The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1891-02-06
A NEW.YEAR'S ERROR.

moment before he had thrown down
in wondering anger and passionate
pain.
at is not like you to write such as
this, my false one. 1t is as if your
accusing conscience had made you
careless of your wonted precision and
daintiness," he murmured.
Defective in form as it was certain
", in substance it was impressive
enough.
~ do not wish to see vouagain, now
or ever. If / have ever allowed you
to suppose I cared for you it was be-
cause my family for the time had con-
fused my reason and dulled my sensi-
bility By their unceasins imPortu-
mites. To convince you this is true, l
will even confess without reserve that
l most ~fervently and devotedly love
another"
Rathvayne arose from his chair as
IL unconscious ofmotion, and distract
eddy paced the length of the room.
Hallway down the room he passed
a mirror, and he paused to glance
earnestly, almost fearfully at his re-
Fiction.
1t was indeed the look of a man
whose reason might be unsettled; and
in fact then, and for some little time
afterward, Alger Rathvayne was
scarcely his own natural self.
"Who is this other whom my ador-
ed false one loves?" he resumed, with
increasing agony and excitement. "Isit
Maimouth de We're who has s%upplant-
ed me in her affections-robbed me of
my ioy-who has cheated me of my
most precious treasure? And shall [
tamely submit to such injury and
affront? Well, 1 shall represent at the
reception tonight, and if our happy
idyi, our brief delicious dream, closes
in tragedy the blame and fault are
not mine"
1t was rather late that evening when
he was admitted into the elegant
Craig mansion.
The charming drawing-rooms were
quite empty, alike OF callers and
hostess.
As he entered a low tone-the eager,
triumphant tones OF Malmouth de
Vere-sounded from the spacious
conservatory just behind him.
Rathvayne's pallid face suddenly
flushed q dark angry crimson. His
fine eyes shot forth an unnatural fire.
One hand was abruptly thrust inside
his coat, and nervously clinched some
thing hidden there.
He pushed aside the silken, rosy
hangings, and gazed searchingly down
the long, perfumed aisles OF greenery
and bloom.
The next instant he started and
impulsively stepped back within the
screen of the heavy protiere.
Undera tall, blossoming orange tree,
SO near that he could almost have
touched her with an outstretched
hand, stood his fair, idolized Van
eSSa.
Her proud golden head was very
erect at the instant, and her great,
luminous blue eyes were fixed with
something like wonder upon the smll-
ing young gentleman before her.
:'Nhy do you pretend coy indiffer-
ence now, my queen? Have you not
admitted that you care for me?'
Malmouth de We're was saying.
Alger Rathvayne set his white teeth
sharply upon his neither lip.
"Ah | could STAY them both. had
rather lay her dead at my feet thenlet
her live to belong to the brainless,
soulless society butterfly who has
stolen her from me-" he murmured to
himself.
And again one shapely hand was
thrust within his coat to tumble the
deadly thing there concealed.
And then, all at once, his saner,
nobler self asserted the supremacy.
A sudden shudder shook his handsome
figure from head to foot.
''Great heaven! Ihave been mad
absolutely mad!" he thought. But l
am myself again, and l want no
towards vengeance"
He stepped to a window and drew
something from his coat. The moon
shine flashed upon it for a second, and
then it fell ringing upon the frozen
snow far out from the lawn.
''She is safe now" he said to him.
self.
And during that singular depression
he could still see the sheen of her vio-
let gown, and hear her soft low voice.
..There is some absurd mistake. L
do not care for you, and l eve can
care" Rathvayne heard her say.
His gloomy eyes frightened and the
blood surged to his pallid face.
"What did you intend me to think
by your delightful little note, my pet?"
De We're asked.
at was plain enough" Vanessa an
swered. impatiently. II meant you
to understand that [ wished to
see you no more; that [ had
only been kind to you because my
family were always pleading for you,
and that 1 loved another"
But you didn't write that" said
De We're, producing q dainty note,
fastidiously lettered upon the most
delicate of violet-tinted paper.
Vanessa caught it with q startled
1:I41o o,,- - rwof o,5 mortIEoo+ioo