The morning call., 1892-05-22

congratulate him the moment be had put on
his abOminable loud blazer" and marched
of the field, or court, victorious?
do not play tennis having more impor-
tsnt matters TO attend TO, nor do l dance
particularly well; still, at their insufferably
dull Tennis Ball." she need not have
thrown me over for him in the pronounced
way she chose 10 do.
"Oh, Clinton, may l give Captain Smyth
one Of your dances? You won't mind, will
yOu?"
"Oh, certainly not; give him the lot. II
you ike" l answered blandly.
did not know TIL that moment that the
sweetest Of blue eyes Can fash sparks OF
ice, hut saw them do Ii then.
"Oh, thank you so much. There. CAPTAIN
Smyth; that IS delightful; you can have
three more than l promised you at first"
And without waiting TO listen 10 my angry
e1pOstuiauUn she sailed away on his arm.
L knew l had been rude, and wanted to
apologize, and tried hard to catch her eye as
she swan around with the handsome cap
tain, who could dance. But never once
were the long, dark lashes lifted, never
once ala the old smile play across the sweet
little face.
went home utterly wretched. All, how
the little paw could wound my big. stupid
heart! l lay awake nearly all night, and
during Tue long hours l made up my mind 10
hasten, the very first thing in the morning,
to make friends" with her. | should tell
her was sorry l had been rude, but should
also make her understand that considered
had good deal Of cause to feel injured.
Clinton" she began very quietly the
moment she entered the room, Il am glad
you have come There are some things |
must say TO you. l consider that the way in
which you have behaved since our engage
ment has been most humiliating to me-"
10 you! do not see what cause you
have to speak" l broke out.
Il am going to speak," her soft, even
voice went on. II consider your unreasOn-
able Jealousy as nothing short Of an insult.
II you cannot trust me you had better bid
me good-by, There can be no happiness in
a marriage without absolute trust"
hardly know what | said then, whether
pleaded or upbraded. | remember little
OF what befell till l found myself striding
through the fields, their cOrnfOwers blue
Ike those angry eyes and their peoples
bright like her ScOrnful red mouth
was IT ali at an end, then. the dream OF
my life? Yes, OF course it was-Over, all
over! | must get away, away back to the
sea and the wild, strange lands; away,
somewhere, where-frOm all this But
my poor old father! l could not leave him.
l must not leave my work; some of my
cases were In critical condition. There
was no escape. Here | must stay; meet
her constantly; shake hands with her. and
yet be as if the world stretched between us.
And the dreadful part Of Ii all was that she
seemed not TO care one little bit She was
tie same bright, merry, dainty little
creature that she bad always been, Why
was she so cruelY Why would she not at
once look at me with glance OF pity, love,
remorse? How gladly. at her smallest
overture OF grace, would l have cast myself
utterly on her mercy and vowed anything
she chose to demand of me. But she gave
no sign; and | was too proud to approach
her unless she herself seemed to summon
me.
What a wretched time it wasl How
fercely, week by week. did try to harden
my heart against herl But everything con-
| spTed TO make that impossible. Hardly a
| cottage did | enter but heard OF her loving
kindness. She seemed to 20 about like q
unbeam, smoothing coarse pillows, COM
forting sad hearts. calling smiles to parched
and feyered lips and looks of love to heavy
! eyes.
! How was ii that she, who could be so ten.
! der to others, could so hurt the heart thai
! loved her? How could she keep up our quar-.
| rel all this time, when she must see how Il
| was wounding me, killing me? If only she
1 would say she was sorry she bad vexed me
4 should not whisper word Of blame. But
! say 1t she would not. And so the summer
/ passed; autumn came with its storms anC
decay, and yet we were no nearer beinI
/ friends again.
II.
So the wretehed months passed TIL mid
| winter was reached. Aud what a winter
/ Long before Christmas the snow lay thicl
/ on the ground. and my poor patient
| learned full we'll the joys Of real old
fashioned winter" l had enough and NOR,
than enough work to do, but l was thank
| full Tor II. Only in helping and relievin,
| the sufferings of others could | succeed i,
forgetting my own pain. AS the dull lay
dragged themselves along one OF my fayori,
patients began to fade away, and at length
l had to face the painful task of telling he
that ere the new year came she would hav
to enter on the world Of the unknown Sh
was a decent woman, the wife of dissi
] lRted husband. for whom She had tnilai