San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-11-14

Dne nau lOSJ everything now. IL was all
over for her; what did this matter at the
end of it?
She said to him presently, in a strange
mechanical way, almost without any
emotion
You want to tell other people pow,
do you not2 You have come to warn
me, as you promised you would, before
you told any N my secret? l always
trusted to your promise, even when |
feared you most,-for L did fear you at
tell it.. | wonder if you would wait one
week frst?" And then she lifted her
eyes slowly up to him again. II would
only ask you not to speak for one more
week, and then after that--you are a
good man, l think, and if you saw af-
terward that there was no more use in
doing it,-perhaps then you would not
speak at all. l don't mind very much,
| think,-only, if you would give me
this one week."
She said this in a slow, cold, almost
dreamy way; and he, as was natural,
misunderstood her altogether, and, for
the first time since he had entered the
room, lost all pity for her in indigna-
ton. For that she could calmly ask
him to give her the advantage of an
other weeks silence that she might
complete her plans las he understood
her and make his interference impo-
tent, seemed to him the very summito of
audacity. He answered her quickly,
with the color in his face
You a hardly think that l shall be
willing to remain silent for another
week, if my doing so should end-as
you seem to hope it may-in making it
useless for me to speak at all. How can
you even ask me such a thing? Heaven
knows, Mrs. Hill, l have not wanted to
injure you," the young man said earn
estly. II have kept your secret faith
fully till now; but when | see you do
ing-what you have been doing of late
(yOu must forgive me if l am forced to
speak plainly; when l see you permit
ing a man like Mr.. Dunstan to become
attached to you, while you keep him in
Ignorance flor l firmly believe you hare
kept him in i%gnorance) of your past his
tory,-then you force me to interfere,
and to warn you that if you do not tell
the truth to him L will tell it."
Il hare told it to him." she said in a
low voice.
He turned upon her sharply and sus-
piciously.
when did you do it?" he said. "He
did not know it 1 am certain, a couple
of days ago."
81 have written it to him." she said.
still in the same stony l~ifeless way. II
gave him the letter when he was here
tonight. He is going away, you know;
he is to read it after he has gone. If
you have no more pity, tell it to the
others if you like" she said YEARLY.
las l said, l don't think it matters
much now. l should like them not to
know-and / have never done them any
harm, l think, and you might be silent
for his sake-if you care for him,-be-
cause it would give him pain perhaps;
but still, if you think it right, it doesn't
matter much. You see he is so merci-
ful-he isn't like other men," she said
quietly, but with only a kind OF half
Conference.
And then he made no answer to her;
he sat, not knowing what to answer, for
the helpless, wandering speech had
moved him in such a strange way.
Was she acting, he thought to him
self, or was she really what she seemed,
to be-honeSt and broken-hearted? He
tried to fOrtify himself against her, and
said inwardly-''She is very clever: if
she thought that a tone like this would
serve her she is quite capable of assum-
ing it," but then he looked at her, and
he could not believe that she was act
play a part, would she have chosen, as
the best to select, such a one as this?
Would she not rather have become in
dignant, and have attempted some de-
Tense, or some denial of what he charg-
ed her with. or have tried at least to
learn whether or not he believed the
accusations that had been made against
her? But for him or for what he thought
of her she seemed to have no car at all;
such and such facts were true-theSe
she allowed; one thing it was in his
power to do for her-she asked him to
do it; the rest seemed all as if it was
something she had no concern with
something that she did not think of or
a r about.
He said to her grayely after a consid-
cradle silence
''If you have told your story to MI.
Dunstan 1 have no right and no desire
to interfere with you any further. lido
not know that you are called upon to
tell it to any one else but him. For my
self-if 1 had known that youhad writ
ten to him before | came to you just
now, do me the justice to believe that L
would not have spoken a word to you
or have given you the pain of discover
ing that l know your secret: but L
thought you had not told him, and that
you did not mean to tell him, and Icare
too dearly for his welfare to believe it
my duty to sit still and see him de-
ceived."
She looked at him when he said this,
but it was only with a dreamy, half I'M
derstanding look. She seemed as il she
could not rouse herself enough to fol-
low what he said clearly, or to compre-
bend what was in his mind.