The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1895-06-08

TOMORROW, YOU SHALL TAKE ME-"
is saying, but his tone coming on her
quickened mood, is as touch upon q
wound.
"You think, then, that a woman should
cleave--that," bitterly, sis the scriptural
term, isn't it?-to the most contemplate
of Gods creatures until her heart Is utterly
broken, and her spirit and body have lost
their beauty, just because clergyman
has said a few words over her and hin?"
"Not at all. Only until the law has set
her free. There is always the divorce
court, you know. An admirable institu-
ton, II considerably wanting I'm some
ways. This chance acquaintance OF yours
must be contemplate fellow. i must
woman who under false colors makes love
or permits il to be made. But let us leave
this stupid subject. What has IL got to
do with Us, my dearestT'
"why,. nothing, nothing" q little
wildly.
over IL. You have wasted a good deal
over Miss Amy. Do you know" with a
fond laugh, al feel little jealous OF herf
You have behaved like an angel of light
to her. You have given her your
thoughts your advice-let US hope," with
shrug "she will profit by it. But now
give something to mel
Ahl" The cry is low, but piercing.
To him it speaks only OF love, and love,
indeed, is its dominant note; but .in it
there Is despair, too, and anguish, and
memories OF the past-the dreadful past
that, in spite OF all ones mental
narcotics, can never be wholly put to
sleep. Passionately she turns to him,
holding out her arms and sinking into his,
that are even more willing than her own.
1t is quite dark here in this dusky corner,
and they two are as much alone as IL a
whole hemisphere divided them from
those in the room inside.
"To- morrow, Clarel" breathes he. She
shudders in his embrace. "Why Clarel
What is il? That girl has upset you! You
are thinking OF your past marriage. But
1t Is past, my darling, my beloved Moth
ing OF IL remains. You have told me
something Of IL, and have guessed the
rest. lt"-he pauses, bending over her.
"lt was a martyrdom.n
at was hellp' says she in hoarse,
stihed whisper. 1t shocks him; but
quite suddenly her mood changes. She
lifts herself and quickly, vehemently
presses her lips TO his. The caress is
feverish, and yet when he would have
strained her TO his heart, she put him
back from her, lightly laughing, with
both hands. then sinking into a low
chair, beckons him TO her. Her every
movement, II full OF grace, is also full OF
fire and strange unrest.
"Come, let us sit here and talk-not OF
the past; that, rs you say, is dead may
it, soul rest in pesce-but OF the future.
Ahi that is ours. Ours What good il
the past to any one? Who cares for it.?
1t IL past, and done with. And tomorrow
She throws back her lovely head and
laughs aloud. Tomorrow you will take
me away-away-awsy."
She pauses. A queer sob seems to choke
her.
"Wbst is it, darling?" says Carlton
anxiously. Her manner seemed forced,
unreal.
"Oh, nothing" impatiently. "But Con-
stantinople is far away, isn't it?'
"From this3 Well, pretty far. But"
in troubled tone "there is sonnet hing 9
the matter with you tonight. / can see II
in your eyes. Do you think you could
ever deceive met"
Deceive himl A little cold wave seems
20 sweep over her. She sighs in a broken
hearted way, and two sad tears run down
her cheeks.
"Oh, this will never do" says Carlton
"You are overdone. Your conversation