The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1897-05-13

yOnQ fOrDearancer Is TINS the fOnQ
picture have painted of my home?
Pause, Marion. Think while yet on the
threshold. If your life is mine, 1t be-
longs not to the world. If it is the
worlds, then in it have no claim.
offer you, darling, all have. ask of
you only yourself, but I ask it as free
boon and one which is placed willingly
in my keeping. You must decide, Ma
rion, for yourself. I had hoped your
decision long since irrevocable, but once
more place the choice in your hands,"
"You say you ask of me only myself.
Is 1t not all have to give? 1 cannot
give up the world to lead the life of a
recluse, even though you SO selfishly
make the demand. One would suppose
I was a child to be dictated to at will.
It has all been a mistake, Mr.. Ellis, and
we may truly congratulate ourselves
that our eyes have been opened in time
to redeem an otherwise fatal error. We
part as friends, hope"
Friends? Who has been at work?
Whose hand may thank for having
laid this network of worldliness and
suspicion in the mind of a. girl, who, a
few short months ago, harbored no such
thought? You could not trust me,
then, with your beauty. You feared
I would guard it beyond the reach Of
other eyes. True, I might have held it
as a sacred shrine, but it's bloom, its
radiance would have been undimmed
till death robbed me of both. You give
me up, then? So be it. Go back to
your world! Glory in it; revel in 1t,
and teach men the lesson you have given
me, that the brighter the eye, the fair.
er the cheek, the falser the heart. Good
evening, Miss Reynolds, and with a low
light into the shadow.
Marion stood as in a stupor. She had
spoken her own thoughts for the first
time, for the first time expressed the
feeling which so long had rankled.
How cold, how heartless and worldly
1t had sounded even to her ears. What
was the selfishness of which she had
accused her lover but the reflex Of her
own? Had the world really grown so
dear to her that she could not yield it
up, even in the first flush of wifehood
by husbands side? How inviting the
picture had been! She had not really
meant what she had said. She had not
dreamed Nelson would so accept her at
her word, and wordless despair was in
the beautiful eyes, as the hot tears
welled up and dropped one by one faster
ard faster, until she buried her head
in her hands and sobbed as child.
But there was one who heard of the
ruptured engagement with keen exul-
tation, and suppressed look of tri-
umph was on Allen Fane's face when
next he saw the woman he had deter
mined to win for his own.
"You did splendidly, Marion" he said
to her. 'Have l not told you from the
first how selfish he was, even in his love,
that he never appreciated you? But
now, darling, that you are free to be
won and to WOO, will you not let me
prove that a man may be generous? I
could have given you up to any other if
thought your happiness was at stake,
but not to one read so WELL"
Hush, Allen, hush! It seems to me
dissertation to listen to such words. If
he were selfish, then is such selfishness
glorious. You call it splendid to show a
man who has placed his whole noble
heart at a woman's feet how frivolous,
worldly and beneath him is that for
which he sues. have thrown away the
highest prize life's lottery will ever offer
me. l have listened to the subtle words
which have first borne seeds of distrust
-hrrf hof o11 sc
with my own hand plucked the unblos-
somed fruit, can at least do him JUS
tice, and tell you my heart is his, his
only, though he may never know it,"
It was great benefit. The opera
house was crowded, and many turned
ere the curtain raised to look at the last
newcomers, who had just entered their
box. None who looked on that fair
young girl dreamed that she bore be-
meath that outward show heart sad
dened and weary, to which We're ever
added the pangs of remorse. Allen Fame
Is by her side tonight, hopeful, ex-
ultant as of old. For six months he has
played his role without faltering. Soon
L
rises and falls to rise again. The house
is enthusiastic. Flowers fall like rain
upon the stage. But when the evening
is but half over and the strains of the
lovely songstress seem to rise sweeter
and clearer every moment, a tongue of
flame leaps out from behind the scenes.
The song dies on her lips, tumult gives
place to rapturous silence, and on the air
is borne the cry of "Fire!"
Men act like madmen, women faint
and are trampled to death by the crowd.
Pale but silent, Marion turns to the
man at her side. He is no longer there.
Save her he could not. but for himself
lay one desperate chance, which he
seized as drowning man astraw. She
was alone-alone and helpless, deserted