San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-03-24


The White Sulphur Springs had bored
Gerald Ravelow severely for number Of
weeks past. He saw in hundred of the
pretty girls that haunted the lawns and
piazzas of the hotels a resemblance to
Brenda, vague yet irritating. He avoided
all chances of being presented to any Of
these damsels, and soon won, in conse-
quence, the name of woman hater. This
put him into still more unpleasant
humor, from which his only refuge was
found in taking very long horseback rides
among the breezy Virginia hills. Mean
while his mothers health had improved
but slightly, although her malady was
fraught with no symptoms of danger.
Learning by accident that New York
physician of note CHANGED to be at small
hotel about ten miles distant, Gerald
persuaded his mother to accompany him
thither They retained their former
apartments at the hotel, which they now
temporarily left, and to which they pro-
posed returning in at least three days
from their time of departure.
AS matters arranged themselves, how
ever, the new quarters proved charming,
the new doctor very agreeable man
and the new project most unforeseen
success His mother seemed so much
brighter and stronger that Gerald deter
mined to give up his apartments at their
former hotel and remain for an indef-
mite space in the spot whittier he had
drifted. With this purpose he sent for
whatever letters that might have ar
rived at their recent abode, directed
either to himself or Mrs Ravelow. Sew
eral letters had arrived and were duly
sent. Among them was telegram from
Miss Brenda Bond telling of her broth
er's death.
Gerald was horribly shocked. For the
first time since boyhood his mother saw
him weep He bitterly reproached HIM
self for having seen his friend so seldom
of late; he pitied Brenda with a lovers
exorbitant power to pity; and finally he
told his mOtaer that it would be imper-
alive for him to leave on the next north
ern train.
"Of course, my son." she aCquiesced.
81 would not have you remain away
from the funeral for worlds-that is, IL
there is any possible clance of you reach
ing it in time"
Gerald did his best. But the journey
was long and Brenda's telegram had
been cruelty delayed. When he arrived
at Shadyshore the funeral ceremony had
been over about three hours. Brenda,
clad in the deepest mourning, met him
with seb and a little cry.
my poor girl" he said, and took her
in his arms. A servant had just glided
from the drawing room, leaving them
alone. Gerald's lips found their way to
hers, and the kiss that followed was one
% betr0thal, as both silently understood.
II have SO much to tell yOn," faltered
Brenda, looking about her with nervous
glances. But there will always be the
thought that she is listening. 1t is such
lovely afternoon. Let us walk out I'M
der the fir trees"
Their walk lasted until nearly dusk.
Finally, with a binding headache caused
by grief and excitement, Brenda redl-
rected her steps toward the house.
"And YOU tell me-" said Gerald, as he
walked ruminatively at her side, that
DIR. Southgate declared your brother
died of heart disease"
Eyes. He wrote that or the certifi-
cate: saw the two words myself"
But you yourself think
"Oh, think nothing, because I've not
a vestige of proof"
Gerald was silent for some little time.
He would have liked to tell Brenda the
reason her brother had caused her TO
Continued on Third Page.