The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1898-02-05

in Paris she would have almost forgotten
him, while to him she would be only re-
beautiful remembrance, as
Otto Bismarck excellently says-but still
only remembrance.
And still the room was filled with the
soft, sweet tones which weled from tho
piano. 1t had grown dark. Nothing could
be seen except the white keys with her
hands floating over them and the head Of
the Juno in the corner.
He listened, bewitched, to the music, and
wondered why he was so moved. Was it
really she? How motionless she sat there!
What music her fingers made! No, it was
not the women he had known. A trans
formation had taken place.
Suddenly it occurred to him that he had
perhaps been misjudging her. 1t was at
least possible, even if difficult to imagine.
Surprising that her light, hippant gayety
was only mask under which the real
woman was disguised! He himself had
worn mask. Like her, he seemed to be
what he was not. He had pretended to be
scofier, for modern society demands that
all real feeling and emotion be concealed.
If ones real self is seen it is in danger OF
being ridiculed. 1t might be that she had
only mirrowed him. 1t might be that she,
too, had serious thoughts which she feared
to expose to ridicule. Why should she
treat him, scoffer, earnestly? And still his
heart was chilled and his lips were closed
by the fear Of her scornful laugh. Her
laugh! How maddeningly hooking it was.
And recollection flashed across his mind.
He had made her acquaintance in the Isle
of Wight during the previous summer.
One day they were standing before the
emerald green st. Catherine. From the
summit Of the hill the ruins looked down
upon them. All around was holy quiet.
1t seemed as if nature were hiding her dear
est, purest thoughts in the rich stiffness.
AS usual she began joking and soothing.
Suddenly from the hilltop came the echo of
her laugh. 1t sounded sacrilegious, and
she shrank back startled.
And again he wondered if he could have
been mistaken in his judgement of her.
Dare he tell her what his heart prompted?
What was the truth about the woman?
The last sounds of the adagio melted
away into silence and the room was still.
Suddenly she left the piano and stood be-.
fore him.
Surely you haven't been asleep. Now,
confess. really believe you were DOING"
Her voice sounded just as usual and that
brought him to himself once more. He
was quite disillusionized now. What had
he been foolishly dreaming? No, she had
not altered at all. She was just the same
as ever Her seriousness was only one of
her many moods and was entirely super
fetal.
Sleeping! l wish I could have slept
myself away into nothingness."
Wouldn't you rather have dreamed?"
"No, would rather sleep the dreamless
sleep. l shall never see you again. You
know we shall not meet after tonight, and
what will my life be without your laugh?'
She did not reply, nor did she laugh.
The edge OF the thick dark cloud was
beginning to take silver tinge. The
moon had risen. He had taken his hat,
and as he grasped her hand, he said
"And now, goodbye"
1t was his last hope. AS he could not
see her face, he trusted that her hand might
trembe. But no, she was as elf-possessed
as ever. Once more he said very gently,
goodbye"
"Good-bye," she answered Not word
more. He went, but stopped for a moment
at the door and turned. At that instant a
stray moonbeam dropped over the edge of
the cloud, wandered through the window
and rested on her face. Two pearl drops
were rolling down her cheeks.
"Hortense!" he cried passionately as he
sprang across the room and took her in his
arms. She rested her hand on his shoulder
and did not laugh.-St Louis Globe Demo-.
crat.