The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1898-10-05

red, but at last the white sualu, anu
he found she had tainted.
ssI did it once on the stage she
told him next day as they sat alone.
"Ah, what of the stage, Lettice,
now?" he asked
"will you want me to give it up,
Harry9'
He looked at her steadily.
"I want to do the best for you,
my darling. Will it hurt you to go
only as spectator
She caressed his hair.
''I dom t think I shall ever want
to so again. You see, it is a full
life we want. That is all, and you
give it me, for love you. y
But till she was married she would
work. The marriage was for the
ensuing May. Before she got an
engagement her lovers life was a
full one, too-full of dreams, full of
happiness. Her emotions ran over
and tapped him in Elysiu1n. Her
loved seemed boundless, her sympa-
thy perfect, her intuitions true and
clear. She understood him 80 well.
In March she began to play her
old part again. It was sorrowful
one, but full of feeling and passion.
The love in it was triumphant, but
unhappy even in its joy. Henry
Marlborough watched her play, and
he was glad. She had never played
so before.
ssI and love have taught her. God
bless her! She is dear and great
woman.
He took her home that night.
"I am very tired, " she said as she
let him hold her hand. She was too
tired to return his loving pressure.
"Poor child!" he answered. 81
know you are. But how you play
ed! Oh, it is shame to take you
from it. But when we are married,
then you won't need it.
He embraced her, and she lay in
his arms.
From that night on she became
quiet and pensive when not before
an audience. Her emotions grew
comfortable. She was not passion
ate any more, but only gentle girl
who loved gently. The southern
blood that had seemed to run hotly
in her veins was cooled. Only on
the stage was that fire resurgent.
There it blazed strangely. Henry
Marlborough was only content when
he saw her acting, yet in the acting
the other man was there.
"How do you feel for the moment
when you are playing9" he asked,
with suspicion of jealousy in his
tone.
"What do you lnean9''
81 mean to the man who is the
lover2''
'I feel, /" she answered. "as I
look"
"Do you mean you think you love
Mr.. Acton2" for that was the name
of the actor.
ssNo, you foolish man, but George
Chichester. /"
That was the name of the charac-
ter, and Marlborough felt relieved.
But she was almost cold when she
bade him good night, and he went
home feeling curiously unhappy,
though he believed every word she
said, for now he began to see that
she was very different since she had
returned to the theater.
In her mind there was a change,
and she knew it. 81 don't care for
Harry as I thought I did. Have I
made mistaken
When the notion first came to her,
she was almost ashamed, but when
it returned she only felt sorry for
him. And then an explanation
came. Henry Marlborough called at
her house on Sunday.
81 am beginning to wonder if you
really love me-, he said. "When I
used to come, you were in the hall
to meet me. You wrote to me every
day. You were SO obviously glad
when we met, and now you are cold
Lettice, what does it mean2'
She had had a hard and firing
time the day before, for they had
played matinee. She was no lon
ger ashamed of herself and no lon
ger sorry for him.
II can't help it," she said. IT am
what I am. You must take me at
that. I can't be different.
"But DON t you love me, Lettice2"
And his pain was great, the ring
of his voice true.
II don't know anything" she an
swered pettishly, half turning away
on the deep sofa, land I can't tell
you whether I do OF not. We can't
be different from what we are"
He rose and stood over her.
''Let me understand you, Lettice.
Do you wish this marriage to take
place9"
And she would not answer. He
waited for a long minute and saw