Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1891-05-08

When she had sung the he went back
to seat near Mrs. Moore, and came no
more near Vida that night.
But to Ruth he showed q gentle courtesy
expressive Of his sympathetic feeling, and
as il so CHANGED, Mr.. and Mrs. Moore wer,
engaged with each other, talking OF Basil
and the future.
Without any design they left Vida TO her
self, but in IL she saw systematic 2yold
ance Of her.
Conscious guilt prompted the thought, an6
In her heart she hated and despised them
all.
Shortly after ten o'clock she stole awayt to
her room and shut herself In.
Then she took retrospective view Of her
past, and II was not at all satisfactory. Sh'
saw the mad folly she had been guilty o.
and repented so far as regards herself.
She was sorry she had woven such ter
rible net about herself, but did not regre'
the misery and pain she had given TO others
II would do IL all over again." she saif
fiercely, "only l would do it better. | an
not Moore-theye Is nothing soft, or gentle,
or forgiving in me. 1t is my mothers blood
the blood Of the old Castllians-tha burn
in my veins.
I'VE love too well for ourselves, and hate
By-and-by Ruth came and knocked gently
at her door.
"Vida dear, are you asleep"
Vida would not answer, but stood quite
still, with a scornful smile upon her face,
until Ruth went away.
81 cannot play the loving cousin tonight"
she inuttered. IF she had come in, the
temptation to stab her might have been too
great"
From the folds Of her dress she took out
the small highly-.empcred dagger with
which she had taken Bardolph Dimsey's
life. The keen blade was in leathe-n
/ sheath. and removing it, she held the gilt
terng dangerous toy at arm s-lcngth, and
hooked at it with fierce light burning III
the depths of her dark eyes.
You were friend to me-" she 81 d.
"You saved me from fate more bitter than
death. By-and-by, when PANIED into cor
ner by my enemies you shall save me
again."
Ere she slept she had recourse to one OF
the bottles on her toilet-tablc containing an
essence that has been the bane of many wo-
men. The dangerous indulgence had be-
come the habit of her life.
Inconsistencies Of things around her shc
obtained, but it was not blessed sleep that
came 10 her aid.
1t was another stage Of consciousness,
vivid and h rible.
The dreams Of the opum-ea.er were not
more terrible.
Like him she felt an unnatural lghtness,
and yet had the weight of the Atlantic in
her heart. A bright light surrounded her,
and yet ii seemed akin to unfathomable
darkness.
No one was visible but she could hear the
tramp of men as If an army We're passing
by, and the shrek OF women in peril OF
shame and death.
She was not here or there in any particu-
lar place, but in many familiar scenes at
once, and il seemed 10 her rs il her spirit
had swollen 10 infinite size and WAS surging
to and fro like the restless sea.
What words can depict the horror Of such
night? And it is no wonder, then, when
she awoke and found daylight had come
that she hailed it as friend.
IF that is sleep which have endured"
she said as she looked forth from the case
mcnt, II wish to sleep no more. Let me be
vakeful and watchful to the end"
A bird on tree close by began 10 chrrup
morning-song to its mate. stimulated by
the early sunshine.
She listened, but lis sweetness Of sound
found no echo in her heart.
The little feathered fool" she said, "be-
lieves in love. But at the best ii is but .
feetng thing.
Summer will soon pass, and when the
cold OF winter comes, your mate VIII leave
you. But Is is, perhaps, something to be
loved while. Even one brief hour Of love
has been denied me-"