The Wichita daily eagle., 1897-12-17
The Last Hope.
(By Kenyon West In Five Parts)
PART Ill


| ion with still greater vividness-
/ She and Lillian had been for a horse
hack ride with DR.. Van Auley, and on
| their return, as he had dismounted 10 heip
| them from their saddles, he placed a letter
| in Dora's hand. With a smile OF tendef
meaning, an expression in the eyes maoe
mn Of doutt and uncertainty, and yet OF
| glad relief, ne sprang back upon his horse,
| and galloped down the avenue.
II was not till half an hour later that
Dora found a moment alone TO read the
letter. which was destined 10 be the cause
| of not only her greatest happiness, pul oi
her deepest pain.
Dear Miss Winford," 1t began, L nave
| been with the wounded at Sedan, anc peen
| through some very trying scenes IN this
! country: yet / have never felt myself 10
be a coward till now. 1 am cowardly
enough to write you instead OF speaking.
During the last two months I have tried
so often to tell you my heart, but words
have failed. / have gone 10 see you, re-
solving that il would be my last day OF
uncertainty; then some interruption, the
dread of a refusal, and many other things
have prevented my speaking. VIII you for
give me now for writing? l know saah
not see you alone during our ride; PROB
ably there will be 70 chance after. reel
I cannot wait another day. My patience
with myself is utterly at an end DORA
love YOU, and I want you for my wife.
Tine words seem very cold, but my heart
is filled with you / can never be hap
nv aWay from you. I can not describe TO
YOU now this feeling has grown up IN my
heart You seem to have taken place
there which has always been yours oy
right II seems as though / have loved you
always. Now will you let me love you
my own beloved. you couldn't prevent tnat,
but will you give me the right 10 love you!
VIII YOU open just a Ettle corner of your
heart TO me? You have all mine. II you
can not love me, Dora, let me know by
means of your silence Don't answer this
letter at all If you are not willing to be my
wife. I could never forget the words-they
would burn themselves into my memory
Ike fire. / am weak and cowardiy, L
know: please forgive me for Il. If you
are willing to take me, unworthy of you
as 1 am, and love me just little in re-
turn for the love 1 give you in such over
flowing measure, send me just line TO let
me know that may come TO you"
Dora waited TO speak with her father be-
fore she answered DR.. Van Auley's let
ter The answer was brief. and yet to any
one knowing the rich, strong nature of this
girl, Il would have been more than sat-
isfying 1t ended by making an appoint
ment for the following day at three O'Clock.
That was the end of his brief dream of
love and happiness. Dora had nothing to
remember but weeks and months of heaSs
ache and miserable suspense. DR.. Van
Auley did not come either that day or the
day after. A week dragged slowly by, and
- l0,
been lost? Mr. Winford assured her that
he had put it carefully in his pocket, with
several other important papers. He had
taken them all out together and mailed
them himself.
Sometimes, in spite of her heavy heart,
Dora caught herself thinking, half wh:msi-
cally of the many novels she had read
whose plots turned on the embarrassments
caused by lost or intercepted letters. With
a sort of grim numor, she would view the
matter as If aloof from herself, and say
that, We're she writing novel, she would
never choose so trite and commonplace
device. If she were 10 make her heroine
suffer from either enemies or adverse CIR
cumstances, II would be by something very
unusual, even startling, But Dora was no
heroine of any fanciful romance. She was
simply a living, suffering woman, perplex-
ed and thwarted; and even if what thwart-
ed her was a common thing. her suffering
was just as hard TO bear.
The trouble could not be kept from Lii
Ian, though Dora would gladly have been
spared her indignant assertions that DIR.
Van Auley was the most despicab!e OF men
"a f1;rt, who had exacted this confession
of love, but 10 make jest of it or TO min
;ster to his vanity. Dora's faith in him
lIy ctalr uoh ho No ;SnF1
of her sisters words had SO far influence
as to rouse her pride and help her TO re-
sist the impulse to write again. But fl
nally even this lost its power. She yielded
to the impulse, and one lonely evening
wrote DR.. Van Auley long letter, which
she sent by a trusty messenger. The letter
came back unopened, and with 1t the in
telligence that, much to the surprise OF his
friends, DR.. Van Auley had suddenly left
Boston and gone once more abroad.
Then Dora felt indeed that she could
never write again. She knew she mus.
forget the brief alluring dream of love ani
OF happiness.
Another thing which proved Dora to be
no heroine of an ordinary romance was that
she neither went into a convent, nor took
a long journey up the Nile, nor spent her
days in the service of the poor She didn't
even devote herself TO Browning or En-
erson, much as she loved them. She sim
ply went on IN her old busy life; keeping
house, riding her favorfte horse, paying
visits. playing bezique with her father.
The season was drawing to a close. and
a round of dinners, balls, and receptions
certainly helped her, though they did not
render her the service her father hoped
they might when ne insisted on the per-
Formarce 0f every social duty
Dora knew she could never forget the
man vino mad so stirred the depths of her
spirit; but sne was Of too strong a nature
10 remain forever under the sway Of
love which might possibly have been treat
cd with scorn. Thus gradually she gaired
content ii her old life and interest in It's
numerous activities. The summer az Bar
Harbor and another winter in her beloved
Boston had passed, and now they were
all on the threshold of another summer.
Dora had persuaded herself that she had
thrust out all hopes OF seeing DR.. Van Au-
lev acaln; but Just now all the old love
seemed 10 sweep with impetuous force over
her. while listening 10 the last sad notes
Of Gottschalk's Meditation" DE away into
silence. She had never heard Il since DR..
Van Auiey had played il for her, and the
music had revealed TO her so much. As
# in n,ockery. DR.. Van Aulsys words came
hack % her-'I can not let Il end where
Gojsschslk did; 1 always turn back and
play the aria again, because il more en-
phaticaIly suggests the possibility that the
iost joy may come back, the lost aappi-
ness be restored"
Some Jewesrr Nevers
In these fin-desiecle days OF changing