Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1891-08-27

Itllel Ol tears came rcduliy. lt seemed
rather as if her passion spent its forct
inwardly. until her heart felt full tC
bursting with the inrushing torrent Of
pain. Dry eyed and outwardly so quiet
with all her cool thoughtfulness and
housewifely painstaking, that long
nights vigil had been a rack of torture
u~nspeakable, leaving her spent and worn
as from long illness; and there was a SEN
sation of passionate relief in lying rest
fully back in the luxurious car, feeling
that those dark hours were left behind,
that her feet vera fairly acros the rubi-
con of hesitation. For in all her mad
hurrying she had not been able to stihe
the wifely instinct that would bid heI
pause and measure well this step, to
weigh more carefully this punishment
she was melting out to Donald. Octopus
like, duty seemed clinging, striving to
hold her back, but her mad passion but
strove the more to wrench her free from
that insistent grip. She knew that in
spired deviltry could have devised nc
revenge more cruel to Donald, and the
demon that possessed her but laughed
the more hideously in triumph at the
thought.
And now the fateful step was taken.
OF no avail to question the consequences
now, to measure the right and wrong.
1t only remained to keep her glance
from wandering backward-to look only
to the goal ahead 1t seemed SO clear
before her staring eyes-the stretch of
warm toned gray walls, the old weather
stained chapel at one side, rising, isolate
as a ship at sea, from the vast stretch of
hot, cacti blotched plains. She could
even fancy the quivering radiations of
heat in the air, and see the lizards sun
ming themselves by the wall. But within
that old Enclosure, grim as a fortress,
would be brightness and welcome, and
best of all. cool, refreshing rest. 1t was
always cool in the dim sala, where her
mothers hammock used to swing, the
great silken hammock with its fringes
Of parti-colored %tassels, at which Anita
had pulled as a child, calling them
flowers. Time wouldhave forgotten that
quiet sala; nothing ever changed in that
fair dreamland. where life slumbered on
in eternal slumber.
The old hammock was hanging there
today in the lulling half lights, and the
perfume Of heliotrope and jasmine was
stealing in among the shadows, as fresh
and sweet as a dozen years ago. Before
the wide arched doorway the same old
diminishing triangle of sunshine would
be spread on the worn red tiles; and as
one lay in the hammock he would look
out into the patio. where the palms were
grudgingly sitting the sunbeams through
their 1.-the fingers, and purpling figs were
bursting with sweetness among their
escaloped leaves. One would catch the
red flash of the p~omegranate blossoms,
like lunches of crumpled silk; roses
would be crowding their red cheeks to-
gether, wantonly begging the hot kisses
of the sun; and all the warm air would
seem sensuously aquiver with the flower
bells ringing out their sweet summons
to the heart of man to rejoice and be
glad.
Yet even into this dream the thought Of
Donald must intrude. They had so often
talked Of taking this trip together, in some
happy holiday time! Would he guess
at once where she had gone, and follow,
she wondered, a cold disgust creeping
over her at the thought of looking upon
his face again. Her heart seemed numb
and cold, only dead ashes there in place
Of the love that had but yesterday
burned so fiercely. Anything but the n
thing he had done. she bitterly told
herself for the hundredth time, she
might have forgiven him. Had he but
come to her in the masterful spirit of a
man. and said, II like these people, and
| will have nothing to do with your
whims and prejudices; | shall go with
them and amuse myself" Had he but
been bravely honest about it. however
her Jealous heart might have protested,
she could still have looked up to him
with the doglike love of a woman. But
when he had driven her to despise him,
with his puerile, cajoling lies. it was as
if that part of her nature that had thrilled
in response to his had been suddenly
stricken with paralysis
What would he say, what new lie
would he invent, when he came and
found her: For she was perfectly sure
that sons day he would come and find
her, with clumsy, masculine endeavor to
smooth it over. He would say that the
hunting expedition had disappointingly
fallen through, and the Rogerses had
been 50 pressing in their kindly hospi.
tality that he had not been able to escape
them; or he had merely stopped with
them for the night in order to make al
early start for the ascent of the peak, a
trip be had always been longing to make,
and which he could scarce be expected
to resist when at last the opportunity
came; or perhaps he would deny the
story. For the first time, as she
imagined his excuses, Anita faltered for
a moment in her vengeful purpose, wish
ing she had but waited a day to read the
letter which even now probably was wait
ing for her in the Office. She felt a bitter
curiosity to know what he would say for
himself. 1t might have been more just,
more kind, to have halted to hear his
side. and yet-with a fierce clinching of