Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1898-09-24

tNelS IleI u Iue-l WANT you TO Know
them.
So be it, | said and pushed back
the door. Then she suddenly flung her
self i'll front Of it, between me and the
row Of dainty frOcks and shimmering
laces. She looked like Cassandra guard
ing the gate of a citadel, though her
lips said 10 a tone l:cher than wine,
sweetor than music, Kiss me first. -
There was a long pause-Yeldham
sat blankly staring at the Goals, and I
gazed intently into the mists of nicotine
that curled upward to the ceiling.
"There are some kisscs,' he said
presently, that are worth the whole
sum of human pleasure. Pleasure!
Faugh! a rotten Notwithstanding to
those who only half live"
He handled cigarette mechanically
and lit it.
We had gone through most of the
dresses when we came to some fine azure
drapery incrusted with japanese gold.
g 1t was mine, she said, and was
worn by a woman | hated. She borrow
ed. one night after coming over in the
rain.
Yet you hated her?' l asked, tax
ing my cue from the curl of her lip
Not then. In those days | thought
men were true-George truest of all
and women good.
81 looked down at the gold storks on
the heavy eastern silk, and said, And
when did you change your opinion?'
When hung away this gown, and
determined it should never touch me-
81 rose to put my arm around her,
to break the s..ein of unpleasant asso-
Citations, but she moved away, and said
i'll a hard, almost defiant voice:
There is one more, tell me its tale
if you can, and if not
'She paused while | took the fine
lace ard lawn into my fingers. 1t seemed
summer dress, scarcely crushed. In
front, however, and on the sleeve was
a splash Of dull red brown.
PAINT l suggested, or blood. An
accident perhaps?' and in questioning l
met her eyes.
Don't, don'tr l cried, don't
speak! | flung myself back in the chair
and covered my face to avoid the sight
of herS-the expression of horror that
was staring from it.
will, must speak. Yes, blood;
his blood. Oh' she exclaimed, stand
ing i'll front of me i'll that Cassandralike
attitude | had noticed before. Il can
see it now. George had gone to the
country-sO he had said-and |, to pass
the time, dined with an uncle at Big
nard's. You know the room-the thou
sand lights ana loaded tables, the chinl
of glass and glow of silver-the gay
and brilliant company that is always
there? We dincd, and We're leaving aft
erward for the opera My uncle passed
out first and was about to follow him,
when, at little table, | saw George
and her; George looking down, down
into her eyes with hot red flush in his
checks and lifted wineglass in his
hand. | don't know what happened l
burst between them, flung the glass
from his fingers, and them
81 thought she must scream, but only
gasp escaped her. She looked at some
thing on the ground and added in an
aNcIl, strangely Intense voice, lie was
dead
1.-The tone compelled me to her side;
a torrent of agony seemed frozen at her
lips
Listen" she cried, still standing
rigid, though the thrilling tone of her
voice confessed her emotion. The YER
dict Of acquittal was merely doom to
perpetual remorse. A life for life,
was cried to me from even the daybrea
chirping of the birds.
'Oh, Aubrey, be merciful-spare
me all You can, for am like pilgrim
who faints in sight of the great road. I
know now that it is not the pulse of
life, but the color and the scent of it,
that makes ones sacrifice. l believe
that every guilty soul must have his
moment of high opportunity, of expia-
ton, and this is mine. You are brave,
you are great, you are generous. Shall
you tempt me-and stay, or will you
save me-and go:' "
Poor Yeldham's voice broke to
hoarse whisper, and l laid a sympathet-
ic hand upon his knee.
And you, Aubrey, you went?'
81 am here" he answered, with a
groan that was more pitiful than tears.
CONDENSED From Black and White.