Western liberal. (Lordsburg, N.M.) 1887-1919, 1898-08-19
AN ARMY ROMANCE.

80
1t is commonplace of speech that
there is no changing the leopard's spots.
Tho keen observer of his kind who has
moi 12 axioms wherewith to work tho
theorems of life, but /, 200, accepts it as
gospel. Raymond, who was not q keen
observer, but a man with faith in his
heart, did not accept it. IN the face Of
advice and caution and good counsel he
decided to reduce it to the absurd aud
marry Cicely Granville. Success crown-
cd him, as even those who warned him
know now, but it wae "A desperate risk.
Far back in the days which it were
heresy to doubt were as good as they
were old, when Alan was just the stolid
small son &C Captain Raymond and
Cicely was but the angel faced little
daughter of Captain Raymond's first
lieutenant, Marlitt, the boy and girl
had been fond Of one another.
They had made mud pies and hunted
tho first wild flowers Of tho plains and
had ridden burros and bronchos togeth-
or. They had wintered and summerod
in each others company the mountains
and p~rairies of tho southwest while tho
land was yet given over to tho never
ending disturbances Of tho hostilea.
They had learned what it was to have
only ono another for playmates for
months at "a time. And because Ct tho
hardships Of long marches aud the joys
Of q half savage freedom shared togeth-
er they came to think themselves in
separable.
And then they were separated. Cicely
was to be civilized. She was sent east
and abroad TO school. Alan Raymond
went through West Point and got his
commission.
Thereupon fate-which at times does
what might be expected Of her-sent
him to tho same post where tho Marlitts
were stationed, and he saw Cioely again,
He looked into tho placid depths of her
long, gray eyes and remembered the
past. He looked at the curving red lips
and tho thick brown hair and guessed
the future. She had changed for the
worse and for tho better. She had been
civilized and was less frank. She had
learned to attain her ends by indirect
means, yet as m 60 she was honest.
But the sanity face was more beautiful
and the child was grown to one of those
women whom to love is to worship.
Ard in due time Raymond loved her.
There are men who take their love as
simply as they do the breath of their
hfe 1t is necessary to them, but they
do not go mad with the ecstasy Of its
possession. When Raymond had told
Cicely that he loved her, and when she
I..a y,sI 49,. l.onI ,.pIrn HE rl,DrIlar oNJ
had put her slender, clinging hands in
his and, turning up the beautiful, deep
eyes to his face, had said, II love you, y
he was satisfied.
His fault, if such it were, was that
DO was undemonstratiye, and Cicely'
though some count it a virtue in wo-
man-that she was jealous. or all vices
jealousy carries with it its own swiftesi
punishment. 1t realizes its unreason,
but is powerless-like q dreamer who
suffers and cannot awake, though be
knows the while that Inc is dreaming.
She knew in her heart that her lover
word was worth more than most mem
vows. She knew that his purpose was
direct end honest, and yet she doubted.
The tiny stone Of suspicion began t
roll. A question which Oioely was toe
proud to ask would have checked it, but
it rushed ON and became an avalanche
that buried and crushed their happiness
under its mass. Raymond looked on
dazed. He could moi understand.
When IL was too late, it wal made
plain. Cioely sat before her own fire II
the dusk and looked quietly at tho blaz
ing logs. The light ghone on her fail
face and on her cleaning hair. Ray
mond stood and looked down 1t her
resting his arm on the mantelpiece. H'
was an honest man. He had no inten
tion Of speaking Of even the love of thu
past to another mln's wife. but beside
the blank reality rose mp in front Of hin
the might have been Of his life, and h
Cried out from the depths:
'Cicely, why did you do iti"
She started back and looked up a
him. For one long minute the deel
eyes gazed into his eyes and saw Their
the futility Of an irretrievable mistake
The curved lips grew white and parte,
and closed again. She turned and biz
her face in her tightly clRsped hands ant
bowed her head against the back of tn
chair. There Is tragedy Of the ierces
sort that enters uuce, ut least, int
most lives-tragedy which seem to rent
tho veil Of ones universe IN twain nni
toopen up tho graves where ones hope
and sorrows have lain sleeping.
Yet we jecr At melodrama when W
are shown bits from the play Of exist
mco that mrs as nothing to the truth
w say II Is oyeracled. Il Is because j