The National tribune., 1893-02-23

that is why it had been cowardice in me not to
have said all this. / wanted to justify myself.
Perhaps i have been mistaken. Perhaps
have presumed too much-you have not thought
of me in that way at all, and / have only made
myself ridiculous. Butt do not think so.
II am very incoherent. ! fear. But now
there is only the farewell to be said between
you and me. between the quiet life and the life
of glitter and glare, for there can Re no fusion
possible between the two"
For long time neither of them spoke. The
darkness of the room had grown intenser; the
frelight more spectral. From the distance the
hoarse rumble of railway train passed by with
a mutteriug as of thunder. The sound took
his thoughts, passively quiverng in the relief
from their late effort, far away-to the city.
He shuddered slightly as he thought that
truly as he had spoken-he had said nothing
about the other one. 1t was her spell over him
as much as the hatred the old place filled him
with that had made him so cruel to the girl
there in that room. The picture Of that other
one rose before him clearly-the ciearcut, aris-
tocratic face, with the eloquent, fawn-like eyes;
the vivacious brilliancy of her disposition and
intellect her consummate refinement. An orchid
did an orchid boast an Intoxicating perfume
could not be more symbolic of all the careful
culture of an aesthetic civilization. All the
centuries with their wisdom and their perpet-
uai upward tendencies had achieved nothing
finer more perfect than such radiant creature
as she. The fine subtleties of her w.t. her
whilom righteousness OF manner-ah, how
charming it all was to him His lips. uncon-
sciously almost moved to a smile as the vision
of her rose before him. For moment only
that smile fingered there; long enough to be
reflected. by the freight, into that other pair
of eyes opposite.
She had been silent too, because she had been
thinking in labored, dull sort of way. that she
ought 10 deny all his Prescriptions. Yet for
few moments, she could not. 1t was true she
had loved him. But he, she saw now, had
never loved her. If he had, no mere trumpery
difference between localities could ever have
brought him to act the craven's part. The
international novel was desd-letter to her.
She argued only with her heart, which. but
now beating passionately for the man who was
about to leave her. was now beating with fierce
anger towards herself and him. The seeting
smile on his face gave her, in some mysterious,
alembic way, the key to his thoughts. The
love in her heart died out at sight of that
smile. 1t gave way to an almost splendid con-
tempt.
"Oh," she said, speaking rapidly and fiercely,
"what coward you are! And what grotesque
presumption you have to think that L loved
you / wonder if anyone has ever done any.
thing like this before. They say that you
have originality as an author, but am sure
this Why could you not say: want to marry
a fine lady, and shall be too refined hereafter
to even endure the memory of our friendship.
That would have been honest, and no less
brutal. But no, you must needs accuse me OF
having (how hard the voice grew, and what
sneer there was in it now loved you, and then
apologize for not reciproeating You are really
very ridiculous. Don't you think you mac bet
ter go?"
She got up and opened the door for him.. She
seemed to him, in the critical apsrtness with
which he had grown to judge all persons and
things TO have grown suddenly magni fcent in
her anger. Yet it was pity, he thought, that
she should choose to take it all in that light
He found his hat. and put out his hand to bid
her good-by.
No" she said, her voice sounding almost
metallic in its hardness, we might as well be-
gin to forget each other as soon as we can. /
am sure it will be easy"
II am sorry you - the cold look in her
eyes brought him to himself again. Good
by" he said, and went out with the dusk and
the sense of defeat closing in OH him.
Within, in the room he had so ingloriously
passed from. there was sound OF sobbing.
The gentle spirit, so sternly nerved to an out.
ward show of scorn and apathy had relapsed
from the tension-had given itself up to its bit
ter grief with a sense of relief that would have
been Joyous had il not been SO sad How bitter
the wrench WAS, how deep the wound of the
love plucked out, the violence of her passionate
sobbing told.
In the midst of binding burst OF tears the
wind borne roar of the east-bound express
brought her suddenly to the sense of realizing
that the train bore him away from her forever;
and with a dry sob. a fercely seif.apologetic
dabbing of her handkerchief to her eyes, she
closed that chapter of her life with sigh that
should have, but did not wiring the heart of the
traveller cityward who, as the last lights of the
village faded away into the dark and the past,
murmured cynically to himself "Good-by, my
village life" and settled himself more comfort
ably in the cushions.