Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-08-28


hour? 1t must be the Tilted man, and
he's playing Answer. He must be
right near here. Oh, heavens, | cam
stand that song! I've heard it too many
times when / haven't been alone, and
minus an eyebrow besides. Playing the
banjo too. Isn't it strange? wonder
who he is? Marie, Marie, please go
knock at that mans door and ask if he
would mind not playing any more this
evening. Pm very tired and can't sleep.
What did he say?"
'He just spoke through the door
like"
"Thank you, Marie. Go to bed now"
Edith didn't wake up till very late
in the day, but when she did it was
with that peculiar consciousness of an
other person in the room, and there was
but only Marie. She stood and stared
and CAPPED at Edith, half idiotic, half
frightened smile ON her wondering
countenance.
"What are you staring at, you imbe
cile! 60 down stairs. I'll dress myself. {"
For nearly week Edith staid in
her room, being particularly occupied
picking something off the floor or doz-
ing with the newspaper over her face
when the servants came in. She didn't
hear the banjo any more and complete
ly forgot the little incident. Her rest
less spirit revolted, however, at the SOL
itary confinement and she resolved to
break it.
''Who cares for lovesick man who
probably wouldn't notice whether l had
any eyes at all or not? I'm going out
Marie, my hat and veil"
She started off, and before long had
gone farther than she imagined, She
sat down for rest and meditation. These,
however, were soon disturbed by a
cracking twig and footstep very close.
Of course she turned round, but was
hardly prepared for the eyes that re-
turned her astonished gaze.
"Where did you come from?" was
the simultaneous exclamation.
''Beardsleyv'
Edith.
eyes, Edith
edith, what are you doing in this
out Of the way place? thought you
were in New York"
"After your telegram? Look.
"And you did this?'
Clocks like it, doesn't it? That's
what I'm doing here-waiting for it
to grow. Well, if I never believed in
fatalism before do now. Isn't it the
funniest thing you ever heard Of? What
are you doing here YOURSELF"
"Just thinking of year ago. Do you
know, Edith, it's just year ago today
since you went away? There's another
coincidence. But I must not stay here.
regret seeing you more than can tell
yes, regret it. Don't look at me that
way. mean it, every word of it. For
a year now my life has been-well, a
blank, my work poor, my ambition
gone. And for what? Because the wom-
all I loved to the limit of myself, and
who professed to love me six months
after we had been parted, was married
to another. That's why I regret Do
you understand? Tell me, Edith, did
you ever really imagine you loved me,
or were you just killing time while you
were waiting to 60 away?"
Beardsley, how can you? J. married,
yes. And no man could love me more OF
be kinder to me tnan Jack I feel wick.
ed and guilty sometimes that I do not
love him more, but he knows it, and"-
$50 you married without loving him!
= Edith, this is worse than thought.
but must leave here tonight. for
give you, yes-and God bless you, little
woman. hope you will happy.
Goodby." And before Edith could
speak she was alone.
"He didn't give me chance to say a
word" she said to herself.
She walked back to the hotel feeling
quite light and queer in the head. She
went up stairs and slept She woke up
a few hours later in a high fever She
grew delirious. Jack was sent for. He
was little puzzled at some of Edith S
rawlings and her smooth shaven brow,
to which she alluded constantly, but by
the time she was we'll enough to talk
the eyebrow had nearly grown. Jack
spoke Of it once.
"Just to watch it grow. I used to dc
it all the time" About her sudden de-
parture: "Just whim, Jack. II
Then she had All awful pain in her head
and had to lie down.
She came back to New York again
and was just as popular as ever, only
her friends imagined she had grown
older and more dignified. $50 mar
ried," one girl said New York Sun.