The Wichita daily eagle., 1895-12-22

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while L have been away!" grumbled ne.
".My poor darling indeed"
But, much TO his amazement. Con-
stance burst out laughing.
She had been SO gentle that he was
prepared to find her humble also. and
ready to allow him to get the upper
hand again.
"You won't talk like that, viii you.
please?" she said, trying to repress her
involuntary, bitter amusement. You
must be satisfied TO know that 1 have
behaved rightly, according to my own
ideas, as you no doubt have, according
to yours"
He glanced at her quickly, with ris-
ing flush of Indignation in his sullen
face. But he was abashed, and had TIE
sense to say nothing.
Il am not going to worry you with
any moralizng, any questions, she
went on, looking at the fire. Il would.
of course, if L cared; but don't Twill
do what 1 can for you-take care OF
you till you are better able to go away.
But-but that's all"
Then you are not going to make it up
again 2" whined he.
Constance looked at him quickly, and
her eyes filled with tears. If there had
been a spark of affection in his stone
of longing for the warmth of his wife's
heart, as distinct from power over her
purse-she would lot have been hard
to him. But love for another and love
returned had made her clesr-sighted.
She shook her head.
NO more than that" she said, gently.
gently.
He kept his head bent for little
while, looking at the fire. Then he
nodded philosophically. After all, he
had outgrown any feeling for his wife
long ago. In the meantime he might
think himself sure of roof and crust
as long as she was in an engagement.
'Well, as you like" said he, at last.
Over her face there passed a curious
look. In the pause that followed her
own words she had been woman enough
to hope that he was going to coax, to
entreat. And she was disappointed.
She rose quickly from her chair.
IL couldn't get another room in this
house." said she. so I've got one next
door. But it's poky little place, not
what you would like; so you can have
mine. / viii have the one in the next
house. Good night"
She waited one moment at the door,
looking at him curiously. He glanced
up.
Thank you. Good night" said he.
In another moment she was outside
the house. On the opposite side of the
road man was standing. He crossed
quickly over to her.
Constance, want to see you"
"Cyril!"
"Oh, my poor child, what an expert.
ence for you! What are you going TO
do?"
Then he stopped, looking at her in
amazement. suEs r.-7
"Why, don't understand. You look
happier than 1 have seen you for ever
so long. Is it possible you care for-for
him?"
Constance shook her head, smiling
rather sadly
Il wish it were possible" she said. 81
don't care for him, l care for you. And
vet, now that he has come back, / am
happier than 1 was before. / am thank
ing Heaven that he did come-in time.
I was not so strong as pretended, Cy-
ril. / was afraid"
But Cyril looked impatient, misera-
ble
you have sacrificed your life!" said
he, passionately.
"And saved my-what is it?-pride?
Well, / am satisfied, Cyril; man can
never understand woman; / don't un-
derstand myself. But am happier to-
night knowing that / am out of danger,
that there is to be no more struggling
snd no more questioning, than l was
before"
He will be burden to you as long
as you live"
'I can't help that"
Constance, this is qui1otism."
"Well, can't help that either. Good
night"
And she disappeared into the house.
When Tom Anderson died, six months
later. Cyril Ardener was already the
husband of Lillian Fairbrother. But
Constance was not unhappy, except in
the fear that the little coquette would
make an Indifferent wife
She had been true to her best self; she
had gained a victory which had made
her strong. And TO the end of her life
she viii congratulate herself upon her
very best performance.
THE End.