Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1898-12-01

Win Wnom she has d1ned, Hlrted or
had o'clock tea. The public is bull;
dog. If it doesn't get what 1t 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 but
little more than year had gone!
She sat with wide, speculative eyes,
watching the septinellke lamps fash.
past, and tried to picture Olga as she
had been described. Failure had come
and bitterness had followed E2haust-
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
foundation for Olga s winning uncon-
Germ and amiability With defeat, with
struggle, the real nature; had peered
like an ugly face from behind masl,
and left her bitter turbulent woman,
logical development of the peevish
child who scratched ~ i
The house was wrapped in slumber
when she reached it, Butshe knew by.
the light left burning in the library
that David had not yet returned For
several days she had only seen him jim
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 a cool
wind swept like q sigh through the
place.
Anne tiptoed to the bed and looked at
the small huddled figure, the hands ly-
ing palms upward on the Counterpart,
the face turned sideways, resting on the
shoulder in the attitude of Watching,
which had become habitual. She brush
ed a 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-Youve had very hard
thoughts of me- know. You never wrote to
me yourself, and in the brief notes received
from father there was 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 1t, can tell you. I've failed. There's no
use mincing words or beating around the bush.
I've failed, and I'm i'll, very ILL., Nobody seems
to know just whats 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. 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 as she used to do when had cold
or headache. There's comfort in this and
in feeling that no matter what I've done do
belong to mamma and she'd never give me
the cold shoulder.
But then, as said, hear she's net as she
was and perhaps else would care 10
see me at home. Do you think David would
take mo back? l don't expect his forgiveness,
nor that he could the least bit regard me as he
used to 90. But he may forgive 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. viii you ask him, Anne, and write
to me? I'm so tired of myself. You never can
know just how utterly sick and weary l am.
My face in the glass frightens me, it is so lean
and bloodless. | long so 10 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 a bit pretty any more. I've gone off
horribly. At first minded, but don't now.
Nothing seems to matter. I've had my cake
and eaten it, 1t disappointed me, and there g
no one TO blame bat myself. Cable me here at
Langham's, and if | may return I'll 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 David's 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
W6uhu6S5 anu u6lGdG 10 W DdVlu Wudb
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 OH 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