The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1892-05-14
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anu iny post me see4ns 70 me nov an
evil dream, but you viii make me bet
ter, and together we shall find happi.
ness, happiness that win last forever"
The months pass by. She Is in then
new city home, in The midst Of the fash.
ionable worll. Several Of its audacious
Irequenters pay court to her. Now be.
fore Helen passes the face Of Bessie, ani
the words she spoke resound strangely
III her tired brain:
do you believe that woman who
has been deeply loved can. live without
love-"
1t seems to Helen many long DAYS
since yesterday, and even that her SUI.
roundings have undergone a change.
To escape from her Illusion and return
to reality. she whispers:
"Arthur-Arthur-
"Well:"
But that voice that used to reassurs
her only augments her uneasiness. fol
she no longer recognizes it. Again she
takes refuge in her thoughts. Why does
he not wish her to consult the clairyoy-
ant: Why: Why:
Her heart beats violently and a sharo
pang assails it; doubt is entering therein.
If Arthur were false? If he were like
Bessie's husband? If all that seemed
impossible were possible, the whole
world infamous? How she suffers. Ii
must be jealousy that she feels 1t is
terrible malady, and she knows it will
hereafter torture her every hour.
Who can have stolen Arthur from
her? She is trying to think. Can it be
Ethel Goddard, or is it that little Mrs.
\ Narburton? She is suffocating, hel
throat tightens, her lips are dry and
burning. The light of the lamp vaciL
lates. The old tapestries are Of a sudden
clearly shown, then fall again into
shadow. The chairs, frightened here
and there by CLEANS that fall on the
gliding of their frames, seem to move
queerly around Helen, whose brain il
reeling. She is frightened at herself.
for while thinking of rival she feels
herself no longer a responsible being,
capable even of q crime.
1t is thus, then, that one becomes
criminal through excessive suffering.
But is she crazy? What proves that
Arthur is false? She calInct live with
such doubt. She must know and will
know. Why not consult the clairvoy-
ant?
She rises, supports herself by the fur.
niture to keep from falling and looks
earnestly at Arthur, who, plunged in a
brown study, does not see her. OF
whom is lie thinking? Of that other
woman. She walks softly over the
thick carpet and looks for her scissors in
her workbox. Now she draws nearer
to tho young man, her gaze riyeted on
lock Of his hair. She could 50 quickly
cut that lock were it not for the loud
beating Of her heart. 1t makes more
noise than the clock. Arthur viii heaI
it and turn quickly around. No: be re-
mains motionless-stiu thinking.
Suddenly he starts and utters a cry.
Helen runs off, the lock of hair between
her fingers. Her eyes look defiant, but
she tries to laugh. He does not laugh,
his face has grown pale; fear. and rage
beset him.
Il order you Immediately to return me
that hair says he.
No; | will not obey
Then ! VIII use force
He strives to grasp Helen; she escapes
him, running around chairs and tables.
Then She takes a jewel casket, locks the
hair within, and finging the key fal
away tries t. fly to her bedroom.
But al iron hand falls tpon her and
a frighttul face approaches her. The
wrists Ct the young wife are pressed as
in a wise; the pain Is intolerable there
just the place where Arthur had always
put his lips.
Then The caslet slips to the foor; the
husband seizes it, breaks it open with
kick Of his boot, takes out the stolenlo lock
Of hair and throws it into the fire.
Helen. half senseless, sees It barn.
"What does it matter. now" she sadly
murlnar5: '.the cl2irvoy.I,. las spoken.
Adapted for Argonaut from the French
Of 3. de EiE.ere.