Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1900-09-08
CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXI.
The night is half luminous. half lost
in gloom. Patches of purest light lie
here and there, whilst beyond them is
4 darkness that may be felt. Now and
again in little startling fashion. tail
lilies pale as death break through this
blackncss only with the effect of ac-
rentuatiug it, Overhead great banks OF
uky clouds bar the heavens, hanging be-
twixt earth and sky so heavily that al
most one looks for them TO drop and
crush the sleeping nature beneath into
one ruined whole Above and below
them run light paths of moon-touched
blue, out of which CLEAN Il myriad stars
the more brilliant because of the Shad-
ows that surround them.
Now the queen of heaven is hidden,
and now again she floats into view,
lightly, uncertainty,
With the mild gait of an ungrown moon.
She seems pale and powerlesS, and only
on such a path and such, sheds her
keen rays. Tonight her wings seem
clipped.
The gardens are wrapped in a dewy
silence; only the breath of flowers stirs
the air. Inc quiet way that Crawford
and Evelyn nave chosen seems to have
carried them far from the laughing.
chattering crowd within: far, too. from
those who, like themselves, have sought
tie cOolneSs of the night.
How calm the world seems i'll this still
hour How passionless So still indeed
That we can only say of things, they be!
Scarcely a word has been spoken by
either of them since they left the house;
Just at first a commonplace had been ut
tered and responded to. and after that
the reStful silence of real friendship had
been sought by both. Crawford, bur
led in thought. PAGES the shaven turf
with downbent head; Evelyn is think
ing, too.
What a strange night" says he at
last, stopping short within a moonlit cir
Gle, and glancing round him. Halt
gleam, half gloom, just like happy
life"
"Happy!" repeats she with quick sur
Prise and as If eager to remind him.
Happy! and half gloom?"
Better. than gloom unbroken, with
smile that saddens her unconsciously.
You think then-you believe" says
she, breaking off incOherently. "Ohi it
is too hard a belief; and as for gloom
unhroken! no one could live through
that
Yes some do
oh no. nor cries she sharply, as if
hurt. Life is given us without our ask
ing for it's it fair that the gift thus
pressed upon us, should be one of woeY'
1t is a mystery" says he in Il low
tone But one thing time has shown me.
To be half happy in this world of ours.
is to be blessed above ones fellows
You are out of spirits tonight says
the girl gently "else, YOU would not
talk so sadly. Ever since you asked me
to dance ] have noticed it. No. no."
quickly, Il don't mean to inSinuate that
you found your misery in that one
waltz, but ffear-.l fear you have heard
bad news today"
There is no bad news that could
touch me" says he YEARLY. Il almost
wish there was. But l am safe from
that at least
Yet even as he speaks the words, he
checks himself, as one might who has
made a chance discovery. Is he so sure?
Is there no deeper depth to be sounded
no mercer pain that yet may torture him:
lie conquers this newborn fear, yet the
shadow of it clinging to him suggests
ms next remark
How many friends you seem to
nave, says he land all old friends.
That is charm. | think"
lon mean that | have known every
u"dy here since | can remember any
ihing? That is hardly a desirable thing,
Il don't know. 1t seems so to me.
lou came here then when you were very
l"Ung! 1t seems sweet to him TO learn
any the very smallest. details of the
Early days of her still early life.
Il was Z, | think. But was wrong if
gave you the impression that l remem-
grr nothing before that. | remember
-'@3t deal. Too much" she pauses.
i remember my father says she with
sudden abruptness. Il never seem to for
i' that 1t stands out so distinctly,
""St as If 1t were yesterday"
"A profound pity for her fills his breast.
nat guilty father: whatever he had
none. there * no dpt1ht tbo+ tho
lhad0w of his crime has darkencd his
daughters life.
+, know nothing" says he softly. But
me memory OF, him distresses you,
WY dwell upon it,
An, why should | not. | would scorn
Myself If | forgot. And besides it al
Ways seems to me that some day--some
''ay she stops, and leaning forward
Looks lntently at Crawford. though fas
ne k9ows) without seeing him-'I
"Whatg' says Crawford almost in
"udlh!y. He too is leaning forward; an
Iud' "untable. an almost maddening de
,.'t % hear her next words has taken
pos 'SsiOn of him.
whisper.
He draws back as if struck. A shud-
W.! runs through him. 1t is only the SEN
>aIOh OF moment, but it is sufficiently
4.uhS 10 be real feeling, and to enable
".Hl 20 smile at it afterwards. Poor
ma. No doubt this erring father had
70 her an idol, and is now a MARTYR:
ICING wronged by his creatures: an in
rIlgeht man bounded into exile by sour
Mons society.
10 not dwell too much upon it," en-
nv ,a's ne again. "Ct course know moth
No; and l cannot tell you. | have
Ter spoken Of it, never. And even
IN. p;Iiiug n you, | feel, are to be trusted
"uii, | cannot"
am glad y0u feel like that towards
-, says he very quietly. though his
rs''i mas begun to beat with painful
'p'u''S' Perhaps warned By ii be rises