream long ago. I
know what life is too we'll. Dreams are
for the happy"
''Surely on your side -
ayes: loved him as one loves when
one is very young; but it Is dead In me;
1t is dead, dead, dead, tell you-like any
skeleton of any drowned creature that lies
at the bottom of that sea"
Aubrey turned from her, and walked to
and fro upon the turf before her. The
pain of the moment was almost beyond
his strength, well tutored though 1t was.
''You think So" he said after long
pause; "you think so because you are
hurt, indignant, and even more outraged
at his solicitation of forgiveness than you
were by his original desertion. But this
will pass away. You once loved my cousin
with passion if not with wisdom; he is
not a man whom women forget. When
he comes to you, you will consent to what
he wishes; you will pass over those
eighteen months OF bitterness, you will
only remember that you were once de-
voted to him, and that he was the man
who taught you the first meaning OF love,
and was the father of your dead childen."
"No. no, not" she said with violence.
"No-for ever no. His place is empty in
my heart. There is stone there; no
warmth no desire, no remembrance only
a stone-the stone which has the seal of
oblivion, the stone that you set on
grave!'
She threw herself on her knees beside
the wooden bench and buried her face in
her hands, and sobbed with the convul-
sive weeping which he had seen once be-
fore,
"Whv could not meet YOU first? You
would have been true to me-" she cried
in the passion of her tears, not knowing
what she said; knowing only that great
nature was wasted on her in vain, without
Joy to itself or gladness to her.
Aubrey sighed; his features changed
and his eyes filed with an unspeakable
yearning.
He saw that her heartin its Indignation,
its solitude. its want OF sympathy, and its
recognition OF sympathy, both of feeling
and of temperament, in him, turned to-
ward him instinctively as n beaten child
turns to those who will soothe and caress
it. He saw that with but little effort be
could detach her from what still remained
in her of love for his cousin, and lead her
humiliated and lonely soul to his, there to
find comfort if not Joy. He knew that he
had in him the power to console
her, the heart which could alone
meet and content her own; but he
knew, too, that it rested with him to
awake her to this knowledge or to let 1t
slumber in her unaroused forever. He
had never before deemed it possible. He
had been wholly sincer5shen he had told
his cousin that she cared nothing for him
self. But at this moment. in her whole
attitude, in the tears she wept, in the
broken words she muttered, he realized
| that it would not be a task beyond his
powers to make her see in him more than
| a friend, to lead her from gratitude TO
| other and warmer, emotions, to suggest to
| her that the greatest chastisement which
a woman can take upon faithless love is
| to find and make her life's happiness with
| out it. For a moment all his heart and
| all his senses made the temptation more
than he had strength to bear; but with an
| instants meditation he found force to re-
sist.
az should not have loved you in that
| sense, my dear" he said with lie which
was more heroic than any truth Long
ago / loved one woman madly, and she
was false to me. l would have told YOU
my story long ago, but | never thought
that you would care to hear it. l gave to
her all that man can give, and she re-
warded Inc by the lowest OF intrigues, the
foulest of infidelities. ] was very young
when she robbed my life OF all its color
and warmth. and left me only such cold
consolation as may lie in the pursuit of
public duties. But she closed my heart
TO passion for ever. / can feel affection
and devotion-I feel them both for you-
but nothing beyond those. Do not think
of me ever as a lover for any living
woman. The only mistress l shall ever
have in any sense OF love is England"
His voice was low and grave, and in
initely tender; his declaration was an
untruth, but it was nobler than all truth.
Gwen were it otherwise with me-" he
said, YEARLY, 81 could not, would not,
risk the accusation from my cousin and
the world that l had abused his trust in
me, that had taken advantage OF his alb
sence and your loneliness. I may mis-
take, and think that honor IN me which
is only selfishness, but this is what feel
and what would guide me if-if-yOu were
still dearer to me than you are
He paused, and his deep and labored
breathing sounded painfully upon the
country silence round them.
And if he added, 'if l be so urgent
with YOU to receive Guilderoy and reunte
your life to his it is because | feel that in
the earliest years of our acquaintance 1
perhaps did wrong in enlisting your con-
! fidence and giving you my sympathy. l
otter now blame myself; L perhaps helped
to ALLEVIATE YOU from him. perhaps
turned toward myself sympathies and con-
fidences which, had | not been there,
| might have found their way in time to
him. ] ask you, dear, to take this re-
morse from me. He has many lovable
qualities; he has many high talents; he
| feels sincerely toward you, il not warmly;
you may make his future such as his boy
| hood promised, if you care for him."
"But do not care"
She rose to her feet; her features were
stern and scornfu, her eyes were full of
passionate feeling burning through their
tears; he seemed TO her as cruel as Gull
| deroy had been, as the world had been, as
! life had been, caring nothing for her and
| her pain and her fate; caring only for the
] worlds opinion and a mans egotism, and
the mere pride OF race.
Then / have more remorse than 1
! thought, or than have strength 10 bear"
he said. as his eyes met hers for one mo-