Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1895-01-24


the very nearest relative now left to
Mademoiselle Jardine."
"Yes, yes, | am very grateful And
she, too, poor child she cannot but be-
grateful, also, for the monsieurs good
ness. Let us CO.
So they went together-the old man
talking volubly and cordially, the
younger one replying in little more
than monosyllables, through the al
ready empty streets OF the little town,
CHAPTER vi.
There are two kinds of love-man's
love; ] am not speaking of woman's
Just now. The first born OF sunshiny
selflsm, basSing in pleasure, shrinking
from any pain, either its own or that
Of the object beloved, which is, for the
time being, itself, the second, strong
as tender, while equally capable OF
pleasure, fears not pain, either per-
sonal or v.Garious. Sorrow, suffering,
the helplessness Of failing powers, only
rouse in it deeper passion, q fonder
care. Happy the woman who has
found resting-place there She need
fear neither sickness nor sorrow, old
age or beauty's decline. Living, how
ever sad and broken life, she will be
cherished to the last, and dying, she
will be mourned eternally.
Such a love, though he knew it not
at the time-indeed, he hardly knew
himself at all, so suddenly and strange
lY had circumstances developed his
dormant nature-such love, in all its
devotedness and intensity, had taken
possession of Roderick's heart for his
cousin" Silence.
He did not attempt to see her that,
of course, was impossible; and he felt
capable Of making any sacrifice or eX-
ercising any self-restraint for her sake;
but 1t seemed as if only to be near her,
throwing over her the faithful shield
Of his silver love, was at once consola-
tion and q protection
He walked the streets till all lights
were out, except that solemn one
which marked tho death chamber; and
then, with q blessing on his lips and q
prayer in his heart-young man as he
was, Roderick was not ashamed to pray
he departed.
Next morning, at the very earliest
hour he could venture without exciting
suspicion, he was at the Reyniers'
door, to hear all that was to be heard
concerning Mile, Jardine, and to vol
unteer any help that he delicately
could to the professionalism, he saw,
was little perplexed and impractical
in arranging the details of the funer-
al. Nay, it being pelting wet day,
and the old man very rheumatic, he
succeeded in being allowed himself to
go and choose the grave, in the pretty
cemetery which all the Neuchatellerois
are so proud of, and wnere he had
been taken by Mile. Jardine herself
one sunshiny Sunday afternoon, almost
the first Sunday he came to the town.
Coming back to the Reyniers, he ex-
planned all he had done in the most
fnatter-of-fact and unconditional way,
He seemed suddenly to have gained
the power of unlimited self-restraint,
for her sake. To do everything for her
that could possibly be done, and never
to let her know it, was all he desired.
The third day was arranged for the
funeral. The only communication that
passed between him and Mile. Jardine
had been a request he had sent by
Sophie Reynier, that he might be al
lowed to attend it, in right Of relation
ship, and Silence sent him word back
that she was grateful. "
This done, there was no more to be
done for her; nothing but to wander
restlessly about through the long
dreary winter day, and wonder how she
was bearing it. The very hardest bit
to him of all this time was those few
hours when, having done all that was
possible for him to do, and having no
excuse for iniicting himself further on
the Reynier family, he went back to
the hotel, and tried to lead his ordi-
nary life there eating, drinking and
sleeping; for he had no young mems
small vices; he thought billiards dull,
and detested smoking. He could not,
this night even read, and it was not
until he woke next morning that it
occurred to him he ought to write
again to his mother, who would just
be receiving his letter of two days be-
fore,