Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1897-05-13

81 You think less well OF me than you
,.s,si. But If | have little hands, can
not help It."
She could not forbelr a smile at the
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS tone he had as
snmed. an affectation OF spoiled child
ishness. which she saw through Ut
once. But she replied, nevertheless:
well. l beg your pardon Tor teasihs
you. / will not do so again.
He. however, had risen from ms
chair, and. pretending not to see the
hand she held out, he silently went 10
the window, and stood there, iooknlS
out ON the park-like greenery OF heh-
sington Gardens. dimmed with mist.
She sat still. waiting for him TO SPEAK;
but he said nothing.
Are you angry, BertieT'
Then he slowly turned around The
gray daylight fell through the musiin
curtains, and gave him q pallid look-a
hue of Parian china-t0 his delicate
features. Very gently, with q deep,
melancholy smile, he shook LIS head IN
negation. And to her romantic fancy,
the sadness Of that smile gave ham q
poetic interest rs of a youthful god or
a fallen angel: the celestial softness OF
a sexless NEUROLOGICAL being. such as
she had seen In illustrated books or
verse; a man In form, a woman IN
face. She longed to invite him To pour
out his woes; and ut this moment IL
would scarcely have surprised her II
his speech had sounded like a rhythmic
al m~onologue, q long lament III blank
verse.
BERTHE. my dear fellow, what is the
matterf"
There he stood, speeches., in the
pale, slanting light, knowing hat the
effect must be almost theatrical. And
she. sitting where it was darker. could
see that his eyes glistened through
tears. Much moved, she went up 10
him; she took his hand and made him
sit down by her side
Speak. BERTHE; have / yexed you?
Can you not tell me-"
But again he shook his head, with
that faint smile. And, at last, he said,
luskily:
mo, Eva; l am not vexed. / car be
vcxed no more. But l am very, very
sad. because we must so Dol part, and
l care for you so much"
Part! Why? Where r you go
ingy'
Indeed, I do not myself know that,
sweet grill shall remain until you are
married and then l must go, to wan
der hither and thither, quite alone.
VIII you sometimes think of me, /
wOnder!"
But why do you not stay In Lon
don?"
He looked at her. He had begun this
conversation without knowing whittier
it might lead him, abandoning himself
to chance. But now. with this look,
which her eyes met in response. there
suddely blazed up in him a little dia-
bolical flame. He knew now what he
wsts driving ut; he weighed every word
he uttered as ii they were grains OF
gold; he felt himself very lucid. very
logical and calm. free from the pain
full. incoherent agitation of the last few
minutes. And he spoke very slowly, in
n mournful, hollow voice, like q sick
man:
In London. No, Eva, l cannot re-
main here"
why not?"
II cannot, dear girl. I cannot. not
with any decency. 1t is impossible"
The hypocrisy of his eye, the lam
guor OF his tone. his assumption Of in
consolable grief, distilled into her
mind a vague suspicion like an insidu-
Gus poison-the suspicion that it was
on her account that he could not re
main in London, because he would
have to meet her as his friends wife.
1t was no more than a suggestion. The
wordless despair which seemed to ex-
hale from him inspired the inference,
Gut her mind rebelled against IL; il
was a mere suspicion and groundless.
He went on, still very slowly, consider
ing every word as IL with mathematic-
al accuracy. And when l am gone.
end you are left with Frank. always
with him, will you be happy. Eva?"
why, Bertic?'' She paused. II
would be almost cruel TO say Yes" In
the security OF her happiness, in the
face of lis pain.
Why do you ask? z" she said, almost
timidly.
He gazed into her face with the deep.
soft misty blackness of his fine ewes.
Then he bent his head. and they filled
with tears. and he clutched his hands
as if they were cold.
"Why-why?" Eva insisted.
Nothing, nothing. Promise me that
You Will be happy. For IL you were
not happy l should be h~eart-broken.,
What should hinder my being hap
Ply. | love Frank so dearly % she ex-
exclaimed, though still fearing lest she
should hurt his feelings.
Yes; and so long as you are happy
all is we'll" he murmured low, still rub
bing his hands.
Then on n sudden. while her inouir-
ing gaze still rested on his face. he
said: Poor child
"What-why poor child?'" she asked
in dismay.
He seized her hands, his ears
dropped on her fingers.
"Oh. Eva. Eva God, who can read
my heart-If you-oh! I feel such pity.
such great. passionate pity for you. |
would do / know not what-I would
give my life If I-if you Poor,
poor child"
She was standing up now, trem-
bling, and as pale n death; Ter fingers
ciutched the table-cover, which slipped
as she pulled 1t, and a glass vase in
which a few flowers were fading was
upset; the water trickled over the vel
vet cloth in great silvery beads. She