The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-01-11

me! But I was mad about her. I
thought, at last, that if l had money
I could give her some jewels she want
ed and perhaps she would accept me.
That was how it came about. She took
the diamonds, and eloped with a mar
ried man two days afterwards"
AS he told the story the grossness of
it all came over him-the offense of the
exquisite delcacy of the girl beside
him.
But I ought not to have told you
this" he stammered.
'What?" she said, DULY. about the
woman? Oh, as if that mattered!" She
turned from him sharply, putting the
back of her hand against her lips as
though to hide their quiver.
Then she burst out: "Oh, why did
you tell me? Why? Why? oh, l wish
you had not told mel" She shook from
head to foot. But it will make no diff
ference! l will not let it make any
difference. l am going to marry you.
Only-I never knew you"
Those most terrible words. those
words with which Love destroys itself,
came like blow between the eyes. He
grew very pale. She stopped crying
suddenly, and stood, painting, steadying
herself by her hands upon his breast,
and staring at him. There was some
thing almost terrifying in this sudden
pause and in her burning look.
It's the one thing" she said, don't
you see, that lasts? 1t isn't like-other
things
But it was not l." he said mechan-
ically. Not /, the man you--you
thought you knew. 1t was a boy,
twenty-three years ago. Amy, Amy!
Twenty-three years ago."
She did not listen; she kept repeating
to herself: 1T shall make no difference.
i will not let it make any difference"
Alas, 1t was not for her to say! The
difference was made; the jewel crushed
under foot is no more a jewel; the rose
thrown into the fire is no more a rose.
The stained human soul is no more the
innocent human soul.
But you must listen to me, Amy" he
said. mo, 1 will NOT speak until you
are calm Sit down. Look at me. Now,
listen to what l have to say" He forced
himself to speak slowly and gently, as
one does to terrified, unreasonable
child
is it a part of my life that l had forgot
ten it. When l remembered it last
night, it was a sense of astonishment,
a sense of pity for the mad boy who did
it. l had no personal shame-it seemed
to belong to some one else, whom 7
watched with sorrow and Indignation.
l do not believe that today, more than
twenty years afterwards, l have any
business to think of it,
Then why did you tell me?" she
said, wearily. "Oh, don't talk about
it anymore. l am going to forget it.
Good-by. I am going upstairs. l have
headache. GOodby."
She let her hand slip listlessly out of
his, and left him standing, blankly,
his lips parted for another protest, and
the flowers from her belt between his
fingers.
AS he went out past the drawing
room door, Mrs. Paul called to him.
'Do come here moment, Mr.. West.
Qsnt Amy pretty in her wedding
dressD You really must tell me what
to do about something. There is
family" and she entered upon a puz-
zling question of relief work, her fore
head gathering into frown. yet with
her kind eyes denying the severe COM
mon sense of her statement, that if a
man will not work neither shall he
eat.
But you see, we can't let the chill
dren go hungry" she ended.
The consideration of other peoples
weaknesses and wickedness, gave Will
liam West time to get his breath: he
threw himself into the question with
that intelligent sympathy which was
characteristic of him. He pointed out
this; he suggested that: he cleared the
puzzle out of Mrs. Paul's face, and all
the time he was half deafened by
clamortng suspicion: Have l been
fool? She will never forget it! 1t will
always be between US. I've been cow
ardly fool"
We'll, that's all settled" said Mrs.
Paul, with an air of relief: now tell
me, what day shall / have Amys things
sent to the rectory? And shall take
the silver from the bank the day be-
fore you arrive? Is it safe to leave
1t at your house? l hate the RESPONSE
bility of other peoples silver!"
"Oh, certainly, yes" he answered,