The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1894-05-25
SHIPS THAT PASS
IN THE NIGHT.
BY BEATRICE .HARRADEN.

noi. Tho little French danseuse and her
poodle had left for Monte Carlo. M. Ii
chinsky and his mother passed on to the
Tyrol, where madame would no doubt
have plenty OF opportunities for quarrel
Ing, or not finding them would certainly
make them without any delay, by this
means keeping herself in good spirits and
her son I'm bad health. There were some,
too, who had hurried off without paying
their doctors, being, of course, those who
had received the greatest attention and
who had expressed the greatest gratitude
In their time OF trouble, but who were Of
opinion that thankfulness could very well
take the place of francs--an opinion not
entirely shared by the doctors themselves.
The Swedish professor had betaken him
self off, with his chessmen and his chess
board. The little Polish governess who
ciutched so eagerly at her paltry winnings,
caressing those centimes with the same
fondDcss and fever that greater gambler
Srasps his thousands Of francs--she had
left too And indeed most Of Bernardine's
acquaintance had gone their several ways
after six months constant intercourse and
companionship, saying goodby with the
same indifference as though they were
saying good morning or good afternoon.
This cold heartedness struck Bernardine
more than once, and she spoke OF IL to
Robert Allitsen. II was the day before her
own departure, and she had gone down
with him TO the restaurant and sat slipping
her coffee and making her complaint.
"Such indifference is astonishing, and
It is sad too. cannot understand it,"
she said
THAT IL because you are goose" he re-
piled, pouring out some more coffee for him.
SER, and, as an afterthought, for her too.
You pretend 10 know something about
the human heart, and yet you do not seem
to grasp the fact that most of US ARE very
little interested In other people They for
us a,si we for them can SPAR only small
fractim Of time and attention. We may
perhaps think TO the contrary, believing
that We occupy an important position in
their lives, until one day, when we are
feeling most confident of our value, we see
an unmistakable sign, given quite uncon-
sciousiy by our friends, that we are after
all nothing TO them. We can be done with
out, put on one side and forgotten when
not present. Then il we are foolish we are
wounded by this discovery, and we draw
back into ourselves. But IL we are wise
we draw back into ourselves without be-
ing wounded, recognizing as fair and rea-
sonable that people can only have time
and attention for their immediate belong
ings Isolated persons have to learn this
lesson sooner or later, and the sooner they
do learn IL the better"
And you," she asked, "you have
learned this lcssonr"
Long ago, +" he said decidedly.
you take hard view of life, she said
life has not been very bright for me-"
ne answered. But own that have not
cultivated my Sarden, and now IL is too
late-the weeds have sprung up every
where Once or twice / have thought
lately that would begin TO clear away the
weeds, but l have not the courage now.
And perhaps 1t does not matter much"
Il think IL docs matter" she said gen.
tly. But l am no better than you, for
have not cultivated my garden"
1T would not be such difficult. busi-
ness for you as for me- she said, smiling
sadly.
They left the restaurant and sauntered
out together.
And tomorrow you will be gone" I" he
said
Il shall miss you," Bernardine said.
That Is simply question Of time" he
remarked. Il shall probably miss you at
first. But we adjust ourselves easily to al
tered circumstances-mercif A few
days, few weeks at most, and then that
state OF becoming accustomed called by
pious folk resignation.
Then you think that the everyday CON-
panionship, the everyday exchange of
thought and ideas, counts for little Oh
nothingG" she asked.
"1hav is about the color of It, he an
swercd in his old, gruff way.
She thought of his words when she was
packing-the many pleasant hours were
10 count for nothing. For nothing the lit
tie bits OF fun, the little displays of temper
and vexation, the snatches of serious talk,
the contradictions and all the petty details
of six months close companionship.
He was not different from the others
who had parted from her so lightly. No
wonder, then, that he could sympathi7e
with them.
That last night at Petershof Bernar-
dine hardened her heart against the Disa-
grecable Man.
II am glad am able to do so, she said |
to herself. 1T makes 1t easier for me to |
Then the vision OF a forlorn figure rose |
before her. Aud the little hard heart sof- |
tened at once.
In the morning they breakfasted togeth- |
er as usual. There was scarcely any con- |
versation between them. He asked for her |
address, and she told him that she was GO
Ing back 10 her uncle who kept the second
hand bookshop in Stone street.
Il will send you guidebook from the
Tyrol, he explained. Il shall be going |
there in week or two to see my mother 4"
Il hope you will find her in good
health, she said.
Then 1t suddenly flashed across her
mind that he had told her about his one
great sacrifice for his mothers sake She
looked up at him, and he met her glance
without flinching.
Ho said goodby to her at the foot of the
staircase.
1t was the first time she had ever shaken
hands with him.
"Goodby," he said gently. GOOD luck
TO you"
"Goodby," she answered.
He went up the stairs and turned round
as though he wished TO say something