The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1897-06-29
way 1 wrote with guarded care-to please

sSax wrote with guarded eaFe-'0 please
"Ah, but when you were with me you
told me what l wished to know in other
ways" she said. quickly. like ore who
had been over the ground many times:
and there was no necessity for words
But when We were apart, L needed the
though / had always spoken as you say :
had. Perhaps 1 did not know myself.
when ! made those speeches TO you about
loves superiority to words: but / think
| the real fact was. that in reading and
criticising the stories of others 1 never
applied my comments to my own case
about. 1t was foolish for lovers in books
to utter the things that were put into
their mouths: but for you to say or 20
write them to me-that was quite another
thing. You don't know. you never guess
ed, how l treasured up each little word
first year Of your absence. l used to re-
peat them over and over again TO myself
and wonder If you meant them still.
| Then when. occasionally, something in
the quiet letters would deeply touch me,
1 would torture myself with the question
whether l were reading into it a meaning
= think / know all those first letters by
I heart, Philip-those letters 1 lived for the
sake of receiving, and then sometimes
cried over because they seemed so cold
Perhaps it would be better" said Hart
ranft, sadly, for each one to live out his
own nature, simply and sincerely. and not
try to form himself on the opposed ideal
of another. l have written almost as
many letters which you have never re-
ceived as those which came to you in due
course through he mail. Sometimes.
when the day has been harder than usual,
and the longing for your help and your
sympathy has amounted almost to a
necessity, 1 have sat at my table far into
the night, writing all that was in my
heart for you; imagining for the moment
that you would some time read. the words
1 was setting down, and would read them
not jestingly, as you did the love stories,
but tenderly. and with answering SYM
patty. But those pages l never sent; it
was my concession TO what supposed
was your desire; at the time it cost me
much, and you say it has been the means
Of my losing the only thing in life l have
ever cared for-yOur love. Are you sure.
Eleanor"
Il think that when love is once dead, it
never comes back to life again" she an
swered gently. Perhaps the change
would nave come anyway" she added,
would but increase the pain she was
giving. Il cannot say. Three years are
"a long time, and 1 have had so many
things to take my attention and thought.
After that first year l cred gradually to
be less hurt at the tone of the letters L
received from you, and, after awhile, a
little defiant. A great many people were
kind to me and seemed to admire me. and
l used to think to myself: There are
some who care for me, at any rate And
then, as the time wore on, l looked for
ward to mail times less and less eagerly.
and read the letters over once instead of
many times. And finally-it is SO hard to
say it, but I must tell you ALL realized
that l cared just as much for a ride or a
concert, an opera or a lecture, a house
party Of an evening with my working
gilr'S club, as l did for any letter or any
thought of Japan; that l was interested
in the conversation and pleased with the
attention of different men whom 1 often
saW-oh, Philip. don't look so, l am not
worth any ones feeling like that-and
that-that my engagement ring meant
nothing to me any more. 1t was all so
gradual that 1 did not realize it for a
long time after l suppose it really came
about. Then, as l say, l tried to tell you,
For I knew L had been untrue and I'M
knew you had always put in me: for the
rest. l was sure you had changed, and
that you did not care very deeply"
L have cared SO much,' he said, heaVi-
ly, my thought of you has been so much
a part Of my existence, that l can scarce
ly understand how it is possible for one
lonely; this has been its one happiness.
You, on the other hand, have been sur
rounded by everything to make you for
get. And. after all, what has happened
has been but the way of the world
She took a step towards him and clasped
her hands closely before her.
IF I could only make you understand
she said. in a low. tremulous voice, how
sorry 1 am, how this breaks my heart
far more than did the selfish sorrow and
self pity Of that time when l was so sad:
| do not ask you to forgive me: l don't
care what you think of me: l should be
glad to have you think in any way that
would make your trouble easier to bear.
1t seems to me it is always q selfish
thing to ask forgiveness for ones self.
But [ do want you to believe that be-
cause /, more than any one else, know
how you stand head and shoulders above
all other men, / can realize to the full the
sorrow Of it all: and that 1 hate myself
for the suffering 1 have been the means
of bringing to you
they stood there, face to face, in silence,
for a moment, these two: generous and
noble natures both, created for each
other: capable Of being, each to the other,
courage and strength and inspiration in
whatever of trouble and hardship life
helpless in the presence of facts more i'm
mutable than Fate itself. For all things
else are subject to the human will, but
not the human heart.
Il have nothing to forgive said Hart
| ranft, taking her hand, quietly, while he
spoke. You were not to blame: I under
stand. I thought, today, that death itself
could not rob me of that part of my hap
pineSs which is deepest, and l was right;
for even this hour will leave me with one
priceless possession-the belief in a true,
| sweet woman. GOOd-by, dearest and he
raised her hands to his lips.
When the front door had closed behind
him, and he stood for an instant at the
top of the flight of brown-stone steps, he
noticed that the rain had stopped. and
that the late afternoon sun was shining.
In the morning he had been surprised to
find the rain so joyous: now he wonder
| ed that sunshine could be so sad.
LOUIS COROLYN POND.
The Wagon That Brings the Ice.
49, %L1% -;~- ~ ;oaf