The Red Cloud chief., 1900-08-17
one HbRa WV 4 Fascinating
$50 OtHSJ 90 Romance
Alan Adair..


of six weeks. must part!
At last he reused himself: IL was
getting late. Joyce already would be
uneasy about him. The thought of
her pretty wifcly solicitude, and how
after today 1t might never be put to
the test. overcame him altogether. To
feel that Joyce was living, and that
he must give her up. that they were
both young and loving, and must go
on living apart forever. was too much
for him. MY God, help us 10 bear IT,"
Afterwards II came back to him with
profound regret that he had never
thought OF Veronica at all; but he
could be thankful that he had seen her
and had not hated her.
He crept home slowly. like a wound
ed animal going to It's lair. Home!
The very word hurt him. And he ana
Joyce had only this morning talked
OF buying the pretty house for their
summer residence. This morning was
II, or years ago Could it be only an
hour or so since he left the station,
all unsuspicious Of what was to befall
him?
For he had been unsuspicious. He
had entirely forgotten the woman who
he now easily identified as Veronica.
He had been happy as 1t is given to
few mortals to be happy. He groaned
aloud as he opened the door which led
into the pretty hall. His throat was
dry; he could not call Joyce.
But she had evidently heard the
opening door, for she came out OF the
morning-room, which they furnished
with the hangings they had bought
on the day he had seen Veronica. She
called gaily to him and a little re-
proachfully. "Oh, Alan, how late you
are, you naughty boy! And cur ride
will you have tea first?"
He simply could not answer II was
impossible; his tongue Glove to the
roof OF his mouth, and his dry throa,
could not articulate a sound.
Alan" she called again, come
along, darling"
81 am coming" His voice was, how
ever, so muf1ed, in a moment she was
alarmed. She came running out to
him.
Allan, Alan, what Is 1t? Are you
III. dearest?"
Her Inconsistencies almost killed
him. together with the thought that he
would have "a tell her. Then she
came up to him and saw his face. In
an instant she knew that something
awful had occurred. Her Jaw fell, and
she staggered up to him, putting out
her hand and feeling as IL she were
blind. She was unconscious no longer
for she remembered wildly the day
when he had turned SO white. and had
told her the reason afterwards as they
sat together at the hotel. Her quick
mind told her that his ashy greyness
and the misery on his face had some.
thing to do with his dead wife. Hand
In hand they went together into the
pretty morning-room, into which the
sun was shining, and they sat dowr
speechless. A bird In a bush close by
set up its joyous song. Nature was
full Of gladness.
Then suddenly he wrenched hi.
hand out of hers and threw himsel
headlong upon the couch. Sobs brok,
from him and his shoulders heaved
For a moment she let him weep, ant
then she knelt down beside him an,
flung her pretty, soft arms round hi
neck, and pressed her cheek, dowI
which the tears were running, agains
his, SO that their tears mingled to
gether.
Tell MI like this" she said. Blu
he could not speak. his grief was un
controllable. And so In whispers sh
began; 1T Is something about you
wife, Alan-your first wife. l near
poor Veronica"
He groaned, and an awful know
edge came to Joyce-a knowledge tina
clutched her heart and made her yer
being stand still. For a moment sh
saw nothing distinctly, heard nothin
distinctly, only felt Alan's tears upo
her cheek. Then, when the mis-
cleared away: lis she alive?" sh
whispered.
"Yes." he cried.
, ALIVE? Oh, my poor heart! Alive
5 Your wife? And IL"
r He sat up then and grasped HI
hands in his. You, you" he erie
l And the agony of his voice came bao
to Joyce for years after. "You! ~
l got to give you up, Joyce! You, Il
| wife of my heart, my own, my sou
You've got to be as nothing to M
How a ! do IL"
+ II don't know" she said feebl
"And yet, Alan, must"
o do you think don't know it?'
cried, do you think l would have "
live with me while my wife was II
ing? DO you think I should let Of
L person in this world point a finger
scorn at you? Do you think shou
It let you soil your beautiful white so
for me? Oh, Joyce, I love you too pc
y fectly for that, you are too dear to 7
le for that! | will say good-by to va