Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1892-10-06
.s>~CSC>lSGSI>S

must still be sleeping. But TWO hours
later. when the loneliness and silence
became oppressive. and the desire 10
see and talk to him could no longer De
resisted, she put aside the book she
had vainly tried TO read. and, going to
his room; tapped upon the door.
There was no answer, ana she
knocked more loudly. Still 10 answer.
Becoming frightened, she tried the
door, 1t opened to reveal an empty
room. Brian was gone. She stood for
O second motionless, trying to realize
this fact, and then without a word or
cry she went to her own room.
He was gone; that was all. 1t was
easy to say it. Why should she mind
so much? Had he really been home
Perhaps she had only dreamed, that
BERTHE had talked with her, or that she
hal heard Brian voice. Maybe ii she
should rub her eyes very hard she
would awaken presently to lind herself
back at Elmwood, and these last TWO
months horrible dream.
I'VE should never despair except in
the face of positive defeat, Wilson had
once said to her. Wasn't this positive
defeat? Could she see hope beyond 1t!
Was the long, hard struggle and the
DllItI tIdN tbll VI opIl ~ I'LL o"S>AA 'AAANAi
she had passed to avail her nothing?
Ah heaven would be more kind.
This thought brought a certain hope
and trust with it. And she could think
quite calmly of the hopes and lcngings
which had filed her heart when she
married Brian; Of the unfultilled dreams
and ambitions which had become a part
Of her life, and her vague ideas OF those
wife duties and attentions which were
to win him back from a life Of indo-
lence to position high and honored
before the world. They had been in
vain. All in vain.
She tried to put aside the overpower-
ing greet this knowledge brought her.
She would forget it. She would sit
here no longer. The window was open
and she was cold and chilled. Besides
she heard-what? A step. Yes, a
step, and, thank God, she recog-
nized it.
Without a seconds hesitation she
left the room, and when Brian entered
the hall outside he found her standing
like an apparition in the dim, uncertain
moonlight.
He started back, but it was too late
to avoid her. 1et even in that moment
Of supreme agony he saw that her
white, panied face held no anger, no
reproach, only the unutterable sadness
of one who has hoped so much and been
disappointed
"You!" he said, motioning her from
him with a hand whose trembling he
vainly endeavored to control. "1ou!"
What pen could describe the shame, the
misery and despair that simple word
held.
Have you come to add the last dreg
to my cup of bitterness?" he continued
rather huskily "Ah, you turn your face
away. 1 am beneath even your notice.
Why did come home to-night?"
because you still have little feeling
for me-" she answered, in voice that
was full of tears. Il can't bear too
much"
Some little feeling for her." he re-
fected. my God, have [ shown much
feeling for her? Yet touched nothing
o-day-nothing since this morning"
why did you go out?" she asked,
leaning rather heavily against the door,
though she was conscious of much relief
at his assurance.
ITO forget, Margaret, to forget myself
to forget you. Here every memory
haunted me- [ must have died had I
l
have walked and walked My body is
weary, but my mind is active. 1t is a
living furnace of bitter agony. It tor
lures me. | cannot escape"
From your better nature. No, Brian.
Thank God, you cannot escape from
your better nature. 1t is the thought Of
the man you might be which fortunes
you. Oh, Brian, Brian! Where is your
promise?"
He laughed unsteadily. A meaning
less laugh which Jared upon her.
You see, it is worse than useless, ;"
he returned, recklessly. I'm too worth
less to waste one thought upon. | have
broken your heart and ruined your life,
BERTHE says. Why don't you hate me?
Why don't you strike me as l stand
here a villain and coward.
All, no, she cried, raising her hand
to her face. Not that weak and unfor-
tunate, but with heavens help man. :"
He grasped the door for support. Her
gentleness unnerved him. Contempt
would have found him stronger.
What can say, Margaret" he asked
looking in her face with pitiful helpless
ness. What can l say. Your trust is
heaven for me. Can l find any excuse
after that. Yet I struggled. If you
could know how hard.
But you took nothing Tonight" she
questioned, Il soft light stealing into her
eyes.
No, nothing; but the temptation was
never more terrible. When I recalled
these last two days I thought I should
go mad. I remembered that I had again
broken my solemn promise. Again
overwhelmed you with shame and sor-
row, Notwithstanding all your kindness
and all your sympathy. The worst
criminal on earth never felt greater
misery and degradation. I was sure
you would never trust me again. Sure
that you would dread to look upon my
face. could see no hope. And when
l went into that accursed place they
seemed SO happy, The wine was there
to bring forgetfulness, to drown my