Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1894-05-11
CHAPTER XIII.
LOVE YOU, RALPH, F"


Joyce, generously slumbering upon
his barrel, was aroused and the horses
brought from their temporary stables in
the village. The first portion Of the
homeward ride was performed in 81
lence. The reaction from the intense
mental and physical strain which
Monckton had undergone for so many
hours left him depressed and little
morose. Imogene, on the contrary, was
busy with sweet thoughts. She pos
sessed knowledge the want of which
made him unhappy-she knew she loved
him, while he. with the blindness which
affects the cleverest men where women
are concerned, particularly if they are
in love, never suspected the truth. He
believed that he had won her respect.
He would almost have preferred her
hatred. That would at least have been
something positive, something to put
him on his mettle and sting his pride
awake. But respect! You may 60 to
the funeral of a man you respect and
talk stocks or politics in the carriage.
lift your hat at the grave and return
home with the sense of a disagreeable
duty performed. You respect good, wor.
thy, uninteresting people, virtuous bores
and fine old gentlemen who have lost
all their hearing and part of their wits
because you do not know what else to
do with them. But such is not our feel
ing for the one whose feet make sacred
ground where they pass. and whose
name is delicious music.
With ideas like these running in his
brain, it is not astonishing that Ralph
Monckton held his head down, silent and
disinclined to speak. But Imogene, rid
ing beside him, smiled mysteriously
from time to time and gazed at him
with eyes whose sweet confession was
hidden by the darkness. At length, how
ever. her happiness overlooked at her
lips.
Ralph" she said, ARE you not
proud?''
"Proudl" he repeated, coming out of
his reverie with a start. Proud Of
what?"
"Of being hero," she replied, "for
you are hero. you know. Ralph"
"You are either exaggerating or
laughing at me. he said, Struggling his
shoulders-a French trick of which she
meant to cure him when-well, when
he understood And how dull he was
not to understand! IF the former, /
suppose must thank You. II the lat
ter, no doubt I have given you reason
enough"
There were tears in her eyes. II
think You have done q grand, noble.
beautiful thing. Ralph. And, oh,
Ralph. what should have done II you
had not come back to me from that hor.
rible mine!"
"Take care, Imogenel You are max.
ing me hope"
They had halted before the gate to
her dwelling. Help me down, Ralph"
For a moment, as he lifted her from
the saddle, he held her in his embrace.
She did not free herself; on the con.
trary. she put her arms about his neck
and drew his lips down to meet her own.
II love you. Ralph" she murmured.
"Oh, my dear! could you not seer"
Ralph Monckton and his affianced
wife were walking in the garden Of the
mansion Of which she was soon to be
the mistress. In the features and man
ner Of both happiness was clearly ex-
pressed, though in different way. With
him it was proud confidence, blended
with tender protectiveness. With her
1t was a sweet humility and that gentle
yielding up of personality which is, aft
er all, woman's real strength. She
hung upon his arm as IL she feared he
might melt away and be lost to her. She
watched his lips as he spoke, sometimes
thinking Of his words, and as often
thinking how handsome he was. At
such times she laid her cheek upon his
coat sleeve-where women get such
charming tricks can't imagine. Aud
once or twice as he talked she took his
hand and brushed her lips across 1t. an
act Of delicious homage which caused
him-perhaps it was meant to do 30
to draw her close to him and kiss her.