The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-11-20

gold chain from her neck ana flung 1t
away. Still sobbing, she sat down at her
pretty escritoire in the corner and wrote
to Malvern a quick imprisoned, contrite
imploring note, ending playfuily with the
words: And don't forget the Thanksgiv-
ing dinner again, Dick | shall wait for
you The note finished ard sealed, she
decided to intrust 1t to no hand but her
own. 10 give 1t to their man Saunders to
carry 10 Dicks house would be somewhat
IKE sharing with the butler a sacred con-
hdence. OF course he could not guess any
thing of the confession and the hope con-
cealed under the envelope. but Leila had a
FEELING that her letter was a secret which
nad better be borne by an impersonal agent.
So throwing on a hooded cloak she
slipped out from the house almost furtiveiy.
tucked the missive herself into the nearest
post post . pox and came back happier.
OF this Malvern, of course, knew nothing,
and As he sat here in his lonely room, brood
ing into the twilight over the thing which
mad happened, he wondered how it came
had to do with their lives, which had seemed
so happy few hours earlier. The scene
with Leila was like page torn out Of a
book. which he read and reread without un-
Outstanding 1t. because the rest of the story
was missing.
that evening his mother and sister heard
an omlnouS sound of his trunk being
dragged from its retirement across the floor,
the slapplng and banging of sundry objects
and the impatient steps and movements
with which an active man goes about his
packing.
Yes, am going away in the morning.
be SAID to them in answer to their inquiries
when he came out-'.a journey on business,
But how sudden!''
What! And on Thanksgiving day. too?"
added the sister.
shall go positively unless-well. of course,
something might happen to keep me-
any word should come from Leila he would
have to change his plan, but against the
hope of this he steeled himself.
6nN lfnrI.+
vlnced he had been wise in so doing, for
the morning brought nothing to alter the
situation-no word from Leila, no sight of
her, no pretext for going to her and discov-
ering that the awful thing of the afternoon
before-the breaking and enlargement
was dreary deluson, to be banished and
clined to reason severely, briefly and de-
cisively in important matters, which is
sometimes mistake in matters that are
not only important, but also vital. In this
case also he was under the serious diSad-
vantage OF reasoning without the most inn
portant link of all, the circumstance of
Leila's having written to him. Life and
fact and accident are sometimes slow in
explaining themselves. Leilas letter. sim
ply did not arrive. She could not know
that, and he did not even know of it's ex-
istence.
Surely" he argued, "If she were ever go
ing to acknowledge her hastiness and her
mistake she would do it now With such
girl IT is now or never, and If it is not
now then she will die before she will bend.
He waited until afternoon-no message, no
sign. Everything was in readiness for his
departure. but he waited Once or twice he
thought fancifully of the dead leaf which
had followed him and of its whispered
monition. What if he had gone back when
it came to him, though it meant nothing,
and had resolutely. valiantly made one last
effort to set everything right?
Bah! He shuddered at the thought of
what failure would have been then-a
tragedy, followed by a fiasco as an after
piece!
The carriage drove up at last, and his
trunk was put on.
Mother" he said, turning briskly to her
and to his sister Janet, before / take the
train my resignation will have gone to Mr..
Grey"
The two women looked and felt as though
the pillar of the household temple had
pulled itself down, and they were ready to
totter against each other.
Malvern continued: IT shall not go back
to him. Everything is over in that quar-
I'm mercys name, what is the matter?'
Janet began. What has happened?"
He took her aside and told her gently in
brief whisper.
begged. IF you will only wait, we surely
can set it right; If you would let me
avoid, Janet" he interposed-" discus
enough already" He. clasped, his mother
ing: Il shall write to you both soon.
and meanwhile, mother and Janet, remem-
Der my dignity while I'm gone Try not to
best not to see the Greys."
Indeed we won't!' cried his sister.
warmly, we shall not go near them. and
Thank you. dear, though I'm sorry"
He kissed them once again. The driver
of the wheels. a fiicAe. Of light dust For
moment Dicks familiar figure in gray
travelling coat and soft hat nodded and
waved to them from the window, and then
the farewell was over.
When Malvern saw again that street on
the outskirts of Windbury, which had so
long been his home, 1t seemed but a short
time since he had left 1t, yet in the interval
by,
The business offer which called him
away-opportunely, he thought, at the very
moment when his engagement to Leila had
suffered wreck-proved to be so favorable
and SO full of brilliant promise that he sent
almost at once for his mother and Janet
to break up the old household and join him
in the city toward the west to which he
had gone.
From that time his life moved with the
sun westward and still westward until
with his small family fixed at last in a
city of which he had become an integral
part, with widening web too. of great
commercial interests spread out around
him-little, far-off Windbury came to seem
to him in the distance of memory like mere
fragments of a broken mold from which all
this large existence had emerged.
Mrs. Malvern and her daughter had held
rigidly to his desire while they remained
there of having no further intercourse with
the Greys. The breach made was abrupt
and complete. If Leila, wondered at his
swift action was tortured by his silence
and abandonment, she gave the two women
no way Of knowing it, and the tenor Of
rumor was that she had been glad to break
off the affair so easily
Nevertheless, in all these rapid and busy
years no report of her marriage had come
to Malvern. He thought it natural enough
that If she had been married he should not
hear of it, for they had grown to be as far
apart as though they lived in different sky
worlds
Once, quite by accident, for he had little
to do with poetry now, he came upon the
old book in which was hidden the faded
leaf that recorded the day of their final
parting. 1t fluttered out from among the
pages, and with sudden impatience he was
the point of throwing it into his waste
basket when the mere singularity of it's
having been preserved so long through all
the changes and movings of his career
stayed his hand. A voice seemed to muir
muir distinctly into his ear, even dead
things have life
He had felt very sure the old love was
dead-sO sure that he seldom gave it even
the artificial vitality of thinking about it.
Could 1T be possible that there still any
spark of it smoldering down there in his
heart? Why did he feel something like an
affectionate association with the faded leaf?