The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1892-11-18

should go to see Lima Tennant-thought
probably that he should not, but he
wanted to be near her once more. He
had some idea that he might stay
abroad; in that event it would be just
as well to see her, and say goodby. By
the time he reached Cleveland he had
fully decided ON this, so he went to her
at once.
Miss Tenant was shocked at his ap
pearance.
"Have you been ill?' she asked.
mo; am very we'll"
| She waited for him to go on, to say
something of himself; but he sat pas
sively and looked steadily at her. 1t be-
came embarrassing.
did you find George well?"
'Yes; very well, very happy, very
contented."
did you enjoy your stay there?'
No; enjoy nothing. All places are
the same to me. But a pleasant thing
happened" His face lightened up with
the memory as he recalled it.
| What was thatY' she asked expect
antly.
George nearly killed man for me.
Miss Tenant shuddered.
THAT was horrible" she said.
Il tell you it was fine," he cried. SIT
| is so good to know that one will do
something for you. shall never forget
| that"
"But there are other and better things
to do for one"
Il don't know what they are," he said
moodily. George is splendid fellow.
He would have killed the man quite if /
had wanted him to-"
"You are not yourself when you talk
in this way" said Lima. "You hurt
me-"
II don't want to do that. There are
hurts enough in the world now," he an
swered.
Poor fellow" she breathed softly.
Don't" )" he said impatiently; "don't
| do that. don't want to be pitied.
| Don't pity me. can't stand that"
"Oh, how you have sufferedr' she
continued, not heading his appeal. ''Does
George understands
"Yes. lie would not lot-that-be
done again; he cares for me now."
"And do you think that no one else
cares for you?"
For moment the blood tingle,l in his
| veins, and he bent toward her with a
| quick, searching look. But he was
quickly himself again-calm, composed,
expecting nothing. He would not let
himself be deluded again by any fancy.
He would expect nothing, hope for moth
| ing, from any man or woman. Then
| there would come no more disappoint-
ment.
mo-" he said shortly, II don't expect
| any one else to. That man he struck
said l had the prison lock-that l
would always have it. One can't care
for man with the prison look"
"Yes, can; do, Ogden. I can't
bear to see you like this"
mo, you can't care for me; you pity
me, that's all, he answered moodily.
He got up to go. Lima placed her
hand in his.
"You will come and see me again,
will you not, tomorrow"
"Did not tell you? am going away
to England"
cat once?"
II had meant to start tomorrow"
"Must you? Is there any need?"
"There is no hurry. Nothing that
do is important.
"Then you will see me again?"
He promised and went away.
Once more by himself and there began
an hour of struggle as bitter as any that
had come before in the whole course of
Chalmers life. When Lima Tenant
| had said that she did care for him it had
demanded the whole strength of his ma
ture to keep from reaching out and TAX
| ing her in his arms and telling her the
whole story of his love, and how the
sacrifice of those long years had been
made for her sake. Now he thought
over her words and the look in her deep
eyes, and if he could have divested him.
self of the narrowing belief that her
kindness had been only prompted by
pity he would have gone back then and
asked her to be his wife.
He walked ON and on through the
long night. Should he ever be able to
throw off this feeling of abasement that
was now always with him-to hold up
his head among men, to believe that he
could be valued by them at his real
worth, instead of being pitied and
stunned because of what he had been?
He wished he might never have to see
men any more The stars shining above
him were quiet and congenial compan-
ions. They asked no questions; they
let their light shine out as freely for
him as for any.
He stopped beside the still river and
watched the reflection of the stars in its
silent bosom.
"a man might go down there" he
thought, "and sleep with them and be
quiet and still and content forever.
wonder if that would not be best after
all?"
But no; that would not be right to-
ward George, who had sent him on this
business and trusted him with it. He
would attend to that first; then, maybe,
| he might-rest.
And then George would care, too; he
knew that now-had known itever since
he struck that detective fellow.
Lima had said she cared too. But did
she? How could he tell? She had done
nothing for him. Perhaps she had never
had the chance; well, he would give her
one now; he would ask her to marry
him and go to England with him.
He found his way back to the hotel,
and with this new resolve firm in his
mind slept long and well. Then he arose,