The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1892-02-12

think you were afraid to tell me-"
"DO you not like himp Did you not
wish him to Gomez l thought he inter-
ested you, and he has promised to take |
some sketches for me, But if had
thought"
"Dear father, do not mind me. OF |
course / ana glad you asked him. Nv |
remarks were general, net particular.
Men are not, as rule, very interest
ing
Lorraine, with unusual persistence. "He
is clever, amusing, and draws we'll; be-
sides, he has helped me a great deal in
a way that has given him not a little
trouble"
ale is quite aware of his advantages"
Sydney replied, with shade of bitter
ness in the tones that used not to be
there. Sometimes, father, think peo-
pie know the value of everything be-
longing to them, including unselfish-
ness and all their other virtues. Now
do not scold me for being uncharitable
and hard. say that to you, but to him
| will be charming; interested and APP
preciative of everything, including
sketches and unselhshness."
Mr.. Loraine's only reply in words
was, Il am glad you judge me more
kindly than you do the Words" but for
a few minutes his thoughts did not
wander away to the subject of the new
book which was engrossing him at pres
emit; they remained with the tall, slender
daughter, by whose side he was walk
ing. Sometimes now, as he found him
self growing older and his hair grayer,
the thought would flash across him that
if he could have seen her proud and
happy wife, with children clinging
her, the future would not have seemed
so gray and dull, to which one day he
would have to leave her.
"But though used to wish she might
not leave me | have never influenced
her, and would always have done any
thing for her happiness 1t is she her
self who has ever been unwilling to
quit her home. She is capable of love,
| know it, but somehow II seems that
no man has ever been able to touch her
heart" But his thoughts being thus
turned to the subject he sighed, when
ut the library door he paused and enter
ed it.
what a sigh, fatherl That is forbid
den," kissing him. Are you going to
write tonight? You ought to be too
tired for that, but you grow two years
younger every year, and |, half smll-
ing, "two years older"
ave shall soon be the same age at
that rate. Come in and light my can
dies"
"When does Mr.. Carteret arrive" she
questioned, the taper in her hand.
Tomorrow about five. | promised
we would send to meet him."
She made no comment on his words
but, having lit the candles, returned tC
the drawing-room.
Back there, she stirred the fire into Q
brighter blaze, then recommended hel
walk to and fro, noting as she walked
now and again with satisfaction, somt
familiar object that after the months
absence it was pleasure to see again
but at length pausing in her slow walk
she sat down in the wide armchair OF
the hearth-rug, and pursued her trail
of thought with eyes fixed on the lire
as if she read story there.
AS she sits thus, her hands light!
clasped on her knee, the lampligh
above her shows the changes that tim
has brought to her. 1t is u different wo
man from the one in the white dres
who faltered out her heart-broken fare
wells in this very room. The face
thinner than of old, and the lampligh
shows gray hairs in the dark head; TIL
gray eyes are q little harder, q littl
colder, and the grave mouth smiles les
often than it did. The world with II
| t.,As 10 nd hnu
way, hardening to those who have I
fight many Of its battles, and nearly fly
years have gone by since Esme Won Liz
denheim said in this very room, If
regain my freedom will return, II no
| will write;" and he had not returned
had not even written. One little not
had come from him to Mr.. Lorain
posted from Berlin, thanking him TO
his kindness, telling him of his arriVa
80 far.
IL am arranging for leave to go HON,
at once" A message Of remembrance
to his daughter, and that was all From
then till now silence 80 great that no
one word had reached her listening ears
Pride, passion, bitter jealousyall war
ring in her desolate heart, all telling he
that the silence meant he had failed
and that he could not, or would not
write and say so.
"But | would rather know 1t, ia
rather. though | said should under
stand" And, mingled with the thought
of her despair, would come remem
brances Of her own words, "YOu will re
turn to her, and then this will seem al
interlude. Your love for her will al
come back. What is fortnight in
mans llfep For you 1t will be all as /
was before"
"What Is It'll" she would cry, leaninJ
out into the cold wintry night from tn
window where in the moonlight he hat
told her of his love. "What Is Il? Tel
me where you are, what you are doingl
And in the pain and grief of those win
ter nights the gray hairs were s0wn, TIN
soft mouth forgot its smiles. Month
had passed, months Of which each da,
had seemed written in fire across he
life, days Of which the mere memory
now would bring back the pain. Some
times the sight Of the familiar room, Of
of some slight object therein, would
catch her eye, and, reminding her o.
that vanished time, make the whole
scene 80 real that 1t was impossible Il
believe that blank months and year
stretched between then now. Tonight
returning after this short absence, tn,
place was alive with memories, and
looking into the freglow, her story
seemed written there.
Il am glad 10 be back" she said, sCtrt
ly; then, rising, walked over to the un
shattered window, and, openingit, look
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