The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-01-21
over him. Would he never get away from
Fawsett again?

Il
| Fawsett again?
/ H.
| During the next days a good many art
| lists dropped in TO see Mark A queer story.
| was running about town that he had de-
iberately destroyed the best piece of work
| ne had ever done.
He met his friends inquiries in a way
| that only confirmed their suspicious and
| his unaccountable fury added impetus to
the report. At last it made its way be-
yond Kensington art circles. and Rizpah
| heard that Mark was losing his reason.
| and she loved him still She had a right
/ TO go to him when he needed care and love.
| Why should conventionality divide them
| when destiny had removed the barrier be-
| tween them? Fawcett had been dead
| year. and she had played out the farce of
| mourning She had not loved him. She
| would never have married him but for that
| story he had told her of Marks desertion.
! And now Mark needed her, and she would
| not allow her husband to. separate them
any longer
| She trembled as she climbed the steps of
| the studio. The thought of the old days,
| when she had run up swiftly to meet her
| lover shook her limbs. The hours she had
| sat to him for the design he had carved on
| the chest lay on her like leaden weights,
| holding her back. But their weight swung
| her forward, too. If Rizpah could guard her
| dead from the vultures the modern Rizpah
| could guard the living. No one answered
| her knocking at the studio door, and after
| a few minutes she turned the handle and
| went in.
| AS she crossed the room Mark lifted his
/ eyes and stared blankly. He made no move
ment of welcome. and the change in him,
| his haggard face and strange maner. were
| knives in her heart. Weakness and irreso-
| luton crouched in the figure she remem-
| bered with it's splendid certainty OF
| strength. She pressed her hands together,
| and her face whitened. 1t was true, then,
he was losing his reason.
"Oh, Mark-my dear love!''
| At her cry he sprang up and recognition
| leaped to his eyes "Rizpah! Is it you?
You have Gomez" he cried wonderingly.
| Yes" she answered, with a little sob;
| II want you, Mark!
| She would have taken his hand, but he
drew away from her.
| Don't touch me! =" he said, sternly.
"lou ought not to have come. You don't
| know what has happened.
She smiled, calling all her courage to her
help.
"Yes, know what has happened. You
| must not send me away, Mark"
| She looked at him. and did not falter as
4 she added:
81 have come because love YOU"
| "You don't know what you are saying!
| he said, harshly 81 am not the Mark you
| loved. am -
'T know-I know" she interrupted. She
| could not bear to hear him to put this
| horrible fear of madness into words; and
| she ran to him and took his hand and
| pressed it against her breast with a ten
der caressing motion. She looked up at
him, her eyes deep with love. Mark,
| know everything" she said earnestly.
Don't let us talk about it. 1 love you, and
| that is enough. We must let the past 60"
He stared vaguely at her.
.You know about it? And you still love
| me?'
| 'I know everything" she repeated, ten
Derby and solemnly. "And 1 love you.
| Won't you believe me? Nothing can change
my love. Mark you will let me take care
of you now?"
He drew away from her, and sat down
and covered his face; and Rizpah stood
| looking pitifully at the wreck of the man
she loved. After time she put her hand
softly on ais head, and he lifted his worn
and haggard face His glance caught and
mingled with the love in her eyes.
How can you love me still?" he said,
hoarsely. "A good woman-and 1 -"
II am not good" she cried. with quick
| insistence, and then shame stained her
| face, and she bent her head, humbled.
Mark let me confess. L not good.
L am wicked" Her voice dropped till 1t
| dragged on the ground. "Oh, my dear,
| when he died-when he died-I was glad
| She hid her humiliation on his neck. and
| she did not see the flash in his eyes that
| made weakness and irresolution drop from
| him like dead things. He drew himself
| up, and his look probed through her shame
| to the love in her abandonment. He re-
| membered the passion and the promise
| of their past. 1t was for her sake that
| he had dealt Fawsett that blow She knew
| what he had done, and she loved him still.
| She was glad that Fawcett was dead. That
| justified his crime; he could bear pain and
remorse that brought happiness for her.
| And why should they not be happy? Why
should Fawcett still spoil their lives?
| All the old days of love thronged round
| him, pleading for their contamination.
With Rizpahs heart beating against his he
| could not deny them. His arm locked round
her, and he bent his face to her face.
"This atones for everything" he whis-
pered passionately. You shall be my Angel
of Life-my Angel of Love, that Was dead
and is alive again.
She lifted her eyes to answer his. but
as he looked into them his face changed
and his arms fell from her.
81 am the resurrection Fawcett's voice
drummed in his ears.
| They went to new world, where only
Rizpahs presence reminded Mark of Faw-
,cett. In the Alps health came back, and
| power. to escape from the oppression of
his thoughts. Sky and snow and mountain
peak built up a screen between himself
and memory.
Love diverted his morbid thoughts, and
as the weeks passed he became again the
Mark that the girl Rizpah had known. His
| eyes flashed with the old brightness, his
smile was ready to meet hers. his feet kept
pace with her springing tread. They lived