The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1898-11-18

NIT that we have never been passion
ately In love with each other, though
we are devoted In our own way. do
always as like, and he in turn is free
to come and so and fill in his time as
he pleases. and we are splendid chums.
But you, you are such romantic per-
son, and take life SO seriously that l
am always afraid of you losing your
heart to someone and laying up store
Of misery for yourself"
When she talked like this 1t comfort
ed me, to whom she appeared rare
stray soul going to and fro without a
mate; and had strange foreboding
that in some OF her wanderings she
would find him-for such women as she
must love sometime-and she lied
when she spoke Of her happy relations
with her husband. 1t pleased her to
deceive people, but knew the tragedy
Of her life.
Kniven Kallender's broad, sweet
smile, that made him SO popular in the
world Of men, and the suave courtesy
of his manners to women, had never
taken me in. had seen the big black
bruises disfguring the white flesh Of
Dorothy's body, and had wept over
her when she had lain in white pain
utterly unable to rise from her bed.
The secret of 1t was that he was an in
termittent drunkard, and cruel and I'M
comfortable in his drunkenness. No
one ever suspected this; they were
looked upon as model couple by men,
and the women sajc that he was far too
good for her. So, where l would have
left him, careless of the world, she
stayed on, too proud to publish her
shame, hiding her hurts and the hol-
lowness of her life in friendships and
flirtations. The tale Of these was end
less, and SO daring in their innocence
that came to understand how wom-
an might lose her reputation without
losing her honor. Her safety lay in
that she could never see a man daily
for week without growing bored, and
the moment man put his passion in
to words, or attempted to do SO, he was
dismissed from her presence and "The
Red Ranch" knew him no more.
Il suppose have no soul, Peter,
DEAR" she would say in her exagger-
ated way, "or else l am incapable of a
grand passion. Any woman who comes
along can have slice Of my affection
for awhile-but soon get bored" Men
grew infatuated and mad over her, but
she kept them in order in her cool,
despotic little way. Understanding of
their madness came to me one night.
1t was at q dance, and came into the
dressing room just as she was unwind
coming out of them like pale green
star, diamonds cleaning and moving
on her bosom, l think there must be
something Of man in me, for suf-
feied leaping of the heart at the sight
of that revealed and suggested beauty.
1t lured my lips to her, and stopping
kissed her where the curving outline
of her cheek melted into the lips. The
blood flowed crimson to the spot where
my lips had been and spread all over
her neck and face.
"You silly kiddle." she said. Peter,
/ believe you are boy"
She was brilliant that night, and the
women hated her more than ever; one
especially, woman with red hair and
envious eyes. She always dressed well,
and that night she wore the loyeliest. OF
Partisan gowns, but even that could
not make her look anything but be-
spangled tiger cat. knew by the
yellow spiteful light in her eye that she
was saying yellow, spiteful things Of
Dorothy. Later in the evening heard
man say to Dorothy, IF you could
have Mrs. Lovell's frock would you
have her face?"
II would rather play Godiva to the
end of my days." was the answer, and
felt she was avenged.
Her adorers came and went in batch
es, according to the time it took for her
to grow tired, but they adored always.
In time I grew so used to the cold,
sweet short friendships and the faces
that came and went, that ceased to
fear for her, and anticipated the COM
ing Of her souls counterpart, whom /
believed to be seeking her. Once indeed,
when Desborough, great limbed law
yer, with broad, determined hands and
a close mouth, Swallowed the house, I
grew fearful for her. He would sit for
hours unspeaking in corner of the
drawing room, while she poured tea
for her visitors, discoursed literature
and abused and initiated her neighbors
and acquaintances-ne her friends;
and he would laugh moodily some
times at her flippancies and frivolities,
as one day, when asked If she knew
much Of Byron, she answered.: mo,
only one line: The phantom frolic of
her Grace Fitzfulke.'" She rode a lit
tie old pony her husband had given
her, which rarely If ever went out Of a
fast walk, which just suited Dorothy,
whom no amount of riding would make
a good rider, though she looked well on
horseback. The pony was afflicted
with wet nose, and Dorothy would
climb down many times and wipe 1t
gently with the little lace rag she called
her handkerchief
Desborough would accompany her on
these excursions, coming back moodier
still, and with devouring passion
staring in his eyes. But one day when
they returned his face was old and
pallid, and there was a little hardness
about her mouth, that knew he had
spoken, and she, as usual, had been
merciless. He left England the next
day, though all his interests were in
the country.
When Lewis Lyndhurst walked into
the shade Of her red lamp was so busy
allaying my fears Of Desborough that
hardly noticed him, so he and Dorothy
trod the old path unrestricted by my
guarding eye. and he drank deep of the
cup of Gree. All! and she put her lips
to 1t, too, and so was the tragedy OF
Tristram and Iseult once more to tell
1t came upon ms very suddenly. ]
was sitting by her as she lay among
the purple silk Cushions of Der d.
van with her hands under her head