The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1898-12-10

m Is long dine since we met SAG
"1s ii? / don't remember. It doesn't
seem long"
"oniy year"
.Is tina, all?" She sank lansuidly
upon an ottoman. and he sat down be-
side her
"You are not looking we'll"
"oh, that's only my style. a small
pale. big-eyed girl who looked Interests
ing to avert criticism from her features
as sou put It in one Of your novels"
THAT was written long before l knew
you"
'"still It was useful hint"
ITO those who feared the criticism"
~ feared criticism very much-lhen;"
you are unforglvlng," he said. Dit
terly, With a Slight flush on his dark
"oh. no. i've long ceased to care BE.
aides the critics haven't been so BAD
lately. You see. haven't written any
thing pretentIous enough for notice oS
q have given up criticism. It's poor
business, anyhow M,
''Ffaye you written anything lalelyYH
She knew his great success almost Dy
= heart. In spite OF the question
Nothing very good A good novel
that Is selling
at must be nice TO sell, am trying
20 write down to that level myself
He looked at her dIsapprovingly--a.l-
most sternly. He had put his heaFs mo
the book
II do not think that is the surest way
Of success"
she laughed scornfully. perhaps not
for a geniuA But am not one, az
wa pointed out by great critic once.
Probably he would now admit that ne
was mistaken. Time may have laugnt
MIN that your idea Of a woman was
truer than he supposed
Time" she sighed, destroys gooa
Hnnny OF our Illusions"
.My 4llusIon OF woman's goodness IS
not quite good. nevertheless remem-
benny mother sometimes, as wen as
He paused awkwnrdly.
4Other women
'Another woman. Tine belle dame sans
faefcl," he corrected, looking hungriiy al
her.
II suppose you mean woman whom
you treated badly, and from wnom you
deserved no mercy?" said she, leaning
her elbow on the couch and. putting her
cheek on her thin hand. There was Just
the, faintest pink flush upon her cheek,
and her eyes looked fathomless.
II am sorry--very sorry-tp see you
looking 80 fragile" he said. MS II he had
mot heard her question; May we not
have truce?Let me fetch you glass
OF wlne-or anything?"
She shook her head.
"TherA Is nothing the matter" said
she. "Only-only am not strong; and
things hurt me WrtinG Is too much
for me. I'supposa. II ] did could write
one really good book, one that the great
critics He rose angrily. No. no;
please don't 90; am no; aiming at you
now. One that good judges would praise,
mean--I would give up writing and be
"The good judges?' You want their
praise? The men who also dare to con-
DENIM"
eyes"
"Yet when they condemn-?"
'Thea-oh, suppose It Is all right. II
is tust enough. Oh. yes! ! know 1t IL
Just, But Il nearly kills me" She
laughed rather Historically. Absurd
Isn't M"
He looked at her very compasslonasely,
you are too exctItable. Forgive me Tor
saying 90, but you have altered very
much during this last year. You look
Overworked, overworried, oVerwrought.
You must rest. or you Will never write
your great book"
"vou know never could.
IT do not. / sald from the first that
you had abllity--even in the criticism
which yeu-Which hurt YOU (she dug
her nails passlonately Into her little
white palms,, "and for which you have
taken the fullest revenge In your
power" :,
II do not suppose II hurt you much?"
she inquired. with strange wlsiulness:
II ne had read her as he had read
women in his books he would simply
have taken her in his arms. But he
merely felt a thrill Of horror, at her re-
Iengefulness-a mental shudder that
such SOFT. fair. small creature could
wi0h to give pain.
ooh. no. not much" said he. Not
enough TO spoil my ART. such as II Is
Ny latest lady -ln-G-book has caught a
i'Yes," she said, thoughtfullR. 81 un-
derstood when / read 1t. She is a much
better woman than ].
II gathered chat you hadn't read the
book?"
son, that was my-nastlneis. OF
course I've read 1t. Everyone has read
#. Besides. 1t is part Of my business
nov to read the books OF you great peo-
pie" ,., 30.
''The Daily Thunderboit
He looked at her in mute aStonish-
tnent, For the 'Thunderbolt had call
ed his book the greatest book Of the
greatest writer OF the age-whlch he
knew wasn't true.
sYou wrote that crI,iqus?" said he,
slowly. II ought to thAnk you l sup
pose. But / confess do not understand
Tou"
"No." she answered sadly, "vOu do not
understand me. you never VIII UNDER
stand me, cannot understand myself
sometimes am full OF wretched
nerves, the doctors say; and only two
things can cure me"
what are they" he asked, eagerly.
Death; Or"
'Or?"
II have forgotten Happiness, I sup
pose" That was what the specialist
said; hut she interpreted II as love
this mans love!
He looked at her wonderlngiy. Was II
ioVe or remorse. or further revenge that
was In her mind2 He would have sacri-
feed his life for her. II need be, but cot
his pride. No. no, one rebur was
enough,
III happiness were offered. you would
probably throw II aside he said very
sterniy. She gave quick glance and
read his mind
you do not understand" she answer
ed'uuIetlg. with the tears very near her
eyes You mlsjudse me; now and al