The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1889-12-15

| aIcelNdrd 100 lote-ah too late Tor botn.
lie had after all heart, and though itseems
80 mo horrible that woman should not have
4! her sackcloth of pride to wrap herself in
when necessary, be would have been touched
In conscience and feelings, but it was too late
Quite accidentally heard that girl had
| known and loved as small child, Calista
! Winsley, was also yachting with those friends
| Of his, and in fash Of intuition, proceeding
! very likely from my recollection of that most
charming and clever child my art sank
and bled for poor Agatha. She heard nothing
of young lady on board until ono day there
was an account in the papers Of frightful
| storm in which this yacht had gone through
| several hours Of extreme peril, but at length
| had happily gained one of the southern ports
| damaged but in safety.
Agatha read this, painting and deadly
| white. Suddenly she looked me in the face,
with white set look painful TO witness
"Who is Miss Winsleyg" she asked.
/ told her briefly, and she said no more
This was the first time Agatha had shown
any reticence, and it was bad sign. It was
the first sowing of tho seed Jealousy in the
hot soil OF her heart.
What had happened never knew till long
after, but must tell ii here. Calista Winsley
was not one of those surprising beauties who
slay with glance, but there was charm in
her face, voice and manner that would re-
main charm long after paint, powder and
dye had been Intellectually resorted to by those
beauties in their hand to hand struggle with
uncourteous old time.
Pleased, attracted even at first sight before
many days Of close companionship, Capt
Haringield had gone far into the deeps Of q
very different sort Of love from that inspired
by poor Agatha.
Nothing might have come os it oven then,
but that that fatal storm revealed tho two to
one another, as moments of danger will do.
cannot blame the man very greatly. They
really thought their last hour had come and
as they were to die together, why not sweeten
the bitter hour by the uplifting joy Of ac-
knowledging what they had become to ono
anothers Such moments IRE not premedi-
tated; heaven keep our sea walls sound, be-
cause no one knows when the hurricane is ct
hand. Miss Winsley's ignorance Of his tie of
honor had helped, of colrse, to undermine
his bulwarks He landed in England, then,
bound in honor to one woman, and in Heart
and word to another, an uncomfortable
plight every one must acknowledge, even III
this age of light regard for such matters.
He avoided coming to town all that season,
and Agatha was dragged through the reg1la-
ton round Ike wild animal in leash
The owner of that yacht, however, and his
wife were in town, and from them rumor
came that Capt Haringfield was engaged to
Miss Winslcy. They thought it q pleasing
romantic finish to the stirring episode of the
storm.
As Agatha's whole interest lay in getting
people to talk even in the remotest fashion
about what concerned Capt. Haringfeld, and
as she displayed marvellous deal OF what |
may call cunning in this pursuit, the report
of this engagement was not long in coming
to her
never saw hope may never see again
"a creature so wildly distraught, so mad
against suffering as she was, when she ran in
to me, haggard and death pale, to tell me,
and to wrench from me an assurance that
it cou--. not be true.
She must have written q mad letter to him
for she wrote it at the dead of night, in spite
of my prayers, and posted it herself by day.
break.
Somehow blamed the man more for not
answering it by return of post than for any
thing else he had done, for whereas the rest
was the outcome of the weakness of human
nature, this, to me who saw Agatha dying
by inches in that suspense, seemed absolute
cruelty. And yet no doubt it was the bitter
est moment of life above the average in
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