The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-05-31
CHAPTER IL

At first be almost fancied that he had sue
ceeded in this design; but by degrees a GER
tain cyniC element IN his disposition pre-
vailed with gloomy results. After all, had
he not merely been the dupe OF a finished
eOquette? Might not the romantic novelty
in which Nine. d AutreYjlle had chosen TO
mantle her confession have been simply the
cruelty OF a barren and arid SOul9 Did she
deserve a CLEAN Of his compassion? More
than this, Was she not privately eXhilarated
by the anguish Of which she had made him
victim? Where was the necessity of such
a woman as she marrying again? her least
wish was now gratIned by the amplitude OF
those funds which her dead spouse had be-
Queathed her Every new lover PROSTATE
at her garments hem was new intoxict-
ton Of triumph. The world was full of just
such biGO1iess syTenS. and she lowered
malignly among them all a. a sinister queen.
What she deserved was not this tribute on
his own part of mOptag and weak-willed
fOrlOrnneSs. Punishment was indeed what
she deserved, and in MS altered and even
savage mood Stgyne found himself longing
for sumo fo-ceful means of infirting upon
her kind of counter-blow that she would
remember till the day Of her death.
Letters had meanwhile reached him from
the gay world beyond his placid mountain
retreat, and IN more than one OF these he
read OF hUrtense d AutTeviiie'S continued
merTlment and pastimes, dainty, fashion,
able, eXtrayagant. Such tidingS were Ill
suited TO lull the Yengefui tenor OF ms
musings. Ia early autumn he returned to
Paris, and, though accidentally made aware
that she was soJOurning at her town MOTEL
for two or three days before going To stay
w.Sh her friend, the Countess OF Gienaloan
in Somersetshjre, he almost at once started
for Havre, sailing thence 10 America.
During the next year, while passing his
time between New York and the smaller,
more Southerly town where he. was born,
Stayne not seldom dspOrted himself in the
most eccentric way. His Cd suaYity would
at times wholly leave him, and a morOse
curtness would take its place. Now and
then he wouf say irrelevant things or
plunge himself into fits Of silence which
were the DESPAIR of his entertainers. IL is
true that man of his extreme note might
have behaved far more cavalieTly and yet
received no open censure; but as it now
happened, he was forced to pay the penalty
OF being cons picuoHS A report got into
circulation that he was on the verge of de-
menua, II not already mad. Had not his
maternal uncle, Andreas Aubrey. died a
lunaiic, aud was il not well known that in
sanity had more than once cropped out with
ugly persistence 10 the Aubrey line?
friend al last told Stayne of the hard
things that were being said of him. The
informant was this time real friend, and
not, as so often happens in such cases. a
foe under the guse Of one Stayne knew
this. and hence felt the verify Of the tidiugs
bearing upon him with full force. At first
they annoyed him excessively. Then a
serse OF disgust heSet hin. and of indiffer-
ence as we'll But through both men
tai states besmed clearly 10 him certain
distinct realization. His life had grown pur-
poseless.
Nearly the most enviable man in the cOun-
try, he was yet one OF the least cOntented.
lie SAID something OF this SpTt TO the friend