The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-01-16

never gave him suits of clothes; but
| she did give Babette her trousseau, If you
| call that bribery. And as to being penni-
| less-she is not too poor 10 help other peo-
! pie. Who has kept the Gastons here all
the winter, I wonder? And who has been
/ paying for a south room for Millcent
/ Chase since January? Ask Frau Raster
| what she has done. 1t makes me furious
| 10 hear your abominable scandals. Miss
/ Blake is a hundred times too good for that
| snuffy old professor
Miss Blake stumbled into her room and
| closed the balcony door. She sank down
on the sofa. Her teeth chartered with
| cold.
Was it she who was shameless? Had she
! driven the professor from his home? Had
| she hunted him shameessly? She could
| not believe they had been talking of her.
| Was she that unwomanly creature? In
| delicate How could she ever face them
again? What would Aunt Sabina say If
| she knew Davos was ringing with her
name? How could she ever go into the
| town agan?-a woman with whom gossip
! was busy.
Had she driven him away from the AN
gleterre," his home for ten years? All,
| that was disgraceful A woman who
could do that was not fit to live. All the
| strength went from her. Huddled up on
the sofa she broke into bitter weeping. He
| had never cared for her! He had never
cared for her. He only found her useful
as an attendant. If she could only die!
| If she could only die! She wished she
! could kill herself. But he would hear
of 1t and be sorry. She could not give
! him another pang. = But if she were
dead he could come back to his home and
| friends. If only she might kill herself,
and no one know.
Miss Blake Cecil Carew was knock
| ing at her door.
m-resting-dear,' painted Miss
Blake
That's right. Don't forget the tobog-
gan race this afternoon"
Thank you, dear-for reminding me.
| Goodby."
Cecil had reminded her of the toboggan
| run at the Hohwald.
DO you want to commit suicide?" the
| professor had asked.
She gave a shazy little laugh as she tot
| tered up.
Il am thinking of suicide, professor"
! Yes, yes; and no one would ever know.
They would say it was an accident. And
he would come back. She could not face
| the people again.
She looked round her dazed. What did
people do before they died? What had
Aunt Sabina done? Said goodby? Well
she had said goodby And Aunt Sabina
to make her will. Something for Cecil
| who had been kind. And the profess
sor; he was very poor.
She had been present when the lawyer
had once drawn up a deed of gift for Aunt
Sabna. She remembered the wording
She took out a sheet of foolscap and
drew up a similar deed But she must
have witnesses-Babette and Elise who
could not read English. When the little
formality was over she sat looking at the
sealed envelope addressed to Professor
Sykes The beginning of the letter she
"a 20
med in her ears
In case of my death" Then she
might not die But, yes, death
| would be kind.
Two patches of color heightened The
whiteuess of her cheeks and the drawn
pallor round her mouth. She put on hel
hat before the glass, and she read hel
intention on her face She shrank back
"When they are at lunch l will start,
she whispered
The road was deserted. The sunless day
| pinched her face. Round the Haus Bara
tell she met the light snowfakes. They
| covered her with little star crystals. The
last morning she had walked with the
professor the sun had FURNISHED the peak,
and The chalet windows had smiled a
them.
She paused at the Dorhi Church an(
, put two NapoleOns into the Armen Kasse
| There was nothing else in her purse bu
her visiting cards. The bells in the tower
were silent, the cupola did not hint of sun
rise. Her feet dragged YEARLY as sh,
climbed the hill, but she took her way
still where the road soped to the river
She looked about her hopelessly. The jag
> ged scar of the Schiahorn frowned dow
on her. A crow fluttered round the three
peaks of the Grunen Thurm. zone 70
sorrow" she whispered There was II,
rainbow flash on the lake. The ice wa
! cold and dead. She dragged her feet alon:
II g A.I.-
hind her might have been the professor
heavy tread 1t was here that he hat
, talked of barrOws and cairns and turn
ul; and here that she had spoken of tn
black depths under them. How true /
had been And he had said Their,
was no future. That had beef
true also, for ner.
The red flames on her cheeks had burn
themselves out long ago. She coult
; scarcely pull her toboggan. Would sh
1 have strength to get to the Hohwald? TIL
ice-run lay like a blade against the sheer
; ness of the bank. Not a creature was il
sight.
She was almost faintng when she reach
ed the bank, but she dragged her toboggal
up, up, through the wood where the pine
. were dark, to the beginning of the run
She seated herself on the toboggan ar
ranging her skirts carefully The col,
seemed to have frozen thought. She onl,
knew that it was very dark, and that tn
, pines swayed strangely. The beating o
: her heart was like death She hat
scarcely strength enough to start tn
sleigh. She jerked it forward and it began
: to move slowly on the crisp snow unde
the pines. Then quicker and quicker. TIL
, | darkness had fallen on her eyes; she coult
not see where she was going. When sh
: | heard the scream of the ice under the run
, ners she knew she had come 10 the ice
run. wan smile flickered on her pinch
ed face. The pace quickened still more
She did not see the white banks fiashint
> past. She did not feel the winged rusl
through the air. In her ears there wa
, the thunder of steel scraping.
The professor shuffled along the road
stumbling in the deep snow. That fort
night in the Waldhaus had been horrible
+ No screened seat on the balcony, and tn
/ air like SO many razors; no open fireplace
a and favorite armchair; no English papers
no careful Henriette; no privileges of tn
Q Oldest inhabitant. Tushi it was an infa
e nous hole. His bed had been hard an,
' the wretched Duvay fell off and left hin
e shivering. That young German had snub
4 bed him, and called him bore. Yet ;
cultured woman like Miss Blake-Ye