The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1895-12-29
COMMONPLACE TRAGEDY.

with the scent of roses and carnations,
stirred the creepers on the low, white
house, sighed family through the trees
at the bottom of the velvety terrace
and lawns which sloped down to the
edge of the miniature lake, shimmering
in the hot July sunshine. Through the
trees walked stiffiy tall, broad-shoul-
dered specimen of the stronger sex,
with long, military stride, whistling
carelessly, as he skirted the lake and
disappeared into the tangled wood
path. AS he passed out OF sight wo-
man came slowly up the green terraces,
paused as she reached the top, to
glance back at the retreating figure in
/ the distance; then she turned away,
with a little impatient gesture, gather
ing the soft folds Of her gray dress
| together as she mounted the wide
shallow steps, and sauntered slowly
along the shadowy shrubbery path
where the leafy branches met overhead
forming natural avenue of cool, de-
licious shade. She sat down YEARLY
on the rustic seat at the far end of the
messy path, resting her head against
the old tree at her back, the dark
shadowy background throwing into
strong relief the slight, gray figure,
with the small head proudly erect
crowned with masses of golden-brown
hair, curly and soft, forming a dark
setting for the pale face, out of which
shone those glorious dark gray eyes,
with deep violet tinge in them, just
now filled with an overpowering weight
of WEAKNESS and agony Of diasppoint-
ment.
He never cared" she said to her
self. Are his eyes blinded that he
cannot see the truth for himself?'
! Her bosom heaved under the soft,
silky folds of her cool, gray dress; her
hands were tightly clasped before her.
Suddenly her whole attitude changed
and relaxed, and she resumed her old
| careless posture; a maid came down
the path with silver salver in her
hand. The woman glanced at the
name inscribed thereon-"Lord Ber-
rington.'
Il will come in," she said, and the
maid returned to the house. She sat
motionless for an instant, then rose
quickly, as if some sudden determine
ton had seized her. A scornful smile
curved her red lips as she walked into
the cool, shadowy drawing room
through the open French window. AS
she entered man quickly advanced to
meet her; he seized both her hands in
MS, saying paSS1Onately:
Ruth, I have come for my answer.
| What is it to be-"
She turned away her head for an
instant and looked out into the sunlit
garden, down to the dark, shady wood,
with the lake dancing in the hot sun
shine; then she looked back In the
dark handsome face Of the man beside
her.
1T is to be-yes," she said in her
clear. cool voice, with no trace of emo
ton, but she shuddered involuntarily
as she was clasped in her lovers arms
That was the first act Of the trag-
edy.
The curtain rises on the second act
Ruth, Lady Bennington, whose unemo-
| tional, tragic beauty had taken the
world Of fashion by storm, is seated in
her nower-scented boudoir; she has not
altered much during the last two years:
her beauty Is still as marvellous as
ever, unspoilt by all the turmoil of
London season, where the world had
bowed down to the new beauty At
first to her unsoDhisticated mind the
intoxicating whirl of the ceaseless
gayeties was at once pleasant and
novel, but now she is heartily tired of
1t; she is filled with an intense, mad
longing to revisit the old home in the
quiet, peaceful countryside old-fash-
| Toned garden. the tangled wood and
the lake, glimmering under a. cloudLess.
dazzling sky-how it all comes back to
her, flood of bitter memories. A
warm breeze steals in at the open WIN
doWs blowing out the long, filmy cur
talns and bearing a Whit of mignon-
cite from the flower-f1lled balcony
The door opens and man enters.
AT the sight Of him Ruth rises, with
| q l.
She holds out her hand
Captain Tremayne!" she says, this
is indeed surprise; L had no idea
that you had returned"
The visitor holds her hand in his,
letting his eyes rest on the pale, lovely
face for moment; then they both sit
down.
he Is the first to speak.
Il only arrived in England a few
days ago, and being in town, 1 seized
the first opportunity to call on you,
for the sake of "auld lang syne."
Ruth smiles and slowly unfurls her
feather fan; the heat is terrific.
You are very kind she says, and
am more than pleased to see you.
Two years have passed since we last
met; am 1 much altered?"
She looked straight at him inquiring-
ly ana the LOOK sends a hot thrill
ILIOuSn HIS WnOle De1nS.
You are more beautiful" he says
slowly.
This seriously spoken speech causes
little ripple of laughter to break from
Ruth, as she slowly fans herself
You have grown complimentary dur
ing your two years absence on foreign
service" she says lightly, but her eyes
drop as she meets his.
ut is actually so long since I spent
that long, delightful day at Pens
Court? DO you remember the lake and
the walk in the woods?"
"Remember." her voice thrills with
some strong, hidden. emotion, "as if I
should ever forget the" She checks
herself hurriedly.
And now you are married" he re-
marks irrelevantly. 1 was a coward
then"
"A coward? Why?" She disregards
his first remark.
''Why?" he asked f1ercely, because I
was afraid to sDeak-because 1 knew
you feared poverty-that you sought a
brilliant alliance"
She stops him with a sudden, imperi-
GUS gesture, her eyes blazing with a
passionate light.
Silence! You malign me. I never
sought this brilliant alliance"
I (Scornfully) What has it brought mN
but -" She breaks off abruptly, aid
with a sudden movement, pulls bac4A
her loose hanging sleeve, revealing an
ugly livid bruise on the white arm;
/ then, with n bitter smile, she lets the
sleeve fall again, and turns toward the
window. He starts to his feet, his hand
some face dark with passion.