The Dickinson press., 1895-01-05

1t grace beyond her own. "Of course, |
you envy met is but natural"
At these words Genna turned. envy
you? I pity you with all my heart, as
I e pitied mortal In all this wide
earth!"
And with no further look or word she
left her.
CHAPTER VIII.
Genna went out Of the house and
through the now quiet streets with the
tagging, feeble steps Of as leep-walker.
Her whole nature was in a tumult.
Rage, sorrow, misery, shame. held her
and moved her by turns. The words
she had heard were burnt into her brain
as by a brand Of fire. They tortured
her INCREASINGLY, even though with their
memory came back the knowledge that
after all she had won the lover she had
long deemed faithless; he had been true,
and yet they were utterly parted-ut-
terly lost to each other now.
She was white and sick with horror,
as she remembered her sisters words.
That he had been the victim Of an out
rage so cruel, a wrong so great, almost
turned her long-suffering love to hat
red. Mia had done it-no other-and
all for a purpose so base-a revenge SO
unspeakably mean and despicable.
She wanderd on neither caring nor
knowing whittier she went In her blind
ness and misery. A little child STUN
bled against her in a narrow street, and
looked up half-frightened at the white
face and wide blank eyes, that seemed
as if they had no sight or knowledge
of aught around. There is no one in
the house. yonder," he said. II am
frightened; there is a man i'll there
dying-and l am all alone. They went
to h Carnival. and babe me stay with
him; come and see? l am frightened, I
tell you, and he calls always for some
n who never comes"
She stopped and look at him. not half
compromising his words, and yet NOV
ed by the entreaty that spoke In his ac-
cents. where is it?" she asked.
He pointed to a street opposite: It was
narrow, dark, strengthening; but she
had no fear, Or suspicion and simply
took his hand and went with him in
silence. File talked on eagerly, telling
her OF how the stranger came to them
a Few eek before, and how he had
fallen i'll and could do no work, and
they were too poor to help him, and
so he grew worse and worse, and to-
night seemed as If almost dead, and
there was no n in the house but him.
self. for all had gone to the last night
of the carnival. and he had been asked
to go also. but did not like to leave the
stranger alone; he had been kind to him
once, and it seemed n shame to leave
him dying. and no n at hand to give
him even a draught Of water did he
need 1t.
Ere the story was finished they stop-
ped before a broken stairway in the
side of a dreary, tumble-down-looking
house that seemed too ruined for habit
tation. us it here?" asked Genna, in
wonder. as her guide paused.
YES" the child answered, and ran
lightly on before her and led the way.
She followed mechanically, scarcely
knowing what she did in the misery
that held and the pain that stupefied
her.
lie pushed open the door-beyond It
was a square, dingy room, made more
dingy II desolate by the dull, yellow
glare OF an oil lamp that was its only
light. 1t seemed to hold but two things
"a narrow pallet in the furthest corner
and two wooden t~restles close to the
window, on which a canvas was out
stretched. At sight Of that Genna
started and grew deadly pale. Her
eyes turned eagerly to the m%otionless
1gure-a hope that was half dread,
half joy swept over her heart and held
her fer a moment spellbound. Then she
crossed the oom and seized the lamp
and held it close to his face, while the
sick1y glare lit up the senseless eyes,
the hard, sharp outlines of the feshless
! mbs. the hollow oh saks, the changed
and stricken beauty of the man whom
she had last seen him on the hillside
slopes of Giovoli.
She knew him at once. No change,
however CHASTITY, Could deceive eyes 80
fonda love SO true as hers. She knew
him. and. knowing him, fell down on
her knees at his side, her heart beating
with the wild music of recovered Joy,
her great dread silenced by her greater
r. ssion She crouched there, scarce dar-
Ing to breathe, while the lamp'sdying
rays struggled amidst the gloom, and
the pale, sickly light of dawn cleaned
through the unshuttered windows. She
touched his hand-it was cold as death.
She glanced around, there was no fire
In the empty stove, the window panes
were broken and the cold evening air
swept In and chilled even her strong
frame as she knelt there. She glanced
at the child.
Go and fetch some charcoal and
WOOD" she said hurriedly: land see,
here is money; buy wine and bread,
too. Make what haste you can, for
PHYS sake.
II will be as quick as a bird" he
said eagerly, and few down the broken
Jagged stairs and out into the street,
While b knelt there alone, chatting his
hands between her warm, rough palms,
murmuring fnc0herent, tender words
born Of the great love her heart had SO
long held, her great joy that she had
found him, even thus.
When the child returned she lit the
fire and warmed some wine, and gently
tried to force a few drops between his
cllnched teeth. At first he could not
swallow, but her patience brought sue.
cess. Every half hour she gave him q
little. She drew off her own warm
woollen petticoat and covered his froz.
en- limbs. She watched him with un.
firing patience all through the long,
silent hours, during which the mute
suffering of stupor was broken only by
incoherent speech.
He was very i'll; dying Of starvation.
misery, cold-here, in a great and pop.
ulous city; here. where the gold that
her sister squandered on a toy ia
amuse, a Jewel to adorn her, would
have bought him life and health.
The girls heart ached with her bur.
den Of suffering. She was poor herself
the money she had wal little more
than she needed for her journey home,
and already the half of it had gone ID
order that he might have food and
warmth. She watched him, feeling ut.
terly helpless herself, knowing that the
ITO BE CONTINUED.