The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-08-07

Bess? All, you do? l know I'm care
less fellow living only for today but,
dear. 1t won't be always so. You'll see
when my chance comes"
cry broke from me, and / flung his
hands away.
Don't say any more! please don't.
L can't bear it," 1 said, with a good
deal of fire; and he fell back, his face
white, the look of a man wondering
and half-asleep crossing his eyes.
"Bess-you mean" he COM
menced.
II mean" I said. slipping down and
facing him, that you must not speak
of love to me, Rufus. My heart is full
OF pain to watch you. You are not what
i dreamed you would be-not what the
man | love and marry must be. Do
you think proud woman could give
her heart to a trifier like you? Yes"
and my voice was harsh with pain,
that's what you've become!"
He stood absolutely quiet his eyes
dull. My words came fast. All, how
Ions had choked back these thoughts.
Tonight he had given me the oppor-
tunity to speak, and / meant to take 1t.
AS l passed him, and paused halfway
toward the door, he still did not turn
his eyes to me.
when you have proven that you
possess ambition and courage, come to
me-" my voice failed-how hard it was!
II will listen then, Rufus"
Aunt Elsie and l were dining alone
a few days later. How chilled and un-
happy l was! All the rose color had
been brushed from my life by the
words l had spoken, but l did not re-
gret them.
noticed that my aunt was pale, and
when the maid had left us with des-
sert she took a letter from her pocket.
my dear" she said, and commenced
to cry.
What is it now?" I asked, though
the words were needless; had not
lived with Aunt ElsieSfp years with
out divining her tactics--they were not
subtle.
Really, I don't know where the
money goes! l can't bear to ask you
for more after the last thousand. l
promise"
mo, please" I said, wearily, mo
promises! / am so tired of them. You
shall have the money. But, Aunt Elsie,
how long is this to continue? You live
liNt llllleS DSyOllu your annuity. L nave
broken into my principal twice to serve
you l would do much for you, but"
Her sobs answered me- Really, these
weeping women provide themselves
with an invincible shield.
It's Rufus" she moaned; 81 can't
bear to tell him. He thinks he is rich,
brought up with that idea-oh, it's
hard for me! And his debts! Poor
boy, he doesn't know how large they
are and how they crowd me!'
l could not see the crystal bowl be-
fore me. The smarting mist over my
eyes changed it to a pnismatic brilli-
ancy that blinded me.
"And how much longer" / said slow
| ly, "are you going to let Rufus depend
on you? Why don't you spur him to
work? How can you harbor this un-
manly, helpless spirit in him?" asked
contemptuously. My money has paid
for his luxuries and debts--he does not
dream of this, of course. But it's
scarcely better to be nothing, promise
nothing, and live on your bounty"
81 will tell him, Bessie dear After
this two thousand, l promise he shall
| know his true position. My losses came
| through trusting to Platt's schemes
| lost nearly all that should have been
| Rufus's. What if he reproach, hate
| me?" she whimpered, in servile adora-
| tiOn.
The end was as usual and Aunt Ell
] sic kissed me, and as she did so we
were startled by the sound of the street
door sharply closing. 1t had the effect
of a blow; we looked at each other in
dead silence.
| "Who went out?" l asked the sery.
ant who came in answer to my sum.
| mons.
| 81 don't know, miss. unless it's Mr.
| Darrow-but he only came in a few
moments ago."
Rufus did not return that night. We
heard nothing from him for a week
then two letters came, one for his
mother, full of tenderness for all she
had done for him, yet chiding her to-
ward the close, for having kept him il
| ignorance of the true state of her af
fairs, and bitterly condemning himself
the other for me, mere blottet
scrawl:
"No wonder you despise me. When
lcok back and think, feel as If a century
of repentance and honest effort could no
wipe out the scars left by the humilia
ton of one terrible moment. / shall
never be worthy of you--never! | Will
never see you again, and you will forge
me completely. But, some time, every
penny of the money drained from you viii
be paid and by me. Wait for that day.
will come"
l have not seen Rufus Darrow since
Letters mailed by a lawyer in New
York, who guards well his clients Sc
cret, have reached me at intervals
each containing large sums of money
and slip of paper bearing his sigma
ture-nothing else, not one word. All
how / dread yet yearn for the comm,
of those letters! How often my hear
has been full of desperate longing anC
hope at sight of them, only to feel tn,
old surge of pain and fierce regret, al
money, always money, and the bold
black signature along meet my gaze
My story, though an unfinished tale
is done. Rufus! Rufus! My dear, m,
dear-I had not meant to be so cruel
ly and inexorably taken at my word
If ] could know where you are-happ,
or sad? One line from you-just one,