San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-11-05

suffered most bitter ana cruel sorrow.
Do you see-I can look in your face,
and repeat-''1Or no fault of mine" If
it were otherwise | should have no
right to ask you what am doing. But
have been punished for no sin of mine,
End therefOre-becauSe | am woman
who has suffered unjustly almost more
than | have had strength to bear,-be-
cause have come here to find resigna-
ton, If can,-to find something like
forgetfulness and peace,-because If
you drive me away, am so weary and
heart broken that you will do some
thing more cruel than if you killed me
for all these reasons, though l am a
stranger to you, and though | can I'M
derstand what you must think of such
request, dare ask you to have pity,
on me, and-if it should be in your pow
er to do it-not to tell my story"
She had spoken at first with flush
upon her face, but that flush had grad
ually, died away, her emotion as she
went on speaking giving this special
sign of intensity, that every drop of
blood, as if in an agony, passed gradu-
ally away from cheek and lip. Only
the dark gray eloquent eyes that had
fixed themselves on the young mans
face seemed to have life left in them
when she became silent.
He had been thinking to himself, as
most people in the circumstances would
have thought-"She must be out of her
mind" and his FIRST impulse when she
paused was to say to her kindly and
soothingly-
81 assure you know nothing about
you that could by anypossibility repeat.
| hope you will not distress yourself
further by any fears of this sort. /
really do not know in the least whether
| have ever seen you in any other place
than this, but it is most unlikely that,
even if should have done so, the re-
memberance of where l had happened
to meet you should teach me anything
whatever about your history. 1t is
wholly unlikely; pray believe that"
mo, it is not unlikely" she replied.
And then they walked on for a few
steps in silence before, with sad sort
of patience in her voice, she began to
speak again.
"You think / am mad" she said.
"Yes-yOu need not say anything-I
know you think that, and l do not won
der at it. l will not even dispute with
you about it, if only you will give me
your promise to do what l ask;-for l
think that if you give your promise you
will keep it-even to mad woman"
she said sadly and half bitterly. Look
Il ask you just for one thing-to
promise me that il you ever come to
is. you will tell it to no one here. Mr..
Gilbert, will you do this?"
II hardly think that you are justified
in, fryinn IN avtro nf Su0h q rrpD,ico from,
me" the young man said with some
uneasiness. 1T is possible that there
may be circumstances"
II will ask you for something less
them" she interrupted him quickly.
Promise me only that, if you are ever
tempted to tell my story, you will give
me warning before you do it,"
He hesitated again. II think even
yet you ask too much" he said,-''too
much, that is, If there is anything at all
in what you have been saying. Sup
pose were to learn your story, how
can tell what sudden occasion for tell
ing it might arisep l will promise you
one thing, If you Hke-I will promise
you never to tell it, unless such an oc-
casion should arise (supposing that it
should ever be in my power to tell it at
ALL, without giving warning to YOU"
IF you do that, that will satisfy me.
I may trust you then? you promise me
that" she said eagerly. ..r.
"Yes-if you wish it, I promise that"
''Then / need not trouble you any
longer"
And she stopped suddenly in the path;
but when she stood still, before she left
him, she looked into his face with her
sad, passionate eyes, and
do you think that it has not been an
agony to me to ask you thisp" she said
abruptly. IF could have done any
thing else-anything at least that would
have been less bitter-do you think that
| would not rather have done itp But
1 did not know what to do; my choice
lay between appealing to you and going
away,-and Ihad no place to go to. You
say you could not injure me because
you do not know my story; well-thank
God that you do not know it! But how
could L reckon on your not knowing it
before / spoke to your How can tell
even yet that you may not find out that
you know it at any moment? Have pity
on mel" she cried suddenly-''if it is
only for this thought, that 1 have to
humble myself so to yOu,-and that l
am proud woman!"
Il do pity YOU" he said gravely.
And then, after moments silence
Il hope you will believe" he added,
THAT the last thing should wish to do
would be, by any act of mine, to add TO
what you may already have suffered. 1t
is very unlikely even to be in my power
to do that. but, even if il should be, you
may trust me that | will not do it will
ingly." ...
He held out his hand to her as he
said these last words, and as she gave
him hers there came for the first time
look of softness in her face, and even