The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1894-07-26

been so dazzlingly turned upon him as
now. And there was suppressed sadness
in her tone, spite of the bitter words-a
world of feeling growing in the eyes into
which he looked. That nameless thrill
of feminine contact-softer than the
mesmerist's spell, more dangerous than
the serpent charm-drew about the man.
closer and more resistless.
There was nothing awkward in the
silence now, yet it seemed unbearable to
him. He spoke as men often do, so
moved-at random:
81 never dreamed you were senti-
mental!'
81 never was sentimental" she an
swered slowly. mo; even when, once
in my life, knew that l-lovedr'
She raised her eyes full to his. They
glowed in their black depths with some
thing which might be the memory of
dead passion, might be its living and
burning reality. But, as the eyes drop
ped quickly, the voice was unmoved in
its rich music that added:
Had been sentimental l had never
been his-wife!"
"But-you seem SO happy together!
AS his words sounded on his own ear
Latour felt that the cavalry colonel was
foundering, deeper than the cadet had
ever done.
"Seem? Society is exigeant, and we
English" put bitter emphasis upon
the words-"are so different from the
Egyptians. We hide our skeletons. Be-
sides, it would be triumph for the
stately and bloodless automatons recog-
nized by her gracious majesty annually
as the MaNindale dowager peeresses to
suppose that was unhappy"
81 do not understand Latour began
abruptly; but she answered before he
finished;
Certainly you do not. Men never do,
as ! told you before the Sphinx today
but | am not unhappy in the least
about that. am only dreadfully weary
of it all-the forms, the boredom and the
acting"
And he suspects" His voice was
eager, and he leaned toward her with
his old Creole impetuosity.
mo, he does not suspect" she an
swered rather YEARLY. Gle knows
told him in Paris, six weeks ago, that a
quiet separation and a residence abroad
might be pleasanter to us both"
"And he refused! No man could give
you up without more reason!" Latoul
said with i'll suppressed vehemence.
Eyes, he loves me, and he know.
he will have no more reason. The
seventeenth Lady Martindale respects
Edith Van der Huysen too much ever to
forfeit her good opinion"
She turned away her face, the same
expression on it as when, ten years be-
fore, she sat with him by the Hudson
waiting for the words that never came
The lines of that face We're tirmer now
set determination about the lips
Suddenly the eyes, darkened near tt
blackness, glowed with a passionate
yearning in them. In the deep shadow
between them his hand rested lightly
r TREMENDOUSLY upon hers.
+ and sadly, not moving her face; ;"
= motherless girl, foster reared by society
} with an old name and false position t
$ support. What was l but-an advent
, uress? No, do not deprecate the ugl
1 word. 1t is Gods truth. had to bu
my future-unless destiny could be II
: versed, and the man worshiped care
| for me! And to buy it had only-m,
selfr'
e Lord Martindale, the British banke
0 and Sir Roger moved toward them, b
a meath the palms. Lady Martindale DIRE
v on the long glove she had removed. Tie
+ voice was the usual one as she still locke
toward the others and said quietly:
T 81 have found that women who mari
f for independence are like states TIL
o combine for it. Neither get it witho,
II "a revolution!'
l. The three Englishmen were very nea
h almost within earshot, as she rose, ad
ing:
Y Eyes, was an adventures the
d Now | am worse; am failure, Adrlen
IT She spoke his name without emphas
D. but it thrilled his ear like music. Il
It heart beat faster than it ever had in 1
B. their Filtration" days A dull sense
wonderment was about his brain
N query sounding in it, if he had real
Re been fit to comprehend her in all the
At wasted days of the long ago-if really
ID comprehended himself now!
r And once more, rs the others reach
e, them, he muttered to himself:
w sis it kismet?"