San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-01-16

/
Not of the dead past. but of the Twin,
present, seemed the thoughts of both
and she went on as though not inter
rupted:
And you remember how | TESTED
about her and Elaine? Poor little Elaine
She-the type of weakness and unresist
ance in that grand epic of the passions
was the type of woman, too. And Elaine
of our day went--downward with the
fiOodw
| The man stood still, his face in full
light. Over it passed a Pickering mem
Dry; but an impatient gesture was his
sole reply.
"Ah, strange, truly, are those revenges
brought in by the whirligig of time"
Edith went ON slowly. "But stranger still
the reversal of that epics moral; for
twas godlike Arthur's self from whom
Launcelot would have borne her back
|, to-
On his face the memory came back,
deepening to wondering pain; but he
only gasped: ...
Great Godl You know?'
Eyes, know" she answered in I'M
changed tone. THE clash of sabers by
moonlight is too romantic not to make
echo, and sudden vanishing of maidens
from enchanted towers may be followed
by quest too eager even for most dis
Greet ogres to keep secret. Besides,
Capt. Arnold entertained us at Newport
that summer; and you know what sleeves
young officers are!'
"And the-she fled from him after that
night?' There was neither pain nor
eagerness in Latour's voice-only dull
curiosity.
'Yes; she fled from New Orleans.
But"-and genuine surprise crept into
the woman's voice-"do you mean that
you did not know"
"No; how should I?' and he resumed
his restless pacing on the sand.
But in all these years have you never
made inquiry about herr
Never once. Why should II" he an
swered steadily. "Since the last night
l saw You on the Hudson-that night
she sold herself as pasha sells his fe-
male slave-her name has never passed
my lips" %n'-
Edith rose quickly, as though from
impulse, advancing step toward him.
But you-loved her then?' she asked
in low, eager voice. ......
did l? Perhaps" His voice was
calm and steady as he added, II thought,
| loved her enough to have made her my
wife, had she not lost my respect the
first time she sold herself-the right to
any mans, the second time" .,.
Perhaps it was well for Lady Martin
dale that her face was in the shadow as
he spoke. Over those well trained feat
ures passed fash of joy, quickly cloud
ed by a shadow of doubt. When she
spoke her voice was calm and low, but
its music thrilled him strangely.
Yet you did love her at West Point"
she said. mot as you might have
learned to love, Adrien, but with the
first Weakening of the boys heart Had
you forgotten that?'
Il had forgotten it" he replied calm
ly. The whole past was as deeply
buried as the Caliphs whose tombs these
are. And you knew it, them"
KNEW itr' she echoed. How could
|, feeling as felt then, fail to see what
others saw? Your tent mate knew it.
She, too, knew it; and her dotard of
husband knew to his COST
She checked herself abruptly. The
c2ress IL her voice had died as she went
3D.. rAglaGHJ hY the vibrance Of an al
most fierce triumph as she stood there
Judith the vengeri But it came back,
as she stole nearer to him saying:
Forgive Inc, please. was selfish in
the memory of my own loss then to call
| those specters out of your past, which /
would help you exercise! And how
did it | cannot guess, for only last night
twice stopped Lord Martindale's alb
rupt mention that we had met-him!'
Dale Everett| This time there was
eager Interest in the mans tone.
Noting it the woman turned away her
face, an ugly shadow over it, and the
lips curled III strange smile. But she
answered simply:
Yes; he was the guest of our cousin,
Hoyne-Cecil, of the guards"
Did you talk of me?' The flood of
recollections sweeping through the man
trembled Oh his voice.
She turned full TO him again, gazed at
him earnestly one instant, then answered
coldly:
mo, why should we? He never men,
toned your name. In London I was
coolly courteous to Cecils guest; in Paris
I barely recognized him. You have rea-
son to know that am no prude, but an
| open scandal like
Pardon me-" Latour interrupted. Il