The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1893-12-08

you. Mr.. Murray" he said IN a calm. COL
orless tone. lone thing l must say
however. When | was young. people
did not repay hospitality as you have
done. Pardon me, If you please. Don't
interrupt. Without plunging into stu
pid detail | am sure you understand me.
! will say goodby to you now. You can
not go too quickly to please me. dare
say you will succeed. The sensitive and
forbearing man is often left in the back
ground. but men of your stamp, never"
He passed down the hall, leaving Tom
hot and indignant. Had Virginia told
him. or did he only guess? 1t was i'm
possible to retaliate, impossible to tell
this selfish dreamer he had never been
his guest. Besides the words did ranlle,
oh. so deeply! for, though uttered from
a partially mistaken sense Of wrong,
they were true. He had acted coward
ly part.
His face was worn and reckless as he
turned to the hall window. endeavoring
to conquer the quivering of his pulses
before facing Virginia
1t had commenced to snow again. He
could hear the students practicing new
Christmas hymn in the chapel opposite.
In a moment the years spent in the col
lege. so different from his present life.
passed in a series of pictures before him,
and with them the thought of all he owed
Virginia. But for her 1.-The Worlds
Way" would never have been written.
Looking back, he saw how clearly her
companionship had nerved him to con-
tinual effort. Hers was the voice that
had urged him ON, hers the dauntless
optimism that had sent rift of glory
into his darkest days.
An ache rose il his throat; the snow,
in the light from the open chapel door,
whirled mistily before him. Now that
he was actually going the thought that
he was leaving her was exquisite pain.
The familiar landmarks frowned an IN
bearable reproach.
what a fool amr he thought and
gave his shoulders an impatient shrug.
"When I'm with Delatole. see I've done
right. When I'm here-pshawl what's the
use of these regrets? They lead nowhere.
| can't turn back. must go on. I'll
never forget Virginia, we can be friends
still, and some day, in year maybe,
when I'm sure of myself. if she but loves
me, all will somehow come right"
He went first to his own room and sat
down, looking before him in dazed way.
Would it all come right? Did he believe
that? Was he trying to deceive himself
at the last? Then for the sake of action
and to keep thought away as much as
possible he put his clothes and books
IN his trunk, locked and addressed it.
Even when that was done he hesitated.
A tumult seemed striving to tear his
heart asunder. His hands We're like ice.
Il must go to her. / must. Why de-
lay longer"
He found her leaning against the melo-
deon, her fingers buried in the fur Of
the little white kitten he had often teased.
Her face was perfectly colorless. She
looked at him steadfastly, coldly and ut
tered no word. 1t was evident she had
heard his voice in the hall and was wait
ing for him.
There was q long and painful silence
The words that came thronging to Toms
lips were those he dared not speak.
"You have come to say goodby," Vir-
ginia said abruptly, still bending upon
his face that full, disconcerting gaze. Il
heard all you said to father. There is
no need to go over it again"
She held out her hand, and he seized it
eagerly, only to find it cold and unre-
sponsive Oh, if she but uttered one
pleading word, one reproach, that he
might i'll some measure defend himself!
But this chilling repose was wall which
shut him away from her.
''Do not mlsJudge me-" he burst out
passionately, his voice broken, and at the
words she looked away. II am going
away for time to work hard, very
hard. And | want to believe that your
good wishes go with me, that you still re-
main my friend"
No reply, but her eyes were upon him
again, as eloquent with reproach as the
eyes of the murdered Caesar gazing on
the face of Brutus.
That look told all. He felt it in his
inmost heart. He knew himself con-
temptible. But Delatole's worldly wise,
humorously cynical counsel was with
him, impressive and significant as the
tenets of new creed to convert.
He dropped her cold hand in silence
and half turned away.
''I'll come and see you very often, Vir-
ginia, if may" he said haltingly. "New
York is not wilderness, you know.
Whenever my work permits, I'll come
and have chat with you, just-just the
same"
The words died on his lips. He knew
he lied. He knew it would be long ere
he should choose to see her changed face,
if indeed ever again.
Her silence maddened him.
"Have you nothing to say, Virginia.
"Goodby," she said, and smiled-but
such smile! There were agony and scorn
in it,
els that alp
She held up her little head proudly,
and again from her pale, tense lips came
a murmur clear and defiant:
"Goodby."
Then her eyes closed. When she look
ed up, he was gone.
Her body seemed weighted, and she
moved with an effort to the window,