Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1897-07-30
CHApTER XXI.

>Sos sdlu. nave Deen nearing
some wonderful news. Come here, and I
will tell you."
He advanced; but he did not sit down,
only stood there by the mantelpiecc-tall,
straight, massive, with his eyes bent on
the fire.
ut will please you, 1 am sure" 1 went
on rapidly. "You-you nave wished it
often. Can't You guess it?''
Il am not good at guessing" he an:
swered constraincdly. You had better
tell mo ut once"
well" 1 said, bursting into the subject
without further prelude, "Yorke has pro-
posed 10 Nettie ut last!''
He started. The words certainly reused
him from his composurc.
"lroposed!" he said, almost as incred.
,,!ously as 1 myself said it short time
before. Are You sure:"
she has just been telling me-" an.
swcrcd: ''shc was too clated to keep the
news very long TO herself Are YOU
looking straight up into his face and meet.
ing his cyes-":lrc You surpriscd:"
Very" he said slowly.
''Why:" asked coloring hotly and in
dignantly You always thought he was
fond of her. You always hoped he wouIti
IH;lIIV nef ana now
''Now." he interrupted, II am not SC
sure about his fccings-that is all: anG
Nritie is too good. and sweet. and fair IL
be the victim of an unworthy caprice"
IL don't understand you," said
co.dly.
''Do you not? Then l will speak more
plainly. iorke is not worthy her love.
and l do not think he has given her
his own"
What makes You think SOY" asked,
family.
He answered me in one word:
CONSERVATION"
Then l grew cold, and sick. and afraid
] knew now the secret of the change in
him. l knew he had guessed Yorke's
feelings for me, and l knew, too, that my
own reticencc. deception. confusion, had
been like SO many additional proofs for
his suspicious to rest on.
Are You picased:" lie asked me sud
denly. after a long. drcary pause.
started and looked up, but as met
his eyes the hot blood once mere rushed
to my face and neck. The very certainty
of misinterprctatlcn only added 10 my
confusion.
VI ''uA ~ lIit'tst'. s'ilu. bul
my voice WAS unsteady: very pleased.
woman i'll Il friends marriage IT.
laughing foolisliy-''it is the next best
thing 20 being married herself. And that,
of course. is the event of her life
II suppose ii is" he said. bitterly, and
turned away. ut is pity she does not
give it little moro serious consideration
than You appear to have done"
"Do You mean" said hotly, that you
are dissatisfied with me--that you regret
already"
Regret! he interrupted, With rising
passion. ~ nat is Il poor word-l very
poor word. When one would give ones
life to amend Il mistaEc-when one knows
that ;ll that life is marred and spoilt by
reason of it--one feels something more
than regret.
felt as if an icy hand lay cold upon
my heart: as if words would not come to
relieve or express in any one way this sud-
den. fearful sense of mystery.
Oh l cried suddenly. II never
thought You could be cruel. never
thought You could misjudge-"
And L." lie said, bitterly. '.ncver
thought that day would come when
should know TO my cost YOU We're not
honest with me. Perhaps" with a little
sudden break i'll the deep voice. II over
estimate the Importance of things. 1t
does not seem Il tritlc to me that-that
you should have withheld anything that
was in your heart. or had been in it. l
am not like most men. told You that
long ago"
"Ycs." said heiplcssly. "But have
not done you any wrong"
He held up his hand as if to ward off a
blow.
"It was my fault" he said bitterly; sit
has always been my fault. l see it now
that it is too late. Ninety-nine people
out of every hundred mar their lives by a
mistake. / am no worse off than-than
| the rest of Them
''You do not think of met cried with
| the tiercencss of desperation. Then my
strength failed: tears hurst from my eyes
in 4 flood of unresistng misery; buried
my face in my hands, sObbing brokenly
He came and laid his hand gently on m,
head. Once before l remembered thai
same action, and how l. in my fond con
ceit, had fancicd it seemed as If he wer,
blessing me. But now-now-what did i
mean row:"
"My DEAR" he said, and his voice trem
bed, II do think of you-how pitifull.
and sorrowfully you will never know. l
is the sense of that pity and that sorrow
that appalls me. And you are so-s
young: and I-what can do? Heavel
help me, what can do? 1t is not in M,
power to set you free. Our lives are fet
tered With too heavy chains for aught bu
~, hrooko
81 wish," 1 cried stormily, set wou,
come! Oh, wish it would come!'
His hand dropped. When ut las
choked back my sobs and raised my head
found he had left the room.
For n moment ! sgt there quite passive
my eyes Travelled from point to point
from the cut glass and the ivory brushe
on the toilet table to the cleaning fold
, of the costly satin had worn.
A sort of numbness settled upon IN,
was wearied out, and yet could nc
move. became conscious of FOOLS
feeling of hatred against that unoffendin
e gown. Tomorrow" half whispere
to myself, II will lock it away. vi
r mover ,yoar IL npnin-ncyers'