The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-06-17

wished. didn't itl''
so far" she answered ''it worked rs
I wished. Then she said that you were
the only person she had ever cared for,
and the only person who had ever left her
after caring for her"
And you, what did you sayl'
What you or anyone would have said
I told her that you loved her, that you had
only made a cOnfidante Of me. and that
was why we had been so much together. 3"
And she3"
she stood making a hairpin red-hOt in
the fame of the candle and running it
through the wax, and when told her
on, indeed, ] pleaded your cause more
warmly than l could have pleaded any
| cause OF my own-she said: Then he
does really care for me, he has cared for
me all the timer and l said Yes, you
had : and then she just said Goodnight
and went away"
''Yes2'i
This morning she told me she was
going TO marry young Rogers; she had
| been mistaken in her feelings about you,
and then J understood her to the very
core of her miserable little soul. She
can't care for any one, but she can't bear
to think there is anyone she knows whc
doesn't care for her. As long as she
thought you were somebody else's she
wanted you. When she found that you
We're hers, always had been hers. she
threw you away and took that Manches-
ter cad. am very sorry it has all turned
out wrong, but indeed, it would not have
turned out differently even if ] hadn't
tried to play providence for you"
We'll" he said, its all over. l must
bear it somehow, / suppose. Thank you
a thousand times for all you have done
and have tried to do for me-
She had risen from the stone and was
standing beside him as he looked forlornly
| no Y91feF 80 ,,ff ~
valley.
Il think will go home alone,' she
said. Il am tired of talking, and I am
ashamed of the whole thing. Forget it
and don't let US ever speak of it again,
will you9 1 hope you won't be very I'M
happy. Goodbye
He stood holding her hand minute
longer than she would have let it rest in
his,
But we are still friends, aren't WEI
That wasn't actingl'
No, that wasn't acting. Only don't
you see? we have nothing much left to be
friends about now. Goodbye"
He stood, sick at heart, seeking vainly
for some word that should keep her by
him little longer 1t came to him in
a swift rush-au that she had been to
him in these last two months and now, as
she said, there was nothing to be friends
about, and yet could they not be friends
with no ghost between them, no phantom
of his love for Lola!
She had not taken the usual path. 1t
seemed she was in haste TO part from him,
for she had chosen the steep and difficult
way up the sheer quarry side, danger
Gus way as he felt suddenly No he
could not let her go, not 90 that way. The
quarry side rose sharply above her. He
made step forward and found the
words:
Edith, - he cried, s'come back, come
down.
She started and turned her head. Her
eyes were half closed. They were dim
with tears which she could not stay.
Take care, 3" he cried, and ran toward
her through the furze bushes. Then,
suddenly-neither ever knew how il
happened-her feet slipped and he saw
her falling, falling. She fell with a sick
ening thud on the wet clay. He bounded
over the rocks and bushes and reached
her side She lay quite still, with one
arm doubled under her. Her hat had
| fallen off and her head lay on a cushion of
thick mud, so that at first he thought she
was not hurt much, not so very much.
But then he saw that her face was per-
fectly colorless, and that from one corner
of her mouth a drop of bright red blood
was slowly trucking down her cheek and
her white neck. Then he cried aloud and
flung himself on the ground beside her.
He got her in his arms and, at the touch
of her, Lola, his appointment, every
thing in the world had faded and only he
and she were left, and she was dead. He
would never hear her speak again, never
see her eyes turned his way, or see her
face light up at his approach He felt
that she was dead, ana then ne knew sud
denly, surely, that the light Of his life
had gone out with hers.
Edith! my life, my love, my heart,
come back! 1t is you l love"
But there came no answer. If he had
known his heart but five minutes before,
she would still have been his to try for
Now there was nothing nothing left. He
kissed her cold face all over. He felt
with strong sudden rush of hope if her
heart yet beat. He could not tell; he
thought not.
"Oh. my love, come back :"
He knelt beside her; her head dropped
back over his arm as he clasped her to
him and called through the growing
darkness of despair, Come back, my
love, come back"
One brown bare hand, feebly raised
touched his face for an instant and fell
again.
Edith, Edith, speak to me- he muir
INJURED hoarsely, sick with the mingliue
of hope and despair.
Her lips moved. He laid his ear to
them, and caught the low, faint whisper
Goodbye, my love, my GEAR, nothing
else matters now. l never loved anybody
but you"
The snow was thick on the ground, and
aud the brave sun above touched to a
million diamond points of light as the
bride came out of church leaning on hel
husbands arm. Her soft, white, fur.
trimmed gown swept over the crimson
carpet laid from church porch to lychgate
, When the carriage door had shut on the
two, and the coachman had whipped VI
the white-favored horses, the bride
groom's arm went round the bride
"Mine!" he said. my own, have vol
: nothing to say to me2'
And the bride laid her pale face to his
and said so softly that, but for the snow
on the ground, the carriage wheels woulC
, not have let him hear:
Nothing else matters now, / never
[ loved anybody but you"
How Brown Got His Monument.