San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-12-30
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Then how divinely long it all may
SEEM" he answered. But can we
not begin to think, and to make plans
for tomorrow, and the next day, and
for the years before us? That will
make more time for us for with the
present we shall have the future, too.
No-that is foolish again. And yet it
is so hard to say which | would have.
Snail the moment linger because it is
so sweetp Or shall it be gone quick
ly. because the next is to be sweeter
still? Love, where is your fatherP'
Unorna started. The question was
suggested, perhaps, by his inclina-
ton to speak of what was to be done,
but it fell suddenly upon her ears, as
a peal of thunder when the sky has no
clouds. Must she lie now, or break
the spell? One word, at least she
could vet sDeuk with truth
Dead"
"'Deadr' the Wanderer repeated
thoughtfully and with faint surprise.
lis it long ago, beloved?' he asked
presently, in a subdued tone, az
though fearing to wake some painful
memory.
Yes" she answered. The great
doubt was taking her heart in its
strong hands now, and tearing it and
twisting it.
And whose house is this in which
l found you, darlingP Was it his?"
1T is NINE" Unorna said.
How long would he ask questions
to which she could find truthful
answers? What question would come
next? There We're many he might
ask, and few to which she could re-
ply TO truthfully, even in that narrow
sense OF truth which found its only
meaning in a whispered chance. But
for moment he asked nothing more.
Not mine, she said. 1T is yours.
You can take me and yet call anyth NJ
mine
ours, then, beloved. What does
it matter? SO he died long ago
poor man! And yet il sc ms but a
little while since some one told mo
but that was mistake of course. He
did not know. How many years might
it be dear one? l see you still wear
mourning for him"
"NO-that was but a fanCy-tO-day.
He died-he died more than two years
ago
She bent her head. 1t was but a
poor attempt at truth-a miserable,
lying truth, to deceive herself with,
but it seemed better than 10 be the
whole truth outright, and say that her
father-Beatrice' father-had been
dead but Just week.
1T is strange" he said, chow lit
tie men know of each Others lives or
deaths They told me he was alive
last year. But, it has hurt you 10
speak of it. Forgive me, DEAR it was
thoughtless of me-"
He tried to lift her head, but she
held it obstinately down.
Have l panied you, Beatrice?" he
asked, forgetting to call her by the
other name that was so new to him.
"No-oh, no!' she exclaimed,
without looking up.
What is it, then?'
1tNOthinU-it iS nOthinC No I