Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1892-03-18

think you were afraid to tell me-"
do you not like him? Did you not
wish him to come? thought he inter-
ested you, and he has promised to take
some sketches for me. But if 1 had
thought"
Dear father, do not mind me. OF
course am glad you asked him. My
remarks were general, not particular.
Men are not, as rule, very interest
ing .,,
Lorraine, with unusual persistence. "He
is clever, amusing, and draws well; be-
sides, he has helped me great deal in
a way. that has given him not little
trouble"
"He 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. l say that to you, but to him
l will be charming; interested and APP
Preciative of everything, including
sketches and unselfishness.
Mr.. Loraine's only reply in words
was, 81 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
ent; 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 about
| bay fha fitura would NOT houa caap,a1
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 it seems that
no man has ever been able to touch her
heart" But his thoughts being thus
turned to the subject he sighed, when
at 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 l" half smil-
ing, "two years older"
ave shall soon be the same age at
that rate. Come in and light my cam
dies"
when does Mr.. Carteret arrive?" she
questioned, the taper in her hand.
Tomorrow about five. l promised
we would send to meet him."
She made no comment on his words,
but, having lit the candles, returned to
the drawing-room.
Back there, she stirred the fire into a
brighter blaze, then recommended her
walk to and fro, noting as she walked,
now and again with satisfaction, some
familiar object that after the months
absence it was a pleasure to see again;
but at length pausing in her slow walk,
she sat down in the wide armchair on
the hearth-rug, and pursued her train
of thought with eyes fixed on the fire,
as if she read story there.
AS she sits thus, her hands lightly
clasped on her knee, the lamplight
above her shows the changes that time
has brought to her. 1t is different wo-
man from the one in the white dress
who faltered out her heart-broken fare
wells in this very room. The face is
thinner than of Old and the lamplight
shows gray hairs in the dark head; the
gray eyes are little harder, q little
colder, and the grave mouth smiles less
often than it did. The world with its
disappointments and troubles has a
way, hardening to those who have to
fight many of its battles, and nearly five
years have gone by since Egme Won Lin
denheim said in this very room, IF |
regain my freedom will return, if not
/ will write;" and he had not returned
had not even written. One little note
had come from him TO Mr.. Lorraine
posted from Berlin, thanking him for
his kindness, telling him of his arrival
so far.
Il am arranging for leave to go home
at once" A message of remembrance
to his daughter, and that was ali. From
then till now silence so great, that not
one word had reached her listening ears
Pride, passion, bitter jealousy all war
ring in her desolate heart, all telling hel
that the silence meant he had failed
write and say so.
"But L would rather know it, fan
rather, though | said should under.
stand" And, mingled with the thoughts
of her despair, would come remem.
brances of her own words, you will re-
turn to her, and then this will seem ar
interlude. Your love for her will al
come back. What is a fortnight in 6
mans life? For you it will be all as il
was before"
"What is it?" she would cry, leaning
out into the cold wintry night from the
window where in the moonlight he haC
told her of his love. "What is itp Tel
me where you are, what you are doingl'
And in the pain and grief of those win
ter nights the gray hairs were sown, the
soft mouth forgot its smiles. Month!
had passed, months of which each day
had seemed written in fire across hel
life, days Of which the mere memory
now would bring back the pain. Some
times the sight of the familiar room, o.
of some slight object therein, would
catch her eye, and, reminding her OF
that vanished time, make the whole
scene so real that it was impossible t.
believe that blank months and years
stretched between then now. Tonight
returning after this short absence, thu
place was alive with memories, and
looking into the fireglow, her story
seemed written there.
Il am glad TO be back" she said, SOFT
To. tbon ,icipo xvalla1 Oyar fo tho nm