The record-union., 1897-09-27
4 BROKEN LIFE.

of light and color and was merry with
the babble of voices and light laughter
o. women
In a small sitting room on the second
floor it was deliciously warm and fra
grant. A huge fire leaped and cracked
on the hearth, the soft radiance Of the
electric light shone ike spring sunshine,
and a bouquet of pale, double V1olets
yielded sweetest incense to the woman
near whose elbow they stood She was
very lovely woman; beautiful with the
gentle fragility Of a white lily, with eyes
like tremuloUs stars and soft yellow
hair fiuffed into shimmering areole
about her small, delicate face. Her
mouth was fashioned with a plaintiye
droop at either corner, but just now IT
was parted with happy smiles and hap
pier sighs.
With hands that were as small and
transparent as rose leaves she pushed
aside pile of foreign guides, maps,
time tables and writing materials that
lay on the table before her, and then
nestled back Iuxuriously in her chair.
'Ah, finished at lasti What perfect
tour We have mepped out, and oh, 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 ear were shadowed by
rings of golden hair.
Darling" he murmured, passionate
ly, 'ff 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 emotion.
She turned in her low chair until she
faced him and took his hands-so big
and brave and strong-in her own slen-
der fingers.
'Dicl1," 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,
shappiness-even kindness-and 1 have
always been such strangers that 1 feel
nervous, shy, absurdly apprehensive,
just as though I were really about to be
introduced to some one didn't know"
Happiness is the best friend, and the
easiest one to get along with of any one
] know" laughed Dick Meynell, kissing
the little fingers that clung around his
own. Believe me, my child, you and
she viii 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 Baedeker
for to-day"
But before she would leave the table
lydia sought among the scattered pa
pers till, finding what she wanted, she
folded it into the palm of her hand and
passed over to the fire
Il like to keep on looking at the list of
places we are going to-" she explained,
with little smile, as she sank into her
seat 1T makes our honeymoon seem
nearer
Then as Dick Meynen pulled over a
chair for himself she spread the slip of
paper on her knees and slowly passed
one finger down the line of words.
Paris, Nice, Naples, Rome and then
Cairo and the Nile. Then in the spring.
time back to Venice, and in. the sum-
mer, past Italy's blue lakes away to
Switzerland. Afterward, when the au-
1umn comes, back to NIeyneu Hurst,
your home our home, where we shall
be like the people in OId-fashioned sto-
ry books, and live happy ever after"
Please God, my darling" muttered
N1eyneH, under his moustache
Dick" she said, 1rrelevantly, "do you
think it awfuly wicked Of me to want
to be happy? Not want in a casual
fashion, you know, but crave. desire,
yearn for happiness with every throb
of my heart and nerve of my body. /
wonder if it's very wrong2"
And he, remembering the tragedy of
her past life on which even at that mo-
ment the curtain was only just falling,
smiled tenderly as he said:
Lydia, you cannot possibly wish for
all the happiness that is owed you"
She did not answer directly, but lifting
the piece Of paper from her lap she
scanned it with drawn brows and puck
cred mouth. Presently she dropped it
with a sigh.
Dick, if I could be happy-absolutely ely,
entirely happy, just for so long as our
jOurneyings are to last, I think I could
die content. OH don't look so shocked, -
she cried, stretching pretty, pleading
hands out to him. Il do not want to
die, but I am afraid to wish to live.
Ahi dearest, you would understand me
better if you knew what the word life
has meant to me-"
She rose from her seat. and crossing
the fur rug sank down at Dick MeyneITs S
feet and pilIowed her fair head on his
knee.
L want to tell you, Dick, for the first
time, for the last time, what my life
has been to me. Do not stop me; I feel
1 must speak of it before l bury it out
of sight, of remembrance forever"
She took his hand in hers, and as she
spoke on, patted and smoothed and
kissed it, as loving women Will
I was unwelcome when I was born.
My father and mother openly avowed
their dislike for children, and neither
ever fOrgave the other for the addition
to their family. In those days they were
rich, but I was left to servants and gov
ernesses who treated me as they pleased
i was IA, and my parents were almost
strangers to me, when the financial
crash came which dragged my fathers
name, with scores Of others, through the
mire of all England. Poverty and the
narrowness of our new home brought
me for the first time into daily and hour
ly contact with my parents. Obi Dick
it was shameful-terrible to live witt
two people who never met without re-
proaches, scoTn and contempt; who
never parted without tears and oaths
one day. wonder whether anything
even your love, viii wipe out that hid
eous recOllectiOn-my father struck my
mother. That night she left him"
Like frightened child, pale-cheeket
and trembling, Lydia clug to her lover
Darling, I beseech you not to distres:
yourself by recalling the wretcheC
past" he cried.
But she persisted, saying it was fol
the last time forever