Wood River times. [volume] (Hailey, Idaho) 1882-1915, 1893-11-13
''Dio you know ne loved me?" ques-

''Dio you know ne loved me?" ques-
toned.
He bowed his head.
so we'll, that could have laid down
my life instead of his. that he might re-
turn 10 yon, l would have done it,"
How good you are!'
| "Not SO. l had nothing to live for,
and no one to care for me-that is WHY
lived" laughed he rather bitterly.
| on will come and see me often"
impiored. You are the last link between
me and him."
"If you wish," was his curt reply.
- must return to the Glass;" ex.
claimed lingeringly.
:" Aud injure your eyes ferever2 Stay"
said he, drawing note from his pocket,
from which he tore the spare half sheet,
II will give you something for them"
He wrote some mystic lines compre-
hcnsible but to himself and the chemist.
l stuffed them heedlessly in my pocket
and returned to work.
Many times after that we met, for nv
father took fancy to him. and encour-
aged his coming. He imagined the doc
tors visits cheered me. scarcely liked
to own they did. Looking into his
gloriously handsome face, regretted my
paliid shrunken features for the first
time
| l began to wish for the looks which
had been so promising but u short while
back. but they returned not. The glitter
had gone from my eyes as the CLINT of
loves gold from my heart. But had it 2
| A red blush of shame overspread nv
features as l questioned with myself il
the memory Of the dear dead waxcd
fainter in the presence of the living.
A year crept slowly by, and lost my
father who had become dearer to me
since my grief. Armand Daintry became
my friend. He was more gentle, less
abrupt than when we first had met.
BY instinct rather than anything else,
l felt l had brought peace into his life.
as he had into mine OF love l had
nevel thought. 1t was thing stillbon,
buried before the breath OF life could
come to it. believed my art was suffi-
cient for me, and knew not it was glori-
fed by the continued presence of one
who had become dear friend. an almost
brother. Wherever l went, whatever l
did, felt that the thoughts of one being,
like guardian angels, lowered round me.
Was l unhappy, he comforted-was l
undecided, he advised-was ambitious,
he supported me!
Month after month passed. l was no
longer a student, but an artist, and my
first little picture. entitled "Outside
Adrianople"-of a dead horse and his
1iHAr had hoon noOopnor1al
Academy walls. But nothing endures
here below, and II change came at last.
Armand Daintry called. His face was
pale and grave.
What ais you?' inquired at once
Nothing, but that | must leave you.
I shall volunteer for Egypt tomorrow"
"Ah" A strange Tightening of the
throat hushcd my words
''It's no good hanging about in Eng
land doing nothing"
"Why not? Why nots" I asked i'm
pulsively. Are you not happy here?"
Happy? Too happy! Camilla, lis.
ten. The first Gay saw you knew it
would be all up with me. had seen
your photograph, and said to myself that
is the girl could have loved. l dared
fate in venturing to meet you. have
dared fate in trying to continue friend
ship with you while my heart was mad
with love. That you have no thought
OF me l know. That is why will not
remain, but go where man may do his
duty aud forget"
A flame red blush caught my cheeks
and lit up my eyes, then l turned icy
cold. Could my pulses beat, my heart
leap with joy, with rapture, while that
dear dead man lay far away in lonely
grave meath the blistering Eastern SUM-
Aud Armand had been his friend There
seemed treachery in hearkening to words
of love from him!
"And when you return?" asked with
unnatural calm.
He smiled bitterly.
'1f return may be curedr'
$50 easilys" could not forbear ex-
claiming
He grasped my hand.
"Would you not wish it sol Is it
possible that if live you would let me
devote my life to giving you the happi-
ness you have lost, that might teach
you the difference between a real love
and the ideal one you pictured?"
His blue eyes shonc like sunlit
heaven, and his hands, the hands which
unfalloringiy bound the wounds of the
suffering amid shot and shell on the
battlefield, trembied like those of man
drunk with wine.
With one great bound my hearts love
| went out to him, then l remembered.
What would he think of love so easily
foresworn2
"Haye you no answer for mer viii
you try and forget the past?'
"Never!"
My voice was harsh and unnatural. I
dared not show the emotion that almost
mastered me.
"Good-by then he said, holding out
his hand.
| Something that was very like sob
rose in my throat, but ] strangled it.
St,augled it until he was gone. Then,
OH, then l dared to weep, calling him
back to love, to bless me, for he could
not hear.
"Armand. my beloved, stay !" l moancd
through The long days and nights which
| followed, but heard no more of him. If