The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1895-04-14

say some very bitter things.
cried. sAs IL you hadn't just as good as
said it was all my fault. But If you think
GREW n so ana neM ridi H extensions
Il don't think anything OF the sort,
Pauiina, said Miss Amy, looking like q
white chuddah, still puttering. about the
green stems in the. pots. as II that were
t toe we xna q think
Grey has any ridiculous pretensidns, al
though he. is the most noble the most
saw"
.'Oh, Miss Amy, isn't he?" cried. per-
fectly jubilant and forgetfuL And then I
bethought myself and dashed out of the
place and through the rosehouse. and felt
as if the outer world, into which 1 came
from all that soft warmth and the ecstatic
sweetness of the stephanotfs and the cool,
delicious scent of the violet beds, was no
colder than every ones heart was to me.
And here am, and there he is, / sup
pose, just walking up between his pome-
granate trees Listening to the MID music naG
birds, to the soft voices of the turtle doves,
and saying to himself, just az ne has said it
to me. just as he said once that King Solo
mon walking in his garden must have said
it. that the vines of the tender grape give a.
good ts hs IF th nat a 1nTy apWa neT We 10
he can't hinder. my thoughts from walking
there with him.
he can. He doesn't want my thoughts.
Val Wandley has gone, too. Her mother
thinks the, climate of middle Texas will
throat before Not that it signifies. But,
goodbye, Mr.. Theodore Grey. Goodbye
for good and ALL Perhaps it was Val and
her money that made it SO easy for you to
find material for quarrel in poor old
Cousin Bertram. Not that he is any older
than Theodore; but he is worlds more good.
/ may have to take him after all. He asked
me last night, the poor dear. Somebody
Just broke down then. | know he wouldn't
have asked me. let people say what they
would, of he hadn't felt sure it was all over
good, honest, faithful arms and confessed
he only wanted to make me happy and
never to remember that he had said it,
and he never expected TO be happy himself
any more-and--and in point of fact-I de-
clare it's. too absurd-he himself is in love
he says it's her heavenly sweetness. Oh
dear, We're all fools together. Well, he
can't have her now. And, perhaps, it's my
Its my duty, anyway, to forget there is or
ever was such a person as Mr.. Theodore
Grey.
Later still. Poor little diary you don't have
much attention. But I've been in whirl.
I've taken everything that came along,
blistering cold to do il; ! don't. care if I
There's no one dances the way Ted did, no
one drives the way Ted did, no one does
the best of it. The worst of it is that Cousin
Bertram has gone to Texas, too. It's perfect
Iy idle-I told him So, AS If he could take
her He told me-Bertram did-that I was
little Ounce. And told him he was a
too h9 Wbat an enW
world. The only satisfaction / have is a
box of gowns Aunt Arlington sent from
Paris. There were two trays with nothing but
white satin in them, gown and train, and
veil, and orange wreath and ALL Oh, my
Easter and she thought would want them.
There they lie, just like a beautiful corpse.
But the other things, the. smart trousseau
Theodore Grey how l am carrying sail. I
of a willow. I did wish he could have seen
me in that blue chiffon, Just perfect sky.
eases 81 stoppes ' Miss the poo
dear doesn't approve. of the world, but she
likes to see it in action, it has for her the
the devil "Oh," she said, you look like
an angel just coming into sight And y, you
NO l said, I'm not an angel, thank
.sOr badness" said She
IF I were an angel, | should be dead.
And you see ! am very much alivev said.
But, But, al the same, what, what am
1t is almost spring. I heard the robins
In Budblow swamp Yesterday, as | drove
new moon and Easter. Oh, last year this
time I was SO happy-who would think a
year would make such differences re Thee
nothing we cared for more than the after
Lent gaieties; we went to church on Easter,
each other. and Theodore said love was
like the ascension lilies. for 1t had risen
out of the darkness of the time before we
knew each other; just as they had from
the darkness of the underground: and he
sent me great armfuls of them afterward,
so that the room was filled with them; and
we went strolling out into the woods and
swamps, to catch the first starting of the
earth to light, and we felt that all the up
eli ~ ICrat With
beautiful relation to US and the new love.
Oh, why didn't | know that he was just
with her first lover-and he with his i'm
perial beauty, his serpent mind. opening
to her a world lovlier than the dearsearth
itself in spring, than heaven in dreams!
1t isn't dear earth to ne now. 1t seems
nothing more. than place of graves. /
don't know why let myself think 50 much
of that time. [ never will again. Theodore
Grey, indeed, Ten to one, he is another
woman's husband now.
Later.-There came a box of orange bios
SONS to me to-day all the way from Texas.
| couldn't make out the handwriting. No
Theodore Grey order orange blossoms sent
to me that might know of his marriage?
the kind and gentle way to break the news
to me? | threw them into the fire. Ghe
poor, pretty blossoms eurled and withered
sweet they were first. There must be some
thing as base about me as about whipped
spaniel. could have kissed them even
when / threw them in. 1t, occurred to me
afterwards-but don't suppose it possible
that Bertram has married Val Wandley
after all. Oh. my, no! Didn't she follow
Ted out there?
I know these are not the thoughts for
any one to have in passion week I'm
sure I'm unhappy enough to suit the time;
only II isn't the right kind of unhappiness.
| could be just as religious as Aunt Nancy
herself, if / hadn't such an ache at my
heart, such a constant trouble in my mems
DRY. Any one can be religious that is happy.
And. oh, if I were dead! And / don't want
to rise again! What use have for Easter:
What good will 1t do me to rise again.
to just the same? Miss Amy said the
other day that God fills the heavens and
the earth and one ought to love Him so
that the thought of being nearer to Him
was the dearest joy. And she said. too,
that we ought to weep for the suffering
this week symbolizes and rejoice on Easter
with a joy outside ourselves al the thought
of the return to glory of the One who
had borne all things for US. But as for
me-when you have mortal pain, what
do you care that lilies are white and roses
sweet? Oh I must be the wickeGest per-
son the face of this earthi Perhaps
deserve all have.
Easter eve.-To think of it. / am sitting
right in the middle of an aureoe while
write this. Oh / ought to do something
the ancients used to pour libations to the
evil gods to avert misfortune when they
were prospering 1 will walk to church to-
morrow with peat in my shoes. Paulina