The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1894-03-22

ana silent, half angry with her and en-.
ragged ct the world. Her father had re.
turned after one Of his bad days, when
the remembrance Of all he had misused
and lost stung him to drink and perhaps
to find the ghost Of his old pleasures In the
hazy enchantment offered by strong liq-
nor.
All, there was hope for Tom. he
would forget this disappointment. BE
would Join the race again. He had still
q lance to throw. But poor old dadl
Perhaps she did not half guess what
thoughts tortured him. She knew his
annuity trickled through his fingers now
in small personal extrsvagances Just as
the thousands had gone when she was
little child, but she could not blame him.
To dress presumably and drop in upon
old friends for chat and glass Of port,
sometimes to dine with them in the club
where once he had shone with unequaled
briliiancy or to pay for an orchestra
chair when an old comedy was present.
ed were the surviving Joys of his deca-
dence. His friends did not know in
what corner Of the town he had hidden
himself, did not remember he had q
daughter. Frequently he forgot that fact
himself. And meanwhile Virginia work.
ed and saved. stealing only odd moments
for her reading and music, practicing
depressing economies that robbed her
cheeks Of color and sometimes gave to
her deep eyes an expression Of fear.
But she loved the old man. Her pity
for what she termed his misfortunes
made her tender to his faults. Not so
Tom. who had watched the pitiful little
tragedy for two years. This exhausted
spendthrift, this cold materialist with
dreamer's eyes. this autocrat with voice
of honey, suave, dainty, well hammered,
he disliked as much as his native genial.
ity permitted.
Tom threw himself on q lounge and
shading his moody eyes from the lamp
light watched Virginia as she went light
ly from cupboard to table, noted the
streak Of wavering pink staining her
cheek, the eagerness with which she hur-
ried to anticipate her fathers maudlin
requests.
"Ah, Virginia, how stoical you arel
how steadfasti how tender and passion
ateI' he thought, deep, warm pity rush.
Ing into his heart.
And he had been impatient with her
for telling him an unpalatable truth,
had ragged at one more defeat and turned
from her in bitterness! He had dared
to do thisi Had he forgotten how often
he had seen her smile in the face Of dc
spair?
His repentance, like all his moods, was
quick and intense, the desire to make
amends tormenting, unappeasable. He
wanted to tell her what brute he felt
himself. He was conscious of q sudden
warm impulse to fold her in his arms
and comfort her.
The physical helplessness Of womanl
What a lovable misfortune it must al
ways seem to strong mani Every move
ment of Virginia's young figure, the sub
dued expression of her proud little
mouth, the dauntless pose of her head
appealed to him, awaking the instinct Of
protection until it throbbed an impor-
tunate fire in his heart.
"If I could help herr he thought, with
savage longing.
While regarding her more intently
than he knew, her eyes, those lovely eyes
more green than brown and tonight
more golden than green, met his in q
questioning, entreating fashion, and the
look stirred him strangely. A warm food
poured over his heart. His veins pulsed
heavily with an incomprehensible fever
never known before, and the pain Of it
was nervous and sweet.
As he had felt for o brief moment when
he stood by her side in the mysterious
twilight, so he felt now, only the strange
ness, the pain, the delight, were intensi-
fed a hundredfold. He drew his breath
with feeling Of awe.
After dinner he sat down to read. It
was useless. His heartbeats were hot
and thick. A medley of indefinite spec
clations crept between him and the
printed page.
He threw himself upon his bed and
tried to think what he should do, now
that he had forsworn the ministry and
the possibility of success as dramatist
had shriveled under that days blight.
But that was useless too. He started to
his elbow and looked with excited eyes
into the darkness.
He felt he was not alone. 1t was as if
presence stood at his side, new truth
upon its lips, gift within its hand.
do you not know mel" avoice of crys-
tai sweetness seemed to whisper. II
come to all men sooner or laterl Some find
me carly and some when youth is gone.
! come by strange ways. Iweave strange
spells. The heart that once feels my
lava touch is never the same again
There is naught to Withstand me. Fol
am Love-"
CONTINUED