The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1896-04-24

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meant the facing of the old homeless
life, tho roturn of that IN )rbid depress-
sion which Cynthia s infectious gayety
and pretty petulamt ways alone had
power to dispel.
Her obstincy was ineXplicable; his
feeling in the matter, the implied breach
of honor, did not appeal to her in the
least; she was consumed by pretty
jealousy and desire to make him yield
A lurking doubt as to success of the
task he had set himself in indeavoring
to mould her light and thoughtless
spirit mingled with the keen disapoint-
ment her inconsiderate conduct caused
him.
He walked on, dreaming, far beyond
his original destinatiOn-the cozy set
of rooms presided over by his faithful
valet Suddenly he stopped,
with an involuntary exclamation, for
he stood at the very threshold of his
o!d home. What impulse had led his
unconscious footsteps along the often
traversed road, he knew not, or how he
came to look upon the house he had
stunned since the day of mourning
But having come, he was glad, for
the wrench of parting was not the pres
ent pain; he was able to call the grim
Old mansions joyful, as well as
sorrowful, associations. For the first
time since his bereavement he felt the
desire and strengnth to seek the room
within that had been hers. unaltered as
she had left it, till Cynthia, resolute in
her banishment Of rivalling recollect-
ions should carelessly scatter and rear
range.
The old hOusekeeper, startled from
her lethargy of idle caretaking, an
swered his summons with clumsy alac-
rity, and soon he stood at the bedside
where some years ago he had flung
himself in an agony of griefand sobbed
out last farewell.
A melancholy light struggled
through the curtained window, reveal
ing the dainty familiar furniture; the
knick-knacks they had purchased in
odd corners of the world; the pictures
she had chosen; her flvorite chair; the
couch on which she had lain to please
him, with thought of recovery. He
saw through a mist oftears, fora gnaw-
ing hunger had crept into his heart in
the chill and utter lonliness of the room
once frightened by her dear presence
How happy they had been! There was
no death for love like theirs. 1t walked
and throbbed i'm him again in this room,
where she had breathed out her blame
less life, and all that had come between
them seemed like a dream.
Cynthia was right; he must always
be making useless comparisons, for
something must be wanting in his life,
something that could not be replaced.
His brimming eyes sought the spot
where her coffin rested. He could see
her now, lying there, as he had looked
on her for the last time, white and Sc
rene. her folded hands full of flowers;
the eyes that had reflected his loving
gaze pitilessly sealed; a strange smile
on the lips that often met his in yield
inc sweetness. All! if he might hear
that low and gentle voice again: if he
might pillow that weary golden head
on his breast, and, asking forgiveness
for feeting fancy, repeat his VOW
with all the fervor of the past!
He sat down, hiding his face in his
hands. With the reopening ofthis I'M
healed wound came revulsion of feel
ing, reproach for the self-sought for
getfulness his want of fortitude had
made desirable. remore for the shrink
inp from pain that made him swerve
from so dear memory, and for the
wrong he did Cynthia in clnging to it.
But he hesitated no longer. The silent
hour of retrospect had brought him
very near his first love, and with the
bitter ache of longing came a strange
sense of security and rest.
Unchanged she awaited him, fair and
lovely rs he had known her, this day
an angel, speaking through the silence
of Heaven, to hold him to his VOW.
For Cynthia he had no fears. That
she had been able to make their engage
ment conditional on this breach of trust
led him to hope its dissolution would
cause her little suffering.
4 parting pang assailed him as he
D .nned the brief message OF farewell,
dread of the ere ping, gloomy years
beyond which his brightest hope beck
oned. but he lifted the talisman that
welded him to his dead bride, pressing
it softly to his lips, and the shadow
| fled.
Cynthia crushed the note in her hand.
She WAS hurt; she was indignant; she
was scornful; hundred sensations
mingled with no thoughts of surrender
struggled for mastry in her swelling
heart. But the faint. uncontts-ed re-
gret that stirred beneath the angry
tumult, the feeling that lies so deep in
some souls that only agony may wiring
it forth. the deadened wailing of love
that will not he stritled-these were
among the bitterest tears she shed.