San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-03-23

either Ti-Rhada or Fritch, but that the
latter had told the Manwarings every
thing in his ken about the little Nepalese
it was plainly to be seen.
Mainwaring was furious. The washed
out blonde splendors of Blanche no longer
attracted him. Ti-Rhada was the only wo-
man in the world for whom he cared. But
he must have money. Ti-Rhada and
poverty was combination which failed to
conjure him with lasting spells. If he
could have money in the degree of abund-
ance essential to his tastes only by leading
Blanche to the altar. why, to the altar
Blanche should be led.
But he would not give up Ti-Rhada!
As tactfully rs he could he told the girl
his position, dilating emphatically upon
the hopeless helplessness poverty would
plunge them both into. There was but one
thing to do, he assured her; he must 10
home, marry Blanche, tolerate her for a
few weeks, till he could get his money
affairs in good condition, and then fly back
to Darjeerling and his hearts darling once
more.
would Ti-Rhada trust him so muchf
Long and steadily she looked into his
eyes, till she seemed to have searched out
| his every secret hope and fear
Yes, Will trust you" she finally said.
You may go and-and do as you say. You
| love me. You will come back to me"
| With every oath of consistency frenzied
lover can think of he swore to keep faith
with her.
! Cold and passionless with the pain of it,
| all as the bronze she looked like, was Ii
| Rhada the day he left her. and when the
| train had borne him away she sank into a
| little pulseless heap and neither moved nor
| spoke for hours.
March was to have found him back in
| the Himalayas again, but he did not come.
| Nor did April bring him. nor May.
! Once among people of his own kind, little
by little he began wondering if he had not
made mistake in falling in love with the
coarse little Nepalese tea gatherer. In the
course of two months he was sure Of it.
He had been fool.
| Of course he would not go back. The
| girl will soon forget him for some more
conveniently adjacent lover. 1t was the
fashion of her race. Perhaps she had for
| gotten him already. 1t was silly of him to
| have felt conscience stricken after ALL
do you know, dear, that am really be-
| ginning to doubt the justice of my first inn
| pressions and believe that you truly do
| love me?" said his wife several weeks after
their marriage. ~ should be the happiest
| of women, for | have married the rarest of
| treasures a modest man-almost shy
| man."
In June they went over on the Continent
to little fishing village on the coast of
| Norway. This spot was now very dear to
| them for it was the scene of their first
meeting.
One afternoon, when the sun made the
air almost sultry, Blanche drowsed off and
fell asleep i'm her hammock, her husband
sitting beside her.
He soon wearied of smoking, found read
ing bore and settled himself back in his
chair for n nap.
When he was nearly asleep there came
the pressure of cold hand upon his brow.
| Awakening with start he found himself
face to face with Ti-Rhada.
She moved silently down the lawn,
reckoning him to follow.
Terrified beyond power of resistance, he
| obeyed.
In the midst of "A little clump of trees she
stopped and faced him, fixing her great
dark eyes upon his with long and search
| ing scrutiny, the same AS she had done the
| day he left her
After time shaking sob, like mortal
CONFUSION, was wrepched from her bosom,
and the rich bronze darkness forsook her
skin and left it gray and ashen.
81 see-I understand she said quietly.
"You are all hers. Nothing within you is
mine any more, nor his neither"
| "His?"
81 speak of the little dead babe, lying
alone under>the tea plants in the Darjeer,
ling fields"
Mainwaring groaned, but could not move.
! Nor could he even raise a defensive arm,
though he saw what her cenched hand held
when it flashed upward into the air be-
fore it fell with shifting force upon his
| bosom.
| He felt the sudden sharp pain, saw the
crimson answer his life blood made to her
knife, lurched, caught himself and fell
backward upon the turf; but not an artic-
ulate sound did he utter, not even when he
watched her turn from him and glide
swiftly, noiselessly toward the sleeping
Blanche. Lew Vanderpoole in New York
| Recorder