San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-03-30
little shelter.


the table was amply supplied, and the
old lady's caps and kerchiefs were as
tidy as ever.
They were very sad, it is true, but
very fond of each other, and Doris felt
glad of the duty that had fallen to her
share; it was something to live for. And
she did like acting, too, and the applause
that followed her little song pleased her.
And she hoped to go on and make more
money, perhaps u little fame in better
part, and always care for Franks grand
mother-her grandmother now.
And with such innocent hopes as these.
she played her innocent little part, until
one night as she came out to sing her
song, she was aware of man who sat in
the front row, whose eyes We're fixed
upon her face, whose own face was stern
aud angry. Her heart stood still, or
seemed to do so. Then it beat furiously.
The audience had begun to applaud,
giving her what is called reception"
on her entrance. But she knew nothing
for the moment but that the man sitting
there before her was her bethrothed
husband, whom she had believed dead
was Franklin Fairfax in the flesh re-
turned to her.
Her joy was so great that she nearly
died of it, but even her brief experience
on the stage had taught her that at that
moment she belonged to the public, not
to herself. She made one mighty effort
and burst into the song:
My love is home again,
My love is home again;
After all the weary waiting
My love is home again.
All that she felt in meeting Frank,
she put into that song. Her voice, her
face, We're full of feeling. She held out
her arms to him involuntarily. The
listeners thought it the art of the actress
and the theater rang with their applause.
Only Frank sat stern and immovable,
and as Doris ceased singing, arose, cold
ly turning his back to her, and walked
down the aisle and out of the door,
1t was only that he feared to make a
scene before strangers, Doris thought.
Surely he will come behind the scenes
to speak to me-" She answered her en-
core, thinking that surely she should
back, but instead there was note. She
went away by herself to read it, trem-
bling now in every limb, and this is
what she found written il pencil on a
sheet of paper:
DoRIs-After experiences which probably
would not interest you return home impa-y
tient to meet you, believing you would rejoice
to see me. Fearing you had had news that
I q 1,.,tI Il MOI
reach home tonight, came to this place to pass
| away an hour.
Fancy my emotions when ! find that you
have taken advantage of my absence to break
your promise to me. Fancy what felt when
/ saw you on the stage, singing in that wild
and frenZied fashion, painted, bediZened, all
that most detest. You, my pure little daisy!
My pearl, my snowdrop, as used to call you.
Well, il is all over Goodby, Doris. shall
go to see grandmother and be off again. l
think there can be no sorrow greater than that
! FRANKLIN MORTON.
Again and again Doris burst into tears
in the cruel silence of the night in her
lonely city boarding house.
Could she have dreamed that anything
but JOY could have come to her with the
knowledge that Frank still lived. And
now, alas! he seemed farther from her
than when she thought him dead. Even
the love of the old grandmother would
be lost, for she had never told her that
she acted on the stage, but had led the
old lady to believe that she taught at a
school.
What was disgraceful in Franks eyes
would be ten times more so III hers.
How could she go home on Sunday? In
deed. she was not needed. Frank would
care for his grandmother, and she should
never even know what had happened
when Frank was missing. She had loved
him so well. She would only have done
what she had, knowing that he so serious
~ disapproved of it, for the sake of the
dear old lady. And now while they
were happy together she was thrust out
into the outer darkness as a wicked
thing, unworthy of their remembrance.
Poor Little Doris.
How long was the night in coming.
How sadly she attired herself and went
upon the stage when her call came.
Her first lines were uttered. "Bless
me, nobody here" with very little spirit.
When voice from the audience fell
clearly upon her. eyes, daughter, thee
did not look in the right direction. lam
here, and Franklin also" And there in
an orchestra chair sat Mrs. Fairfax in
her Quaker bonnet and drab shawl and
beside her Franklin, with very differ
ant look upon his face than that 1t had
@sa<S the night before. And the aston
To be Continued.