The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1896-07-17
A BROKEN LIFE.

Outside, the December evening was
closing in with grimy rain and heavy
swirls of mist that drifted up Northum-
berland avenue from the river. But
within, the Metropole hotel was blaze
Of light and color, and was merry with
the babble of voices and light laughter
Of women
In small sitting room on the second
floor it was deliciously warm and frag-
rant. A huge fire leaped and cracked
on the hearth, the soft radiance of the
electric light shone like spring sun
shine, and a bouquet Of pale, double
violets yielded sweetest incense to the
woman near whose elbow they stood.
She was very lovely woman; beauti-
full with the gentle fragility of white
lily, with eyes hike tremulous stars and
soft, yellow hair fluffed into simmer
ing aureole about her small delicate
face. Her mouth was fashioned with a
plaintivo droop at either corner, but
just now it was parted with happy
smiles and happier sighs.
With hands that were as small and
transparent US rose leaves, she pushed
aside a pile of foreign guides, maps,
time tables and writing materials that
lay on the table before her, and then
nestled back luAuriously in her chair.
"Ahl finished at last. What q perfect
tonr we have mapped out, and ohl Dick,
how divinely happy we shall be"
The man who was sitting at her side
bent down and kissed her in that dainty
hollow of her neck just where the pink
curves Of her car were shadowed by
rings of golden hair.
Darling" he murmured, passionate
ly, "if love and truth and tenderness
can make you happy, God knows you
will be So"
His warm breath stirring in her hair,
his passionate words creeping to her
heart thrilled the woman with emo
ton. She turned In her low chair until
she faced him, and took his hands-so
big and brave and strong-in her own
slender fingers.
Dick" she said, the laughter leaving
her lips. and bright tears growing in
her eyes. "My dear love, the thought
Of our future, which is to begin SO soon
now, almost makes me afraid. You see,
dear, happiness-evcn kindness-and
have always been such strangers, that
l feel nervous, shy, absurdly apprehen-
sive, just as though were really about
to be introduced to some one didn't
know"
Happiness is the best friend, end the
easiest to get along with of anyone
know" laughed Dick Meynell, kissing
the little fingers that clung around his
own. "Believo me, my child, you and
she will be inseparable pals directly
But you are trembling, Lydia Let me
push your chair round to the fire. We've
had enough of Bradshaw and Baedel1eI
for to-day"
but before she would leave the table
Lydia sought along the scattered pa
pers till, finding what she wanted, she
folded it into the palm OF her hand and
passed over to the fire.
II like to keep on looking ut the list
of places we are going to-" she explained
with little smile, as she sank into heI
seat. at makes our honeymoon seem
nearer"
Then ia Dick Meynell pulled over a
chair for himself she spread the slip
of paper on her knee and slowly passed
one finger down the line of words.
paris, Nice, Naples, Rome. and theI,
Cairo and the Nile. Then in the spring
time back to Venice, and with the sum
mer, past Italy's blue lakes away tc
Switzerland Afterward, when the ali'
tumn comes, back to Maynell Hurst
your home-our home, where we shall
be like the people in old-fashioned story
books, and live happy ever after"
please God! my darling" muttered
Meyncll. under his mustache.
"Dicl," she asked, irrelevantly, edo
you think it awfully wicked for me tc
want to be happy? Not want in a casual
fashion, you know, but crave, desire
yearn for happiness with every throt
of my heart and nerve of my body.
wonder if it's very wrong"
And he, remembering the tragedy OF
her past life, on which even at that mo-
ment the curtain was only just fall
ing. smiled tenderly as he said:
Lydia, you cannot possibly wish fol
all the happiness that is owed YOU"
She did not answer directly, but lift
ing the piece of paper from her lar
she scanned 1t with drawn brows and