Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1891-05-17

not by any feeling Of satisfaction, but by his
sense of his own almost laughable perplex-
ity. He saw that he was very near being
driven to the ridiculous necessity OF giving
her some advice OF the paternal kind. SIT
is not for me, either, to talk to you OF what
you have done to Israel Kafka to-day" ne
continued. "Do not oblige me to say any
thing about it. It will be much safer You
know it all better than l do. and you under
stand your own reasons, as l never can. If
you are sorry for him now, so much the bet
ter-you will not hurt him any more il YOU
can help it. If you will say that much
about the future l shall be very glad con-
feSs."
do not think that there is anything
which I will not do if you ask it,'' Cnorua
asked very earnestly.
Il do not know" the wanderer answered,
trying to seem to ignore the meaning con-
veyed by her tone Some things are harder
to do than others"
Ask me the hardestl'' she exclaimed.
ASK me to tell you the whole truth"
NO" he said firmly, in the hope of
checking an outbreak of passionate speech.
What you have thought and done is no
concern of mine. II you have done anything
that you are sorry for, without my knowl-
edge, do not wish to know it. have seen
you do many good and kind acts during the
last month, and / would rather leave these
memories untouched as far as possible. You
may have have had an object in doing them
which in itself was bad. l do not care. The
deeds were good. Take credit for them and
let me give you credit for them. That will
do neither of US any harm"
Il could tell you-if you would let me-"
''Do not tell me- he interrupted. Il re-
peat that do not wish TO know. The one
thing that l have seen is bad enough Let
that be all. Do you not see that Besides,
| am myself the cause Of it in measure
unwilling enough. Heaven knows''
The only cause said Unorna bitterly.
am not quite without blame-we men never
are in such cases. If reproach you, l
must reproach myself as we'll"
''Reproach yourself-ah. no! What can
you say against yourself?'' she could not
keep the love out of her voice, if she would;
her bitterness had been for herself.
u will not go into that" he answered.
81 am to blame in one way or another. Let
US say no more about il. viii you let the
matter reStl'
And let bygones be bygoues, and be
friends to each other, as we were this
morning." she asked with ray of hope.
The Wanderer was silent for few sec
opds. His difficulties We're increasing.
A while ago he had told her, as an excuse
for herself, that men and women did not
always mean what they said, and even now
he did not set himself up in his own mind
as an exception to the rule. Very honora-
BILE and truthful men do not act upon any
set principles in regard to truth and honor.
Their instinctively brave actions, and nat
urally noble truthfuness make those prin-
cipals which are held up to the unworthy
for imitation by those whose business is the
teaching Of what is good The Wanderers
only hesitation lay between answering the
question and not answering it.
Shall we be friends againl" Unorna
asked asked a second time, in low tone.
Shall we go back TO the beginning"
II do not see how that is possible" he an
swered, slowly.
Unorna was not like him and did not IN
derstand such nature as his, as she I'M
derstood keyork Arabian She had be-
lieved that he would at least hold out some
hope.
You might have spared me that" she
said, turning her face away. There were
tears III her voice.
a few hours earlier his answer would
have brought fire to her eyes and anger TO
her voice. But real change had come
over her, not lasting, perhaps, but strong
in its immediate effects.
" Not even a little friendship left2" she
said, breaking the silence thst followed.
81 cannot change myself he answered,
almost wishing that he could. Il ought,
perhaps" he added, as though speaking to
"Harn2 To whOm2' She looked round
suddenly, and he saw the moisture in her
eyes.
To him, he replied, glancing at Kafka,
land TO you. You loved him once. have
ruined his life.''
Loved himl No-I never loved him."
She shook her head, wondering whether
she spoke the truth.
you must have made him think 500
81? No--he is mad" But she shrank be-
fore his honest look, and suddenly broke
down. mol will not lie to you-you are
too true-yes, loved him, or l thought l
did until You came, and l saw that there
was no one"
But she checked herself, as she felt the
blood rising to her cheeks. She could blush
still, and still be ashamed. Even she was
not all bad, now that she was calm and that
the change had come over her.
you see," the Wanderer said, gently, II
am 10 blame for it ALL
For It all! No-not for the thousandth
part OF it all. What blame have you in be-
ing what you are! Blame God in Heaven
for making such man. Blame me for
what you know, blame me for all that you
will not let me tell you. Blame Kafl1a for
his mad belief in me, and keyork Arabian
for the rest-but do not blame yourself