The Wilmington daily Republican., 1895-08-15
LOST REVENGE.

The news OF his death came upon her as
blow. There could be no doubt Of that.
She had never anticipated that he would
die 80 soon, while tho rosebushes were all
in flower, and tho nightingales were awake
in the coppice, and the sun had the glow
and the shadows tho cool reticence pecul-
lar to the earlier days Of the summer. She
had never anticipated that he would die at
all while she was alive. It seemed SO un-
likely. She was such delicate slip of o
snow white maiden, with the vagueness Of
the undiscovered country in her great
brown eyes, with the trouble Of a tragic
future In the curving lips Of her tremulous
rosebud mouth. And he had been SO strong
so terribly strong. The iron Of his great
arms might have held up world, she
thought. His voice was the voice Of tho
ruler. In his,e athreattning command
dwelt always. And now he was dead. She
had Just heard SO, and scarcely any one
knew 1t yet. His mighty frame was
stretched out In the room below-the gar
don room, where she generally sat at even-
ing; the garden room to which one some
times came as evening fell. But she did
not think Of that Immediately. That the
world would 90 on just as usual now all
was so changed for her did not occur to
her. The man below had been her husband,
and he was dead. She could only think Of
that at first.
How she had hated himl
He had bought her as the wife he desired.
So surely, he must have once loved her.
But he had never shown 1t. She had feared
him terribly that very first day, when they
went away together from the church, down
the fat, gray road by the almshouses,
where tho old women stood bobbing In the
rain, over the village green haunted by
wandering geese, whose feathers were
blown the wrong way by the wind that
stormy day Of their marriage. He must
have once desired her. How he had stared
at her In the shadow Of tho shut carriage,
while the hoofs of the horses splashed In
the puddles Of the country road. His eyes
never left her. They were slightly blood
shot and looked excited as they travelled
over her face, and his full lips moved un-
der his black mustache. But he said moth
ing.
How she had hated himi
The morning after their wedding she
had tried to escape from him. She slipped
out of tho great Lord Warden hotel at Do
yer in the gray dampness Of the dawn
when he was sleeping. The sullen seq,
which they were to cross presently, roared
In her ears, and the sea gulls cried to her
from the foam fieeked pebbles OF the steep.
ly curylng beach. The hull Of steamer
doomed on the ragged horizon, and the rain
drove over the shining asphalt ways. Two
or three sailors hanging about with peaked
caps drawn down above their wet faces and
hunched shoulders, peered at her as she
orept from the hotel, grain Of humanity
swept by tho whirlwind. How cold it was,
and how desolatel In tho wind came to
her the strangled whistle Of an engine, and
then she knew she was too late. Tho train
was flashing away as she struggled on
against the tempest. She returned to his
embrace.
How she had hated himi
And they travelled together. The snow
peaks of Switzerland; tho green valleys,
where the chalets rested on the steep slopes
ns II tired and pausing but for momenti
the blue lakes of Italy; the old, sad cities,
with their streets full of the echoes Of dead
voices; the weary ruins, passively enduring
shrill calling tourists; the vineyards,
where life was laughter and was song-shs
had seen them all with him. She hated
them ALL Even the fiat reaches Of the ven.
erable Nile and the rose gardens Of Damas
Gus were loathsome to her. She had
watched the flame blue line Of Arabs wind
away beneath the flame blue sky. She had
heard the tinkling bells of caravans ant
the wild chant Of the sailors sweep up from
the pallid gray green mimosa bushes, and
sho had only sickened and longed to dio
She had only longed to die. And now hi
lay dead, and she could hear the nightin
gales beginning to flute. Yet was sh,
gladY
They had come back to England. Peo
pie enyied her. Women murmured hil
name as she passed by, murmured it in ad
miration, while the blood famed In hel
check at thought that she was his. TIL,
great world took her for awhile, took hei
and gave to her only such profound weari
ness, In the park, as her victoria stood
against the railings in the hot sun, and tn,
murmur of society rippled round her be
meath the trees and the queens of society
and the courtesans who were the recognized
queens-the sinner incognita and tn,
queen incognita-passed her by, she sick
ened again and thought Of the rose gar
dens of Damascus and of the flame blu,
limo of tho Arabs and wondered IL tn,
world could give to her nothing, IL hi,
shadow must be upon everything, like tn,
shadow of fate brooding black over tn,
pleasaunoe of life. She wondered In 4
malady of dreaming and the voices undel
tho trees said she posed, because for ,
moment she ceased to think of them. Ther
she drove home as the twilight gatheret
about the city and tried to hush 1t all, II
vain. She dreaded the falling Of night q
children dread the grave.
How she had hated himl
And then golden thread twined int
| the web of her tangled young life. One
In the midst Of tho Ignorant and the care
less, understood that she was in the prison
| house of despair and staid awhile outsid,
the grating of her cell to whisper of oom
BORT. Tho dew fell upon the poor parchss