Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1900-06-17

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y . tho chances has coma But With
most Of those due meets there il no
feeling in especial. and"-he stopped,
swept his hand over his brow With that
panied action Clare knew already. and
added, with a sudden intense bitterness
that seemed resistless-"and one is left
to find out the reality too late! all too
late!"
Again that CLEAN of some inexpres-
sible retrospect struggling through the
darkened clouds in the mental fore
ground. PROFESSIONALLY there was
something that weighed IN the mans
mind. which troubled him now all the
more because as yet he could not evil
IDENTIFY recall and grasp what it was,
and which, therefore. must surely tend
to retard the reviying mental and phys
ical powers. Had memory only reach
ed vaguely to the troubled past since
the return of consciousness? Was DR..
Faber aware of this pain? Had he
seen any sign of its existence as she
had? If so, he would surely have men
toned it when giving her minute direc-
tions. Yet he might have deemed it
best to quietly leave it for her to find
out, and deal with it in her own ten
der, tactful woman's way. Well, she
vpn,Id COW po+bino yot ~ the rbxcinfar
but assume the latter premises and
act on them.
Without stopping the chair she bent
a little over Erleston as he lent back
amongst the cushions, and said, soft
ly:
Hush! you are barely thirty, and
too late is such a word. There are so
few things to which we car or ought to
apply it, or feel that it applies"
Then more lightly: and I cannot have
that brain of yours ever try to think
about anything but the present. That
is quite enough just nov for you and
me to think about. isn't it?"
He laid his head back to look up visit
fully into the fine face above him-a
searching look.
Eyes, quite enough" he said slowly,
after a pause. you, at least, are
music that is true to the last chord in
harmonies and melody-a sweet, rich
music, too perfectly true to ever crash
down in a horrible discord. Ali" with
a long drawn breath, how l must
thank DR.. Faber for sending me such
music, to benny Saint Cecilia"
THAT shall be it them" said Clare,
with her soft, vivid smile, perfectly un-
derstanding his feeling, because her
self so entirely free-as Faber well
knew-from that self-consciousness
which never loses sight of the differ
ence of sex, which always has the sug-
gestion of a possible lover in every man
met. The strong, impassioned, but
controlled nature was absolutely I'M
marred by the faintest strain of fem
inc coquetry, both as mere girl and
woman of the world. And perhaps no
being so quickly pereeives as a fine-na-
tured man, whose own forces are all
deep and fervid.
Being a woman of the world and no
ingenue, she had, of course ~ once
said to herself last night: "Whatso-
ever the pain and trouble that presses
on him there is, of course, a oma at
the bottom of it in one way or the
other" And to-day what had passed
enabled Clare to read still further be-
tween the lines, with inevitably a clear
er insight, at whom, at least, the great
er wrong had been done, from whom
had come the bitter awakening-too
late-the sudden crash into a horrible
discord." Some worshipping madness
of early youth for matured beauty,
doubtless with too soon proved soul
less and false. Those bitter words had
more than implied a self-deeeption on
his side, a rude awakening to false
nes in some other-a woman, of course.
Well, well, an old, sad story repeated
once again, only it seemed TO have left
a deeper wound than usual, even a fes-
tering wound. A story, she felt sure,
known only to the mar who suffered
by it, not to his relatives.
"The pity ont, lago," that there are
so many ways in which men and wo-
men wreck or embitter each others
lives.
But now all such thoughts must be
put out Of Clare's mind, and she bent
herself to divert that OF her compan-
ion. She went on through the wood,
chatting in a pleasant, desultory way
that should not strain or fatigue, then
would stop awhile in some lovely spot