The herald., 1894-11-08

one ise4qulsluo, ConHued the guest
to Mrs. Page in half whisper. The
lady assented. "But you are''-- He
hesitated ard stopped short.
LET us go to the piazza. tt is cooler
there"
Mrs. Page led the way, and Furman,
hesitating still, followed. She found a
seat and he another.
"But you," he added at last, "you
are perfect"
She shut and unfurled her fan with q
nervous click, bat presently her hand
fell to her side. He caught it up and
kissed the finger tips. She drew it from
! him hastily.
'It is the climate that affects you,
and you fancy it is |, !" she said, smiling
| family.
"It is you! tits your' he murmured.
"Weli, it is let it rest so. "
But | cannot rest" he insisted 81
love you" He started, shocked at his
own temerity, and as her eyeIids droop-
ed he would have caught her hand.
IF you do love me, say nothing I"
She looked in his face with wide open
| eyes and Strengthened herself in the
| chair.
''If the major should even imagine"-
| An expressive gesture completed the
sentence.
Furman nodded, confident and as
sured. The thought of the major had nc
fears for him.
Mrs. Page looked cautiously around
tfRa1ir,1a'c rnnthov- - pl, ho
drove to suicide He suspected she was
flirting with the handsome son of a
near neighbor. He had him out and shot
him, and yet it is not for that reason
fear, for have no intention of flirting
with you. You know that, because"--
Don't hunt for a reason. "
Mrs. Page laughed, but it sounded
thin, as forced laughter always does
and she agitated her fan with sudden
vigor. "1t may not be, " she murmured
and as she turned to him it seemed that
her eyes were compassionate, sympathet.
ic even, awake to possibilities, yet care
less of results.
my poor boy" she said, with lit
tie sigh, "don't you know that you are
absurd? Yet, believe me, l am grateful
for your homage. What you have said
would please any woman, and were /
younger-well, then, were / free, since
you will have it SOL would find it
very pleasant indeed. But there are
many pleasant things that may not be-
Tomorrow or next day you will go, and
week later you will be signing at the
feet of some creole beauty, and if you
think of me at all then it will be but
with SMILE"
She was smiling, too, and as he look
ed at her Furman thought he had never
seen any woman fairer, more debonair,
nor yet more sensibly just than she.
IF l vex you, he said, looking in
subordinate and cross, II will not
speak, but at least you might stay. ]
will promise this''--
Whatever he was about to promise,
Mrs. Page never knew, for in the wide
doorway Belinda's white robed figure
suddenly appeared
sit is getting late, is it not?'' Mrs
Page inquired for countenance sake
Belinda's expressive shoulder moved in
disdainful shrug as clock in the dis
tance chimed family. Indeed" she
continued, 1--WE had better go in. F"
She moved from tho piazza, and all
three entered the house. The hallway
was unlighted. A flicker from an open
door lighted the farther end Passing
from the starlight of the gallery the
gloom of the hallway seemed intense
Furman reached forth his hand, and in
the dark encountered that of some one
else. What impulse moved him he could
not say, but putting his face forward he
pressed his lips softly to the cheek OF
the owner of the hand.
In his own room Furman dropped on
seat and loosened his necktie with q
thrust of his thumb. Through the open
window came-a moist heaviness subtle
as the atmosphere of seraglio.
II must go tomorrow, he told him
self and tried to map out his departure
in his mind. Fro,nlacross the hall faint
footsteps reached his ear. He heard q
whispering voice. A door closed, and
from somewhere in the great house the
subdued striking of a clock was heard. 1t
was midnight, he knew. Slowly he un.
tied the latchet of shoe and sat gazing
through the open window. In his I'M
hearing ears the hum of myriads of in
sects sounded, and to his unheeding eyes
the stars still danced their saraband
The river seemed to call and the night
to wait
Cutting his meditations suddenly
short, he produced match and lighted
his lamp. He could not go to bed, and
he would write to Mrs. Page, though
what he would say to this matter of fact
ilvinity he did not know. After he had
produced pen and paper he sat for long
time wondering how he should address
her. Dear Mrs. Page, that would not
do for such an epistle as he intended his
to be, and he did not even know her
Christian name. Finally he let the sub
ject of the name rest and began the body
of the letter
''Last night-it seems a year ago
There are people whom we meet, peo-
pie who disturb us with suggestions
that have gone before. When saw you
and heard your voice last evening, there
came to me "reminiscences of earlier and
forgotten days 1t was not of the present
| thought, but Of a past remembered
had dreamed. 1t was like a tangled
sIein. Ono after another the threads
unloosed, and as they separated from
each parting knot memory returned.
You were not stranger. You were %
friend had lost. l could have sat with