San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-01-20

thing and shielded it from observation
When Norma bid her good night she re-
sponded quietly, and rising accompanied
her guest to her room to see that every
arrangement was perfect for her COM
fort.
Far into the night she sat beside her
dying fire trying to collect her faculties
and realize the extent of the calamity
which had befallen her. The first, and
for the time, dominant emotion was a
singing sense of shame, an agony of
rage and humiliation which tingled hot
ly through her, and caused her cheek to
fame and her body to writhe as from the
lash of whip. She had been degraded;
an insult had been put upon her. Her
eyes blazed and her hands clinched. Oh,
for strength to hurl the insult back-for
a mans arm and mans power to
avenge the foul affront! He-a married
man-to come, concealing his bonds and
playing the part of lover free to WOO
free to approach a woman and to win
her heart! The proud head bent to meet
VIC W SoNCl blC pdlC,
drawn face. She loved him and he was
unworthy. He had deceived and lied to
her, if not in words then in actions;
knowing himself bound to another wom-
an he had deliberately sought her out
and made her love him. 1t was cruel.
cruel! All along she had played virgin
gold against base metal, and now she
was bankrupt.
When the burning, maddening sense
of outrage had passed, and pride stood
with lowered crest and listless hands,
love lifted its head and tried to speak.
Hewas not without excuse, love pleaded;
his life had been miserable; his lot hard
stone for bread, and for wine the waters
of Marah. Until the night of the ball
he had retained mastery over himself
had held his love in check. Then men,
DRY reused herself and entered testimony
words. looks, tender, graceful atten-
tons thronged back upon her, and pride
caught love by the throat and cried out
that there was no excuse.
Perhaps, she pondered heavily, he, too,
writhed beneath this avalanche of pain;
perhaps remorse and the consciousness
of the anguish he had entailed upon them
both tore and lacerated him. He had
gone away at last, out of herllife, back
to the home and the ties that were
hateful to him. He had gone away to
take up his share of their joint burden,
and he would be merciful and never cross
her path again.
But would he? The girl quivered, her
hand sought the pocket of her dress and
her eyes glanced forlornly around the
room like the eyes of hunted creature.
She recalled something that the morn
ing's post had brought her-someth1ng
that had seemed sweet. and fair, some
thing that had caused her pulses to
thrill all day with exultant happiness.
Only a New Year card; a graceful,
white fringed thing, showing a handful
of blue forgetmenots thrown carelessly
beside an old anchor on bit of golden
sand. Pocahontas laid it on her lap and
gazed at it with strained, fearless eyes,
and read anew its sweet message of re-
membrance and hope. She had been
startled by Thornes sudden departure,
but had quietly accepted the message of
explanation and farewell sent her by
Blanche; she trusted him too implicitly
to doubt that what he did was best and
wisest, and was happy in the knowledge
that he would return.
0 How long ago it appeared to her al
4 81, thio ,Nra+fu cord ha6
She looked at it strangely, with eyes in
which there was longing, remuneration,
and wild hopelessness of love. She
must not kept. 1t was not hers. 1t
belonged of right to that other--woman
who was his wife. No, she must not
keep 1.-THE beautiful, tender thing.
With steady hand, but blanched, CULVER
ing lips she reached over and made a
little grave among the dying embers, in
which a sullen spark glowed like baleful
eye. Quietly, with the feeling that she
was burying all of youth and hope and
10Y her life would ever know. she kissed
the card with dumb, clinging, passionate
kisses, and then with a low, dry sob
covered it from sight.
As she raised herself up her eyes fell
on the little box lying on her desk in
which she had placed the fragments OF
the cupthey had broken between them
the cup that her old playfellow had
used on that last evening. With the i'm
pulse of habit and association, her mind
turned YEARLY to Jim. He was so true;
he had never failed her. Had he suf-
fered as she was suffering? Poor Jim!
Was this ceaseless, gnawing agony that
had usurped her life no stranger to his'
| If so, God pity him and her.