The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1897-10-07


fort that she lived, but when l was told
that the injury to her spine would be
lifelong deformity, then, boy as /
was. | made solemn VOW to devote nv
life 70 her"
The little figure on the lounge quiv
cred convulsively, and the tiny hands
pressed each other closely, and only
by a great effort did the listener
smother a cry of pain. Presently the
deep, manly voice resumed the story.
Il was sent back to the boarding
school before May (did l tell you her
name was May Talbot?) was able to
see me, and from school | went to col
lege, while my uncle and aunt were in
Germany trying the baths for their dar-
ling. Every letter was a torture to
me, yet | longed for them, watched for
them and shed bitter tears over the rec
orG of the suffering | had caused. But
it was ten years before | saw May
again. | went abroad when they came
home, but circuns:a aces prevented
farewell visit to Owls Nest, and / re-
mained, as you know, in Italy, on ac.
count of my fathers health. Do you
wonder, Roy, that was reserved, mo-
rose boy at college?'
Preserved, yes, and often very sad"
replied his friend, but never morose.
Many times | longed to ask for your
confidence, but there was something
that told me it was too deep sorrow
you were hiding for any intrusion"
Il could not talk of it in those days
| When my father died and | planned to
return to my own home, L renewed my
self-eNacted vows to devote my life to
May, but-do not despise me, Roy-it
was with an added misery and pain.
Remember, l had not once seen her
since the day when l carried her home,
after my hand had ruined her young
life, but l knew that she was deformed
| was young man, In the full vigor
of health, and, while my conscience
told me very plainly that | owed my
life to May Talbot, my heart shrank
from the only way in which l could
offer it. Common sense spoke very
plainly. Only as my wife could | give
to May the tender care, the love, that
might throw some gladness into her
life. And |, like a coward, thought of
the long misery of my own life tied to
a deformed woman that l did not love.
So l came home, slave in my own idea
to my duty, and resolved to wear my
chains bravely. 1t was summer wealth
er again when l went to Owls Nest,
and, to my surprise, the house was full
cf guests, most of them young people.
think that May must have gathered
something of my intention from my
letters, for she was no longer child
and suffering had made her womanly
even beyond her years. | on guessed
this from her manner. | had expected
to meet frank, cousinly welcome, for
our correspondence had been like that
of an affectionate brother and sister
but May was dignitied and even chill
ing in her greeting. 1t was soon eyi
dent to me that she was trying to thrust
other ladies who were her guests upon
my care, and to avoid me as far as pos
shle."
''But was she repulsive, Bob?'
"Repulsive! She was far from it, my
poor darling. Feeling her deformity
as such sensitive natures do feel any
personal defect, she had a morbid ide;
that she was hideous and yet a crav
ing to be loved, if she could not be ad
mired. Governed by this wish, she hat
cultivated naturally fine intellect by
constant study, poring over book:
| i,,Ic ,fh he
been seeking pleasure in fiirtations OF
amusements. With a sweet, pleasan
voice and good ear for music, sh'
had cultivated a musical taste till sh'
was wonderfully proficient, and hel
singing was pure delight to he
friends. But for me she never sang
she never played; never chatted as sh
did with her other friends, and avoided
me so persistently that at last horri
BILE fear took possession of me. In spit
of her natural sweetness of disposition
her affectionate letters, l feared sh
lad never really forgiven me, but wa
. too generous to let me know the truth.
Him! Not an unnatural fear. But
my dear fellow, when you found your
self so persistently snubbed, why dl
you not leave her? You had done al
your conscience required
But not all my heart desired! On
day, when she was not more graciou
than usual, l made her downright OF
fer of marriage. She was furious! Sh
, said insulted her! Nothing could con
vince her that l was not trying to max
: amends for the past, at the price O
MY own happiness. From hot indig
, nation she became pathetic, asking m
: how | could so wound her, finally leaN
. ing me in tears. To say that felt lik
| brute gives but faint idea of m
= sensations. l left Owls Nest the sam
4 day, trying to comfort myself by IN
] own virtuous intentions. But, Roy,
love her! l love her with all th
5 strength of my heart. Her deformit
= 10 me is but touching reminiscent
p Ct the tenderness l owe her, and whic
y I long, unutterably, to pour out upo
= her. To me she is the one woman
4 the world, and l cannot imagine