The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1900-03-16
She Did Not Care
BY Morice Gerard.
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CIR ROBERT HARRINGHAM sat
y adding up accounts at the library
table of his luxurious fat in Mad
dox square. The handle of the door
turned and John Freville entered, I'M
announced.
The two men were in sharp con-
trast-Harringham, cool, phlegmatic,
cynical, with the blue eyes, fair hair
and beard of the Saxon; Freyille,
dark, impetuous, full-blooded, gen.
erous, quixotic "a veritable Celt.
Their friendship was the alliance of
negations, secured by the cement of
antithesis.
"How long is it? Eighteen months 2"
1.-TWO years to the day."
$50 long!"
ut seems to me an eternity, but
the calendar is rigid. 1t neither meas
ures sentiment nor registers feelings"
II never quite knew why you went
away. Try those Manilas, the brand
is unexceptionable.'
Frcville took q cigar and lighted it
mechanically.
. II expect you will the less under
stand why have come back"
"Then shall not try. If the cause
is obscure the result is satisfactory,
which cannot be said of the other in
applicable spring of your movements. -
Had Harringham asked for solu-
ton Freville would probably not have
given it. Unasked, he proffered it..
That is why truth is rarely disclosed
in the witness box, evidence being a
playful game of question and eva
sion.
II heard three ENTHUSIASTICALLY
"And you went away for two
years. That seems to lack symmetry.
1t ought to have been a year q word,
or nothing"
Harringham was quizzing; but his
friend was not listening. Freville was
talking because he couldn't help him
self. He had been silent too long to
trouble himself as to the attitude of
his listener.
"You know how I cared for Di Les
. trange?"
Most people did. You made no Sc
cret of it,
''She had always seemed specially
kind-to care for me. I had never
said anything; nor, of course, she to
me. But there is light in . woman 8
eye-sometimes!"
II know; a dangerous light, like a
will-of-the-wisp."
$50 it was in my case. I found it
out at the Leighan ball. Di and Alec
Travers were in q recess together.
Before knew who it was, or, in fact,
that any one was there-I had only
just come up-I heard Di say: You
need not think that care for Ere
ville'"
"rhat was more than three words"
INTERCEPTED Harringham.
II never slept that night. Next day
left England"
"For the Arctic regions, to cool
your heated blood?"
Frevillc did not look exactly as if
the remedy had been efficacious.
A runaway horse, attached to a
smart brougham, in Regent street.;
people scattering in all directions,
women fainting and shrieking, men
chivalrously retreating into door
ways.
A 1.-the figure steps off the curb and
seizes the frightened brute by the
bride. They sway to and fro, while
the brougham gyrates on it's axis and
threatens every moment to tOpple
over. Two terrified women, blanched
with terror, look out breathlessly at
the unequal struggle being waged on
their behalf.
The man slips. He will fall. No, he
won't! He is firm on his legs again.
He holds on like grim death and the
horse is forced back. The modern
dress does not lend itself to heroics;
but there is q certain heroism, never
theless, in the tense figure. A police
man runs up; then another. The
horse yields to superior numbers.
Freville lets go the bride as soon
as his hand is no longer required. His
face is flushed and an angry welt
across his right wrist is the outward
sign of strained muscle.
A girl jumps from the brougham al
most into his arms. It is Di Lestrange
or it was two years ago.
1--WE can never thank you enough,
Mr.. Freville-mother and I--you have
saved our lives. must go back to
her. She is feeling faint. Won't you
come and see us-to-night-at nine
O'Clock? Then we can hear of your
return, and thank you.''
Freville had hardly taken in what
Miss Lestrange was saying. The ex-
element Of the struggle, the surprise
~ the meeting, SO sudden and unex-