The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1893-05-17

Laura dropped her eyes for mo-
ment.
"You make it more difficult for me
to say what I wished" she observed in
q moment. "She has gone back to her
friends because she was far too sensi-
tive and delicate b little creature to
| face the hand-to-mouth struggling ex-
istence of female art student sue
cessfully She should never have at
tempted it. blame myself now, for
love the child dearly. Still, her year
of such experience as she has known
here would do her no harm, rather
good, perhaps, were it not for one
thing" and here those gray eyes rest
ed full upon the young man again,
"and with that you, Mr.. Varian, are
connected.
"IP"
The gray eyes flashed scornfully.
at is unworthy to dissemble!" cried
Laura. "If you have given that poor
child cause to think that you love her,
and have taught her to love you in re-
turn, there is no reason why you
should attempt so to conceal the fact.
Pardon me, have been unneces-
sarily rude and hasty. But 1 am El-
sa's best friend, think. / know her
very thoroughly. Her happiness
seems to have become, in some sense,
my responsibility since she left the
safe shelter of her home to be with me
Ito try the same life that have tried.
Mr.. Varian, believe Elsa is very un-
happy now. And"
"And you think she is unhappy be-
cause have trif1ed with her affec-
| tionsp Led her to fix them upon me
| when"
"Of course, you are a man of the
world, Mr.. Varian, and Elsa is mere
little country girl. )" interrupted Laura,
with rapid utterance. Her case, some
how, did not seem so very clear after
all. And strong and collected as she
always was she was growing strange
ly nervous now.
"But Elsa is good, pure girl,
worthy to be the wife of any man."
she hurried on. And" S he paused
abruptly.
II honor you more than I can say
for what have seen of you within the
last ten minutes" said Variants voice
at this juncture. "Few women would
have had such directness, such loyalty
to a friend, such courage. But there
is mistake here. IL cannot marry
Miss Hart"
Laura raised her head. For mo-
ment they measured each other.
"You cannot marry"
"No. Because do not love her. l
have looked upon her as pretty child
nothing more; and mindful of her
grandfather's kindness to me the sum-
mer that was thrown from my horse
when riding near his place and laid
up under his roof for weeks, have
tried to do what little 1 could for her.
That is all. Isought her out, not for
herself, but because she was your
friend-because she was near you"
She had turned ashy pale. The pal
lor of her cheek was reflected on Va
rian's. He had not thought to speak
so soon. Their eyes held each other
for long, breathless pause. In an in
stant the young man was on his knees
at her side.
Laura! Laura!"
NO. no, moi" She shrank away
from his touch; but he had seen the
expression of her eyes, and all his
pulses beat in the intoxication of
new hope.
"You must go away; you must never
come back" she said hoarsely.
Laura! You can't mean that?" the
poor fellow gasped.
She had risen to her feet.
"WhyP WhyP" he stammered, fol-
lowing her as she retreated from him.
A light burst upon him, induced by
something in her face.
at cannot be that You are not
thinking of Elsa, of Miss Hartp But
this is folly, madness! For girl like
you-head and shoulders above other
| women-such a stand is Incompetent
sible!"
"She loved you; she trusted me-"
said Laura, rigid and white in her eff
fort at self-control.
Good heaven!" the man exclaimed,
driven to bay, "you would not have
me marry girl do not love simply
because she happened to fancy other
wise? / deplore the delusion, but
what more can l do? Laura" he
pleaded, "you will not send me awayp"
Eyes" She still stood rigid, with
downcast eyes.
cat least" he pleaded again, after
moment of silence, "will you not tell
me that you care for me-a little?"
Not even then would she raise her
eyes.
"Very well. 1 shall go now, but
shall come back. Do you hear mel
Time works many changes - and ]
shall return"
And. so saying, he left her:
But she never hoped for his return.
She never expected it.
The last of the warm days had flown,
the autumn afternoons were growing
short, Laura worked on, leading her
| own solitary life
She had resigned herself to the soli-
tude in which she seemed to have been
| abandoned. Her pencil never faltered
| in these DAYS. But the hand that
welded it had grown thin and white,
and the blue veins showed like deli
cate tracery under the transparent
skin.
She was coming home late one dark
afternoon, when, in the gloom-filled
landing before her door, she made out
an indistinct form! 1t did not move
at her approach, and only when she
had thrown open the door did she rec
cgnize who it was.
Then she staggered back little.
"You see, have come back-as I
told you would" said Varian.
In the stronger light of the room he
saw how changed she was and how
she trem bled.
"Laura-my poor grill"
Even then she tried to push him
from her.
"Good heaven, Laura" he cried.
stepping back; edo you not know that
Elsa Hart is married."
"Married!"
He drew a folded newspaper from
his pocket.
"You see, she was married two weeks
ago, and to fellow happen to know,
clever young artist, rising in his
profession, who spent his summer
sketching on her grandfather's farm.
Now, Laura, will you come to me?"
"Oh, how could she. how could she
-
@Forget me SO soonp" laughed Va
rain. Pardon me, dearest, but ]
think you rather overrated the depth
of her feelings. She liked me no bet
ter than she would have liked many
other men who happened to be little