El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1899-10-16
CONFIDENCE.
By Perley Pocre Sheehan.

Ny college chum Jonathan Harrod was
in love with girl out west. He showed
me her picture one night. She was dark,
with Il high forehead and shadowy eyes.
The mouth and chin were both well form
ed, but rather masculine. 1t was beau
tiful face, though not pretty
Although HarrOd had loved the girl all
his life-and she him, if there be aught
in the signs of the zodiac-they had a
misunderstanding of some sort or other
during the summer that followed his
graduation. When he returned east the
following autumn, he was quieter than
ever before and, if possible, more gentle
and sympathetic. He and 1 had rooms
together, where, in lieu of other inexpen-
sive paStimeS, we were wont to spend the
evenings working and reading. l saw
from the first that something allied him,
and, as he no longer received the blue en-
veIopes nor counseled me to lose my
heart, / guessed the reason and asked no
questions. He did not become apathetlc,
Jonathan didn't. His old habit of work
was stronger than ever. And now his
stories began to appear occasionally in
the magazines and the dear public to rec
ognize his name and to read what went
with it.
Two years had passed away before
Jonathan had made even the slightest
reference to this love affair of his, and
that was when he came into my room
one cheerless. gray November afternoon
the picture of abject melancholy. In his
hand was a crumpled piece of paper. This
he placed before me on the table, then
he went and seated himself before the
fireplace, where 1 could not see his face.
The paper was clipping from some in
hand journal, describing in f1orid terms
the wedding of Miss Winifred Conover
to one Amos Scheneck. Only half the ar
ticIe had been clipped evidently, and this
had been pasted on a half sheet of note
paper. 1 read the tawdry effusion through
then twisted it to pieces and dropped it
into the wastebasket.
Jonathan, my boy" 1 said, going over
and seating myself on the arm Of his
chair, who sent you this thing|'
Il do not know And there was a
world of sadness in his voice. THE en-
Felope was addressed in a strange hand,
and not word accompanied it"
We were both silent for a moment.
The logs were burning cheerily, outside
the wind was blowing a gale. Jonathan
sat with his face in his hands. when
came here to you just now" he said, Il
was chilled and lonely - the day is so
s0mber-and 1 had been tramping all
over the country, and-well, 1 came to
say goodby. 1 wanted to leave this life
and wait for Winifred in the next, for"
Ills NOlCe went StTdlSAt " Lhy hSdiI
'ah. Billy. 1 love her SOP 1 regarded
him with compassion. "You lie down
here on the lounge before. the fire." 1
commanded him, land stop this brood
ing" 1 pushed forward the couch as
spoke, and he dropped on it like an ODE
dent child. He gave me one grateful
look and then, under the genial warmth
and the fatigue of many vigils, fell fast
asleep.
There are days in the lives Of all. I
fancy, when a vague and subtle sense of
mystery invests the cominonest objects;
when our minds recognize new qualities
in common things; when the look in the
eyes of a child, the CLINT Of sunlight In a
woman's hair, the sound of a distant
church bell, stir feelings deep within US
we have never known before. That after
noon there was a white carnation in the
vase on my writing table, and as I sat
there bordering Jonathan's sorrows its
perfume stole into my brain like a sweet
and potent anodyne. 1t conjured up vi
SONS as fair as the dreams of Dr. Faus-