The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-09-23


was tall and graceful her black dress
severely simple. her cheek pale, her dark
hair touched with grey-so much he noted
AT the first glance.
You wished to sec me, madam he be-
gan She raised her veil. and the smiling
word died on his lips. As If on a ghost new
risen from the grave. he glared at her,
speechless
Yes she said. very quickly. but with a
thrill in her voice. Il wished to see you,
Paul.
Twice his white lips. which seemed TO
nave grown suddenly parched moved be-
fore he found his voice, and then the tone
was unrecognisable his in which he
gasped. "Leonie! Leonie: Your'
Yes. 1. You know me then?r
Penrose was generally. and justly accred-
tied with iron nerve. and he pulled himself
together now with effort, though his
voice was hoarse and hollow still as he re-
joined:
II thought thought heard that you
were dead"
''When?' The word fell briefly. incisiyeIy.
from her lips.
Ten years ago.
name died-there"
And you-why did you never let me
know"
L knew nothing of the mistake-nor of
YOU In all the years before that you had
never written to me-
NO. What could / say to you, Leonie?
Ask yourself, what could say? And no
letter would have passed straight from me
to you"
THAT is true" she assented slowly. "And
you thought / was dead?''
fes-when L thought of you. But it has
been the effort of my life for years past
not to think of you"
The deliberate plainness of the speech
was brutal. but the woman did not vince
The feet that had trodden over the fiercest
ploughshares are oftentimes scared past
finching.
Il know, the thought of me was pain
ful.' she rejoined, calmly that the Bit
terness in her tone was barely perceptible
even to him. But you knew that L should
think-I who had nothing to do but think /.
You know what have come for now?"
Yes. but you need not have come"
II need not?" with glance of startled
=.
Paul, what do you mean?''
THAT there was no need TO come to
raise the ghost of my past 1t has never
been laid, / do not thank you, Leonie, for
the mistaken generosity, the cruel mag
nanimity. that has made me the whited
| sepulchre 1 am. Better have let me stand
in my own place and pay my own penalty.
/ have been what they cali a successful
man. but no one dreams of the cost at
which I've bought all that makes men envy
me to-day.
'All these years 1 have thought you
| dead. but living or dead you are a re-
proach to me. Yes, you were silent but
| your grave has cried out to me out of
the darkness. I have tried my best to
| forget-to blot your name. your memory,
| out of existence, but all these years l
| have known that 1 should never escape
| you, Leonie. Unless beyond the grave
| there's the merciful darkness and ami
| hilation for which / have hoped, / knew
that you'd be standing waiting for me at
the other side of the gates. You haven't
thought I've been at peace? I tell you
that you. living or dead, have had your
| grip on my life all this time"
Il
wronged, and he spoke with all the bitter
| relentless reproach of the wronger as he
| added, There's no need for you to stand
before me, to brand me as the coward
| and traitor know myself
Il have not come for that
For what then
You ask me that?" with a flash of re-
proachful indignation. II have come to
| ask-to see-Paul, the child!"
1.-The childi' he echoed.
1.-The child!p' she repeated. Paul where
is she?" Her eyes searched his with ar
| awful anxiety.
Don't tell me-that she is dead?"
mo. she is not dead, as far as 1 know,
he added hastily, with dreadful mockery
of smile. But what have you to dc
| with her, or she with you? You are dead
to herr
"I am not dead to her." the woman re-
torted. 'Shes all for which / live-hav,
lived through all these CHASTITY years
| Where is she? There's one thing anC
one alone, for which I'll never forgiv,
you. in heaven or on earth. If you hav,
neglected herr
sTve not neglected her." he said sullen
w. "You think, and 1 own you've tn.
right to think, there's nothing too bas,
for me, but I'm not guilty Of that, a
least.
Where is she?
A girls voice was heard singing, carol
ing carIessly as she ran down the stairs
The woman started, and light flashed
into her eyes. Penrose's face contracted
as if with n spasm of pain; he made
hastv step towards the door. as If to inter
pose between her and tina. girlish voice
ssShe is herer' the woman exclaimed
leaping to the truth at once.
"Yes," ne admitted in the moments agi
! tation, 'but. Leonie, for Gods sake hav
mercy OF the child She knows nothing
she believes her mother is dead; she is
delicate, sensitive girl; the shock woul
kill her.
L must see her." she urged, breathin
short and quick, as her firm voice all bu
| failed her.
al tell you the shock would kill her
| IIeonie you shall not dea, the girl he
death-blowr' yeEemently as he spoke,
| was with cautiously lowered voice, his eye
| fixed apprehensively on the door. Ssh
must not know"
Leonie drew herself to her full heigh
| and looked at him steadily. ''She sha