Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1895-12-19
"Ruths speak! Tel me voroyrme,

"RuthT speak, 1cll me yoprovymel
You hurt me-" she says, family,
striving to free herself from his firm
grasp. She raises her agonizcd eyes to
his, and then she is clasped in his arms.
For one instant she lies passive, then
frees herself with a wrench.
Leave me- she says, unsteadily;
why do you come, now that it is too
late? You must CO. Good-by." She
holds out her hand in dismissal and
farewell.
His passion completely overmasters
him as he looks upon her, pale and sor.
row stricken.
II will not co. he cries, vehement
"; Ruth, you donot you cannot mean
1t, For your own sake He ad.
vances quickly, but she repels him.
For my own sake and yours, go"
And then he knows that all Is ended.
With one farewell look he leaves her.
and goes out Of the room, while she
sinks YEARLY into her chair, q dull,
aching pain tearing at her heart
strings,
Time slips by insensibly. A new
beauty has rsurped Lady Berringtons
position in society, from which she has
now withdrawn herself. Her husband
is dead--killed himself in the hunting
fcld-and she is free to come and 20 as
she will. The great town is suffered
and empty, and she has flown TO the
restful quietudc Of Pens court, the
home OF her childhood, which she has
bought back as home for herself in
her lonely widowhood. Then wild
hopes fill her heart. Now that he
knows she Is really free, Maurice will
surely come to her-he must know.
These hopes are strengthened when, at
a dinner party, she hears the familiar
name mentioned. He Is coming to stay
with some distant neighbors-ah 1t is
to be near her he Is coming at last. As
each day passes she waits feverishly for
his coming; and still he comes not, AS
each long summer day wanes she whis.
pers; Tomorrow he will come" and
tomorrow passes, and still he comes
not. Then, one evening, as she sits
peacefully under the cedar trees on the
green lawns, resting in the cool even
ing air, full Of sweet, faint perfume
from the glowing flower beds on the
velvety turf, maid appears from the
house.
IA gentleman in the drawing-room,
my lady," she says. HE gave no
name"
Ruth, with wild hope, rises slowly
and walks over the lawn, her black
dress sweeping over the grass, her pale
cheeks tinged with pink color as she
mounts the shallow steps and enters
the cool, shadowy room, full Of flowers
and delicious perfumes waited in on
The evening air.
A man Is standing with his back to-
ward her, but as her dress sweeps over
The soft carpet he turns and faces her.
A quivering smile flashes into her sweet
gray eyes, and she holds out both hands
with little glad cry;
"Ah, Mauricel At last, at last"
Something In bis unresponsive att.
Jude strikes cold chill to her heart,
,as he forgotten?
II could not pass your neighborhood
without looking you up, Lady Berring.
on, he says, easily. How lovely this
,lace Isl Are you living here alto
yether2"
Ruth feels her throat and lips are
,arched and dry, but she answers him
With an effort.
eyes; could not endure that dreary
own house--after--' 1
Eyes, yes he says, hastily; after
our terrible bereavement; you are for.
innate to have been able to secure the
Id place in time; am paying flying
isit to the Carews, at Marsh hall; you
NOW them, OF coursel' ,
Very slightly - then you do not
tay long7n
mot long There are many prepara-
ions to be made before April with a
mile, before my wedding have
ot heard? Juliet Carew will be my
vife in q few months time; may ask
or your congratulations for auld lang :,
yne'2'
The blood rushes with wild food to {
.uth heart, leaving her sick and cold
swims before her tired eyes '
she must speak. . She makes '
u effort.
II hope--I sincerely trust-you may b
Q happy she says, little unsteadily; i
must call on Miss Carew.n 0
"You are very kind" he says. with i
Is happy smile. How familiar this
lace seems, Our days Of Irritation are
! an end, Lady Bennington; ah, one :
oes foolish things in the heyday Of D
outh, but you showed yourself to be p
lie woman, q