The Van Buren press., 1897-03-20


some distant relatives. She was poor,
but what cared | for that? My own for
tune was sufficient TO give her every
comfort, though l had not at that time
fallen heir to my fathers inheritance.
She was young and beautiful and
thought she loved me. Well, it is the
old story; / need not linger on it. An
other came upon the scene. had never
told her Of my wealth or position that
either could influence her / never
dreamed, and SO one day l awoke to
learn that she had given her hand to
him whom she thought outbid me in
gold and glitter. | did not seek to unde-
ceiye her. A strange, calm philosophy
took possession of me, and / felt it was
best as it was, until one day. on taking
up the morning paper, l read the notice
of her marriage. With the printed evil
dence of her perfidy in my hands, phi.
losophy and reason alike deserted me
and the pent-up feeling within me
burst in an unrestrained tide. The
blaelness Of death seemed to gather
round me, and for days and weeks I
knew nothing in the grasp of fierce
fever, from which I struggled back to
life weak and wretched, but with q
brain cleared from mist, which saw
things once more in their proper light
Eight years passed. Meantime the
woman whom | had loved was free. III
the first year of her widowhood met
her-met her, as I thought, calmly and
| dispassionately, only to learn that
dared not trust myself Another two
years passed, and yielded at last to her
ontreaties that we should meet again
I found her as beautiful as of yore. the
bloom on her checks as fresh, the light
in her eyes as bright; and yet. Kate, I
looked upon it all as one views the ra-
diant glitter of the iceberg, which to
approach is death. Beside this glowing
flame, whose fierceness consumes itself,
a pure, sweet light shed it's luster DER
my heart, not so bright, not so brilliant,
but with a calm, increasing flame,
which l felt could light my way to the
tomb, which made the dark recesses of
my heart open to the sunbeams which
dispelled forever the false glamour of
my eyes, which,"
"Ah, Kate, was just looking for you
1t is too damp for you to be out, child"
broke in Mrs. Harrisons voice. 81 will
help entertain Mr.. Creighton for lit
tie while. You had best go within"
Then, as the young girl turned and
left them, Maude Harrison stopped and
stood face to face with the man before
her.
What were you telling that girl,
may I inquire? You seemed much in
terested."
Il shall be very happy to inform Mrs
Harrison, but unfortunately the story
would be no new one to her ears. !
was telling her only of a boy who loved
woman whom he deemed as true as
she was beautiful, whom he found as
false as the very fiends which came to
mock his misery. An old recital Do
you care to hear it?"
MAX" and there crept a wondrous
sweetness in the womans tone, 81 loved
you through it ell True, | was false,
hut not to you. To you l was loyal,
hut to him who called me wife, who
went to his death blessing me, who
smiled on me in dying, to him my
whole life was lie! All, was false
indeed! Think you you alone suffered
I hat l during these two long years of
torture did not daily press the dagger
deeper into my heart? 1t was almost
more than / could bear, but God was
merciful, and ended it ere my strength
gave way"
pardon me-" and in the mans tone
was no answering softness. "Of the
man who called you wife l care not to
speak. l have learned to look on him
without envy"
Cruel Do / not know how little
deserve at your hands? Be generous,
Max; let me in some way atone!"
do you really wish it? Then let me
tell you. Out of the ashes of that past
love has sprung a new and holer flame.
We have both tried the past, Maude.
The might have been has gone forever,
but there is future! Thank God for
IAdi, L IONC tnt Elil WIZ IS
your protection"
stop! Not another word. You who
have loved me confess 10 love for her, a
child. You say it to try me; but listen.
There is no need. l glory IN the love
| had for you; / know no shame in its
confession. Max, look into my eyes and
read there whatever wou will"
Hush, Maude! Do not utter words
you may regret. Let the dead past
bury its dead. For a second time love
las bloomed in my heart and | speak
too solemnly not to mean all l say.
Maude-" but with white lips and gilt
tering eyes the woman swept past him
into the house.
Looking out from her window, Kate
stood thinking, wondering when she
should hear all the story which she felt
might mean so much, when with
hustle of drapery her uncles wife stood
beside her.
"Traitress!" broke from her white
lips. "You who have partaken of my
bounty, only to rob me of all held dear
oh tdi va i'iN SVu ~" SIC hoN loNSu
him? Yet what do such as you know
Of love?"
Then, ere the astonished girl could
reply, a glimpse of the truth betraying
itself to her, she fell fainting on the
floor.
a month later, and Max Creighton
led his young and lovely bride to the
altar. She never asked the sequel TO
the story he told her on that summer
night. She knew it all in the words