Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1890-10-02

I leaned forward, drinking In eagerly
every detail of his dress and form and
face, noting, in one second. all the
changes OF two years. A noble form, q
brightly happy face; no trace Of long,
unsatisfed heart-yearning there.
had forgotten that he was Viola's
husband All memory OF Sir Edwards
hopes had vanished from my mind. One
little incident recalled it all AS gazed
he took Viola, laughingly and with gen.
tie force, from her dark companions
arms and conducted her In merry tn
umph into the house himself, the other
following gayly.
think the cry of anguish that broke
from my lips at that sight would have
had its way, though all the world had
stood by to hear. Lost to me-fostl The
| man I NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. once had
waited, hoped, and prayed through weary
yeazs-lost! losti. given to another
woman, and caressing her before my eyesl
Oh, heaven what was pride or the
worlds opinion worth to me in that bit
ter hour2"
sank down in the bottom of the car
riage and cried aloud. The rattle of the
wheels upon the stony road prevented my
being heard. Nowhere else could be so
utterly unheeded and alone; never again
could give way to such abandon of
misery. Tomorrow I should be my cold.
ised bride. Tonight I was Frank Bas-
comes faithful lover, forsaken, heart
broken and despairing. I sent up an
exceeding bitter cry to heaven for the
love I so priced and had lost.
Oh, to recall the past-the fatal, cruel.
torturing past-that is gone beyond all
reca1ll Had he been true to me at the
first, after all? Did I wrong him, as he
said-as he swore? Was it the mad folly
of my own jealousy that first put the
thought of Viola into his mind? Was it
my own hand that had struck down the
happiness of my life?
Van, vain questioning. to which there
never comes an answering voice. One
thing alone was given me to know surely
that I loved him, and had lost him
foreverl ....
A long, long night of tears and jealous
This night I will give to grief" I
thought; -all the rest Of my life to en-
The gray light of dawn stole in at nv
window before at last sobbed myself to
sleep. hgf
Ny maid awoke me, standing by my
bed I was bewildered at first; then sud-
denly the recollection of my grief re-
turned like q fresh calamity. I hid my
face upon the pillow with groan.
Ny bead aches sadly. Rose, why did
you wake me?"
The girl looked distressed.
a lady was here to see you, miss.
It's ten O'Clock. I told her you were
asleep, and she said she'd come again in
an hour. Here is her card, miss.
took it istlessly. What was the lady
to me?
7 will not see her, Rose, whoever she
is"
Then road the card: Mrs. F. Bas-
come" She! I let it fall as if a snake
had stung me. 6he-she seeking mel I
sprang up from the bed.
Dress me quickly, Rosa loose
white wrapper only. Tell them to send
cup of tea to my boudoir; when the lady
comes again show her up there"
OF course must receive Viola. APP
pearances must be considered.
Why did she force herself on me?
That question racked my brain. Had he
told her Of our love In those old days,
and had she come to feed her pride upon
my sorrow? Oh. but she shall lose her
time, thenl Last night has gone, like all
the rest of the sweet and bitter past-to-
day finds me Sir Edwards promised
bride.
Viola stole into the darkened boudoir
like stray sunbeam in a gloomy day.
1t is easy for happy hearts to be gay and
bright. How easy for herI She had
stolen my share of life's sunshine to add
to her own.
you poor dear grill" she murmured,
gently drawing my unwilling head to
her breast, and softly caressing my hair.
How glad l am to see you again, and
how sad it is that you are suffering! I
suppose it seems cruel of me to persist in
talking to you to-day, but I must Chris
tine, for your own sake and another's.
I felt my face flush He had told her,
then, and the little fool thought to set
herself right with me, perhaps. I would
not suffer it
Il fear I must beg you to excuse me to-
day" said, Jelly. L expect visitor
shortly, for whom I must prepare. Sir
Edward Vane, my future husband"
She stopped me with cry of horror.
No, no. Christine; don't say that. You
don't know that man, dear. No woman
who knew him would marry him. He is
bad. He is wicked, he is heartless,
Christine. His first wife died OF his
cruelty. l assure you his character IS
known in London we'll, and still better in
the village where the fine estate lies of
Oh, Christine! all those who love you
would rather see you in your grave. I
promised Frank I would tell you. He
would not let me rest until came.
Christine, we stayed near Sir Edwards
home for while. Oh, Christine THE
lovely, earnest, sympathetic eyes watched
me now through streaming tears--ohs
Christine, pause before you ruin your
whole life. VIII you marry this wretch
just because he is rich and titled? Can
wealth atone for the want OF respect and
love? For the sake of the old love you
once bore Frank-Flank who loves you
| so we'll"
But stopped her there. The passion
Of her words had fairly borne me down
and carried me beyond my proud reserve.
I forgot my pride. remembered only
| my wrongs, my love, my pain.
| You say this?" cried, trembling with
passion. ~You speak TO me of Franks
love? You-you---
] Resentment and anguish choked me.
burst into a storm Of weeping. She
drew away from me, startled and sub
dued.
4 am sorry if I have done wrong, she
] said half tinnidlz II hnt rialdad to rouI