San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-01-25

like herself. Time and care and cease
less affection had wrought their benef-
cent work, and mind and body were re-
covering a healthier tone; her interest
revived and her hold on life renewed it
self. AS the weeks drifted into months
her condition became SO materially inn
proved that the anxiety Of her family
subsidized and left room for other thoughts
and interests, and finally her health was
sufficiently re-established to admit of her
husbands leaving them in the pictur-
esque French village. while he returned
to America.
In the quaint little village time glided
softly by on golden slippered feet, the
peaceful monotony broken only by little
jaunts to neighboring hamlets, the arriv-
al and departure of the mails and long
blissful sails on the deep blue sea.
Blanche's sweet face and gentle ways
speedily won the simple hearts Of the
fsherfolk, and her letters were filed
with anecdotes of her village proteges
and their picturesque life, And steamer
would have been necessary to convey
away the floral and aquatic treasures
heaped on her by the kindly peasants and
their little brown legged children.
The family would winter abroad and
return to America in the spring for the
wedding, which Blanche had decided
should take place in June. June was
lovely month, she thought, past all the
uncertainty of spring and with the glory
of summer beyond it.
Some weeks after General Smiths re-
turn to New York, Nesbit Thorne joined
his relatives in the pretty Mediterranean
village. The general had found his
nephew so changed, so worn in mind and
body, that the kindly old soldier became
alarmed and insisted on trying the rem
edy uppermost in his mind. He had
come with answering faith to regard
the south of France as an unfailing sani-
tarium, and he took his nephew promptly
in hand and gave him no peace until he
consented to go abroad, never leaving
him until he had secured his stateroom
and seen him embarked on his voyage.
Thorne went indifferently enough,
partly to escape his uncle's persistence
and partly because all places were alike,
all equally wearisome to him. He cher
ished also a hope Of hearing, through
Blanche, some tidings Of the woman who
still possessed him like spell.
When he first joined them Norma's
waning hopes flickered up in final effort
at revivification, but not for long. That
her cousin should be moody, istless and
thoroughly unhinged, did not surprise
her, since the trials through which he
had recently passed were sufficient tc
have tried more robust physique than
his. She set herself to interest and cheer
him, and at first was in measure sue
cessful; for Thorne, always fond of
Norma, observed her efforts and exerted
himself TO responsive cheerfulness, often
feigning an interest he was far from feel
ing in order to avoid disappointing her.
But as he grew accustomed to her minis
trations the effort relaxed, and he fell
into gloom and bitterness once more.
There was in the man sense OF
wrong as well as failure. Life had dealt
hardly with him-the bitterness had been
wrung out to him to the very dregs. In
all things-whether his intentions had
been noble or ignoble-he had alike
failed. He could not understand it. In
his eyes the conduct of the two women
whose influence had been potent in his
life, while springing from different
causes, had resulted in the same effect
uncompromising hardness toward him.
The diverse properties of the solutions
had made no appreciate difference in
the capitalization.
His love for Pocahontas had suffered
no diminution; rather, it had increased.
His longing for her presence, for her
love, was so great at times that the
thought would come to him to end the
intolerable pain by stopping forever the
beating of the heart that would not break.
Her second refusal had been cruel
blow to him. He had seemed to himself
so patient, so tenderly considerate; he
had made allowance for the conserva-
tism, the old world principles and preju-
dices amid which she had been reared;
he had given her time to weigh and con-
slider and plead. That the verdict should
have gone against him, admitted, in his
mind, but of one conclusion-Pocahon
did not love him. Had she loved him,
she must have proved responsive; love,
as he understood it, did not cruelty it
self for principle; it was more prone to
break barriers than to erect them. And
this point of hers was no principle; it
was, at noblest, an individual conscien-
tious scruple, and to the man of the
world it appeared the narrowest Of
bigotry.
His mind slowly settled to the convic-
ton that she had never loved him as he