Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1898-12-01
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had 8 o'clock tea. The public is bull
dog. If it doesn't get what it wants or
expects, it bites.
During her drive home the words she
had heard staid with Anne, but in
sisted on remaining beyond her belief.
Olga pitied, ridiculed, faded-she who
had been SO secure, SO envied! And bur
little more than year had gone
She sat with wide, speculative eyes,
watching the septinellike lamps flash
past, and tried to picture Olga as she
had been described. Failure had come.
and bitterness had followed Exhaust
ing travel, nervous days and nights and
the pains of wounded vanity had done
the rest Prosperity and confidence in
herself had been: the qualities forming
q foundation for Olga's whining uncon-.
Germ and amiability With defeat, with
struggle, the real nature had peered
like an ugly face from behind mask
and left her bitter, turbulent woman,
a logical development of the peevish
child who scratched IN Il
The house was wrapped in slumber
when she reached it, Butshe knew by
the light left burning in the library
that David bad not yet returned. For
several days she had only seen him i'm
the mornings
She went to her aunt's room TO see if
she slept or needed anything. The light
burned low and made big shadows
among the bed curtains the air was
sweet WITH the odor Of lilacs, and cool
wind swept like a sigh through the
place
Anne tiptoed to the bed and looked at
the small, huddled figure, the hands ~
ing palms upward on the counterpane,
the face turned sideways, resting on the
shoulder in the attitude of Watching,
which had become habitual. She brush
ed lock of hair from the wet brow,
placed the big fan which had fallen
within reach of her hand and crept out,
Olga's face haunting her.
A few nights later letter came to
Anne by the last post. TWAS from Lon
don, and she recognized Olga's hand
writing. 1t was the first she had receiv-
ed since her departure. She carried it
up to her own room, and even after the
door was closed she hesitated with it in
her hand, fearing what was written
within it.
When she drew it from its cover, she
read these words:
MY DEAR ANNE-You've had very hard
thoughts of me, know. You never wrote to
me yourself, and in the brief notes received
from father there was no message from you.
However, I'm going to ask you to let my hu'
initiation brush all these thoughts from your
mind, for am Inundated, and it is bitter to
say it, can tell you. I've failed There's no
use mincing words or beating around the bush.
I've failed, and I'm ILL., very i'll. Nobody seems
to know just what's the matter with me, and
don t much care. I'm probably dying, and
that doesn't matter either. But just now I've
got longing to go home. l have heart enough
for that know mamma is all broken up, but
still keep thinking how pleasant it would be
to lie in my cool, green room and have her fuss
around me she used to do when had cold
a headache. There's comfort in this and
in feeling that matter what I've done do
belong to mamma and she'd never give
the cold shoulder.
But then, as said, hear she's not as she
was and perhaps no one else would care to
see me at home, Do you think David would
take me back? l don't expect his forgiveness,
that he could the least bit regard me as he
used to do. But he may forgive me enough to
let me go back to my home, which is his now.
want TO go homo and rest, and this is all
care about. Will you ask him, Anne, and write
to me? I'm SO tired Of myself. You never can
know just how utterly sick and weary an.
My face in the glass frightens me, it is SO lean
and bloodless | long so TO rest, to fall asleep
in a safe place and not think or care what tie
end may be- You won't believe it maybe, but
I'm not bit pretty any more. I've gone off
horribly. At first minded, but don't
Nothing seems to matter. I've had my cake
and eaten it, 1t disappointed me, and there
no one TO blame bat myself. Cable me here at
Langhams, and if may return III so home
at once wish now I'd never gone the
stage. But what's the use of crying when the
harms donef Do try and think kindly of me
and welcome me back. OLGA.
Anne read the letter twice, and the
picture her fancy conjured of Olga made
pain rise in her throat. Of course she
would speak to David as soon as he
came in, and of course Olga would re-
turn. The pity in Davids heart would
let him receive back this wasted, disap-,
pointed woman and she would scarcely
remind him of the splendid beauty who
had failed him when he needed her
most. Soon Olga would be home, creep
ing like the ghost of herself through the
familiar rooms. Her soft step would be
heard on the stairs. She might be
changed in soul and heart, and in her
weakness and defeat be to David what
he had longed to make her.
AS Anne stood with the letter in her
hand she heard the street door close
softly Without giving herself time to
think what she should say she went
down to the study. The full gaslight
poured on David as he stood by the ia
BILE, his chin lowered. His face was
more than fatigued. 1t was pinched, and
she could see a moisture on his fore
head. He looked up, but did not greet
her or move.
David" she said uncertainty,
''don't be angry, but must speak to
you of Olga"
He drew in his breath and closed his
eyes.
"Ah, you know then, you know" he
murmured.
GIVE letter from her. And she held
it out to him. "She's very i'll and wants
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