The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1897-06-12
CHAPTER XVIII.


Goodnight, he left them.
CHAPTER XVIII.
LINK FROM THE OLD LIFE.
AS Margaret hoped and expected,
BERTHE putin an appe arance two evenings
later-the same light-h hearted, CHEEKY
BERTHE, with his never-failing good
humOr and his almost inexhaustible
store OF news and gossip, to carry her
back to her home and let her feel, in
imagination at least, something OF it's
old pleasures and interests.
Changes in o small place are always
more significant and of more general
interest than those in a great city,
where the identity of the individual is
lost in the great labyrinth of humanity,
and Margaret, whose affection. absence
had only increased, took keen delight
in hearing not only of the friends She
had left but OF even the slightest occur
renee about Elmwood and it's surround
ings, and, in return, BERTHE wanted to
hear about herself.
This city air has not brought the
roses to your cheeks, he said. Il hope
you haven't developed such fondness
for it that you will be sorry to come
back to US.
Never, Berthe; my mini can never
even imagine such possibility. In the
first place, I don't like New York, l.
actually hate it, though I shouldn't tell
anyone but you; and, in the second
place, I love Elmwood dearly. Then
there are things enjoy there which l
cannot have here; my rides, for one
thing. Occasionally l have ride in
the park, but it isn't the same as at
home. Here one must go at certain
Gait. and people ride awkwardly, too,
l think. I'suppose it is the fashionable
way, but it ism t half so graceful, to see
them pounding their saddles, one might
say. 1t really tries me to look at them.
The park is beautiful. though. New
York may we'll be proud of it. I have
been around great deal. Brian takes
me everywhere, and usually enjoy the
places we visit.
And Brian?" questioned BERTHE, meet
ing her eye.
Her head dropped slightly. BERTHE
saw the action He left his chair and
came to her.
"Tell me, Margaret he said, placing
his hand upon her shoulder, it isn't so
hard for you to answer"
No." she replied in low voice, 1T
should not be so hard now. My heart
has ached, oh, SO terribly, and [ have
been hopeless and despairng, because I
was alone-so helplossly alone. All, |
know what you would say. I have
friends. Yes, such true friends. Do
you think I ever doubted them. Berthe?
But you can understand that there are
sorrows which none can share. Lately
l have been more encouraged. He has
left me SO little, but last night he was
later than usual, and tonight he is
not here-at all.
Her head dropped still lower and his
hand fell until IL rested On hers with
a gentle. rcassuring sympathy in its
touch
Ali may be right, he said with an
effort at consolation.
Perhaps" she answered II can only
hope, and if it should not DC, the disap-
po;ntment will be so bitter. Last night
he did not seem perfectly himself. l
tried to believe I imagined it, but an
afraid l showed something in my &C.
tons. I tried SO hard, too-so hard not
to let him sec.
Why should you have triei:" cried
BERTHE, pressing his lips hard. Why
should you consider him? Yoa have
feelings, too. Must they always be
outraged"
Margaret raised her eyes at tbs
strong expression Of his thoughts.
II think women can't consider their
feelings, Bertie," she returned, with q
sigh. 1T seems to me that, no matter
how hard or how bitter 1t may be, they
can never got beyond the range of duty.
I think we grow to be hypocrites in E
way. We are so often obliged to hide
our hearts l know have often smiled
my brightest when my eyes were burn
ing with tears held back. suppose
the baptism OF sorrow must touch us
all, and I only hope that it may wash
out all that should not be in my life,
and make me Drawer and stronger io1
what is to come. Are you leaving me,
, BERTHE? I'm afraid you find mo very
doleful."
Il leave you, Margaret, to find him
, cannot bear to sit here and hear YOU
talk and. There; I'll act like baby
r next. Margaret, you are dear, brave
, girl. Long ago, when
Before you thought [ should gro"
, into such sedate young woman, IN.
terrupted Margaret. hastily. I'VE uset
: to fight gloriously in those days, didn
' we? Uncle fancied should always be
tomboy. wonder if he would recos
q nize me now?"
3 She finished with cigh, and the llgh
words had held such deep meaning tina
BERTHE found it hard to meet the eyes
; she raised so bravely to his.
. $50 long ago." he said, half absently
, "Not quite six years since l first saw
you. 1 remember the day so perfectly
You were just home from college, AM
you had two cats tied together by tht
a tails. thought you such cruel boy
Well, you want to go? shall see 70!
] again, sha'n't l? You are like breati
from Elmwood, Berthe"
You will see me again, ana soon
Margaret. Now look me IN the 1ac'