The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1891-02-15
TX.

TX.
On certain afternoon Gerald woke to
the conviction that he had been treating
his brother shamefully. But the blunt
truth was simply that he had been forget
ting, all this while, if such . person IS
Sylvan Maynard were in existence. His
thoughts would not dwell for longer than
a brief space on any subject save one.
This woman whom he had brought back
from death haunted him always, with her
bronxe-brown hair and her dark eyes
tinged by fiickers of tawny light. He
found himself clothing the whole incident
Of her rescue from death in colors of pic
torial appeal He imagined her draperied
figure standing on the Threshold of a
tomb whose inky back ground symbolized
death itself, while she stretched forth
glad hand to the lamp he bore, and caught
its rays upon her kindling eyes and part
ing lips. He would have liked to be
an artist, If just for short inter
val, and paint this picture. He
felt the desire to paint it grow
all the keener when he was first admitted
20 the chamber where she sat. Mrs.
Brawne had been very kind to her, but if
Gerald had given closer glance into the
face Of his landlady he might have noted
that the serene stolidity there was touched
by an expression as of restrained anxiety.
For Mrs. Brawne had not been by any
means dull enough to fail of seeing a
wildly improper glare about certain recent
occurrences in her establishment. What
means had been used for continuing the
former current of her complaisance Gerald
never knew and never thought to ask
himself. Crawford Clyde might easily
have told him, and bank-notes would
have been the terms, as it were, of such
intelligence. But Gerald, who had
lately trod on air, was in no state for
cold deductions of effect from cause. He
had every belief that when they met on
the morning after their fatal experience
with the elixir, she on whom il had acted
SO astonlshingly would quite have recov-
cred her lost remembrance of the past. 1t
gave him sharp shock to find that this
was by no means the case.
.'Still, she said to him, s.all is blank"
He seated himself beside her, and for a
long time they talked together as though
nothing strange had occurred. Her sad
ness now and then gave way to transient
mirth; It was like the parting mists and
the glimpsing of blue heaven behind them.
But the mists Of oblivion were more stub
born; these would not divide Meanwhile
they spoke Of books that both had read, of
poetry, music, art. A new and peculiar
feeling began to steal over Gerald. 1t was
like a sense of possessorship, proprietor
ship. Death had given him this charming
woman for his very own. She had been;
she was now once more, newly, and for
him-altogether for him! This meant the
reward of his labors. He had done her the
service of bringing her back to life, and in
surrendering her death did SO royalty. as
all kings should do.
That afternoon he said to Clyde, when
the latter came and before he had seen
her: "You will find Perdita quiet and in
q way contented."
"Perdita ?" queried Clyde. "You know
her name, them"
~ call her that in my thoughts, for want
of another name"
ooh. really"
Indeed, have confessed to her that
call her so and asked permission to ad-
dress her by this name whenever we now
meet"
us it possible?" returned Clyde. with
much dryness. "All of which means. I
suppose that the lady still recollects moth
ing"
Nothing" said Gerald, soberly. On q
sudden he frightened and went on: '.In
one sense she recollects a great DEAL It is
simply the question of tcho she s0as that es-
capes her. Otherwise she is full of the
most refined past influences, "reminiscences,
associations. oh! my dear Clyde. you have
hut to know her and the charm of her
presence will penetrate you completely"
CLYDE pulled at his mustache for an in
slant and looked down. II think I'd
rather not be penetrated quite as COM
pletely as yourself he said, still with the
same dryness.
Gerald drew himself up somewhat
haughtily. "What do you mean?" he
asked
Mean? Why, my dear Gerald, that
you've lost your head over 'Perdita,' as
you call her with such romantic felicity"
Lost my head? Nonsense. T."
You're gone my dear boy-fatally gone.
Don't glare at me. It's no use. Cholera
sometimes will bowl a man over lust as
suddenly--or sun-stroke. But imagined
love didn't. 1t hasn't mem m-I1l 60
and see our patient"
that perhaps Gerald had fallen victim to
the trap set by some shrewd adventures.
After all. those men whom he had bribed
10 cheat the morgue of its lawful fotsam
and jetsdm-how did he know of what de-
ceit they were capable? They were fellows
of no special character, those night-river
providers. Why might they not-3 But he
tried TO strangle these new suspicious at
their birth, and went into the chamber
where Gerald's enchantress reclined, beau
tiful past all doubt, and with look of
wistful worriment in her shadowy ewes
that seemed TO reproach him for the dis
trust she had unconsciously reused
From the standpoint of the physician
Clyde was disappointed in her state
Gerald had described it as wholly health
full except for her failure to recall the facts
which intimately concerned her identity,
and here it soon struck his friend that
Gerald had judged most i'll. The pulse
was feeble and spasmodic, implying a
threat ofheart failure; the repose of man.
ner was induced more by exhaustion than
wholesome sense of rest. la little while
Clyde had assured himself that the deser-
ton of memory, however remarkable.
could not be assumed. He detected no
further signs of the intense dread and
gloom which he had noticed in her on the
previous night. But this half mournful
Indifference, touched by little flashes of
good spirits, bore With it no hopeful
augury.
she seems 20 be living an artificial
life - he fhonrht GOOD heavens wba.