Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1899-07-13
CHAPTER XVI.

For the arrival of every train 4 car
riage from the Castle waited. At any
hour the young heir might return; but
of the two women watching in expect
ancy. it was the elder whose impa-
thence betrayed itself in a feversh eX-
element which she could not repress;
the younger was Still and calm.
One evening, when week had worn
itself away, as they sat alone in the
lonely magniticence of the silent
rooms. the noise Of wheels upon the
graveled walks sounded distinctly and
clearly on the night air.
The mother sprang to her feet and
stood listening. her hand pressed upon
her heart. The wife stirred no muscle.
moved no feature. Slowly the blood re-
coded from the perfect face. but other
wise she gave no sign.
The carriage stopped. There We're
eager voices heard without. The moth
cr took one. two steps toward the door
Then her strength failed her: she could
advance no further but stood with all
her hungry gaze in fixed expectancy
Her waiting, her suspense. lasted but
Il second. Then the outer door was
flung open, and with a low, glad cry of
Mother" a young man. tall. his fair
skin brOnZed. his dark hair streaked
with gray, which suffering, not time,
had ordained, his bright eyes filed
with tears that did no diShonor to his
manhood, held close-strained to his
heart that aged form, and pressed his
young lips, with all lovers arlor. to
that old. quivering mouth.
Yet even as he did so, his glance
sought something beyoLd-and just
where the shadow rested. it fell on the
exquisite, motionless form.
Silent she waited, but the smile on
her lips seemed forced rather than real
and fear rather than glatness was in
the azure eyes. But of this he saw
nothing. His arms fell from about his
mothers form. With one stride he had
reached her where she stood. With
one voiceless sob. he clasped her to his
heart and strained her to him with
strength which gave her pain.
There We're a few seconds solemn ST.
lrnee. 10 him the grave had given up
its dead. Across the seas the same
moon whose rays shone through the
open window as witness of a scene
whose ecstacy was beyond words,
looked down also on the white marble
OF a simple cross whose broken lily at
the base SymboliZed a grief beyond all
earthly measure, but grief which now
was past forever
The broken lily had blossomed again.
The cross marked it's resurrection. and
rot the grave. Then he lifted up the
lovely face, and let his eyes drink in it's
beauty as though thus only he might
Stake the thirst from which he had
well-nigh persisted. while his lips
touched. with caressing sweetness. her
eyes, her hair, her lovely, smiling
Notwithstanding now with a smile that
seemed bubbling from some hidden
g!adness, glance returning glance, with
proud. triumphant fondness.
MY love, my own, my wife," he
whispered, when at last words came to
him.
''Herbertv' she murmured.
He started
''Herbert?' he echoed. "That name
sounds strangely on your lips, dearest.
You did not use to love it. Has BERTHE
been forgotten"
A mOmentary cloud darkened her
face. Then she said softly:
Il had not heard your mother call
you Herbert then"
And the response brought another
shower of enraptured kisses.
Then. with his arm still about her. he
returned to his mother, and drew her,
too, close to him.
Tonight there must be no words no
explanations. no questions he ex.
claimed. But look at her, mother!"
and his eyes dwelt with worshipful
fondness on his young wife's radiant
beauty. els she not more lovely than
had painted her-more lovely than my
memory has pictured her? Darling,
these years so full Of sadness and mis-
cry to me, have ripened you into new
beauty"
"Hush" she murmured. 'They have
been so full of wretchedness, let us
never dwell on them or speak of them.
Promise me! promise me. Better never
to speak Of that past-never to ask me
any questions concerning it, or the time
when-when-I was dead to your
She sMvered, and he felt the hand he
held in his grow suddenly cold.