The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1901-10-04
CHAPTER x.-tContlnued.l

Without q light | went up 10 my own
room, where the moon that had shone
upon me 10 my last nights ride, was
cleaning brightly through the window.
/ intended to reflect and deliberate, but
was worn out. | flung myself down on
the bed, but could not have remained
awake for single moment. fell INTO
deep sleep, which lasted till morning.
When l awoke my poor mother was
sitting beside me, looking very III and
sorrowful. She had slipped a pillow un-
der my head, and thrown a shawl across
me. l got up with bewildered brain,
and a general sense of calamity, which
| could not clearly define.
Captain Carey's man brought letter
from Julia just now" she said, taking It
from her pocket; "he said there was no
answer"
Her eyelids were still red from weep
ing, and her voice faltered as II she
might break out into sobs any moment.
AS soon as my mother was gone
opened JulIa's letter. 1t began:
"My Dear Martini know all now.
Johanna has told me. When you spoke
to me so hurriedly and unexpectedly, this
afternoon, could not bear to hear an
other word. But now am calm, and
can think 1t all over quite quietly.
"It Is an infatuation, Martin Johanna
says so as well as, |, and she Is never
wrong. 1t is sheer impossibility that
you, in your sober senses, should love
a strange person, whose very name you
do not know. A Dobree could not make
an adventures his wife. Then you have
seen so little Of her. Three times, since
the week you were there in March! What
is that compared to the years we have
spent together? It Is impossible that in
your heart Of hearts you should love her
more than me.
II cannot give up the thought Of our
home, Just finished and SO pretty. 1t
was so pleasant this afternoon, before
you came in with your dreadful thunder
bolt. l was thinking what good wife l
would be to you; and how, in my own
house, | should never be tempted into
those tiresome tempers you have seen in
me sometimes. You could not know how
much love you, how my life is bound
I'D In you, or you would have been proof
against that person Iii Sark.
II think it right to tell you all this
now, though it is not in my nature to
make professions and demonstrations Of
my love. Think of me, of yourself, Of
your poor mother. You were never self
lsh, and you can do noble things. do
not say 1t would be noble to marry me;
but It would be noble thing to conquer
an ignoble love. How could Martin Do
bree fall In love with an unknown adven-
turess2
II shall remain In the house all day to-
morrow, and If you can come to see me,
feeling that this has been a dream Of
folly from which you have awakened, |
will not ask you to own 1t. That you
come at all will be a sign to me that
you wish 1t forgotten and blotted out be-
tween us, as If it had never been.
with true, deep love for you, Martin,
believe me still
"Your affectionate
JULIA"
l pondered over Julia's letter as
dressed. There was not a word of re-
sentiment In It. 1t was full of affection
ate thought for us all. But what rea-
soning l had not known Olivia so lons
as l had known her, therefore l could
not love her as truly!
There was no longer any hesitation In
my mind as to what | must do. Julia
knew all now. had told her distinctly
of my love for Olivia, and she would not
believe 1t. She appeared wishful to hold
me to my engagement In spite of IT. al
any rate, SO interpreted her letter. ]
did not suppose that should not live II
down, this infatuation, as they chose to
call 1t. / might hunger and thirst, and
be on the point of perishing; then my
nature would turn to other nutriment
and assimilate 1t to its contracted and
stulti6ed capacities.
went mechanically through the rout.
inc of my mornings work, and 1t was
late in the afternoon before | could get
away to ride to the Vale. Ny mother
knew where was going, and gazed wist.
fully into my face, but without otherwise
asking me any questions. At the last
moment, as touched Madam's bride,
looked down at her standing on the door
step. "Cheer up, mother!" / said, al
most gaily, 'it will all come right"
| found Julia standing by the fireplace
and leaning against 1t, as IL she could
not stand alone. When | went I'D t.
her and took her hand, she flung her arms
around my neck, and clung to me, in &
passion Of tears. 1t was some minutes
before she could recover her self-com
mand. / had never seen her abandon
herself to such paroxysm before.
"Julla, my poor girlP said, II did mo-
think you would take it so much to hear
as this"
II shall come all right directly" sh,
sObbed, sitting down. and trembling from
head to foot. Johanna said you woulC
come, but | was not sure"
"Yes, am here" answered, with ,
very dreary feeling about me.
"That is enough" said Julia; "yor
need not say word more. Let us FORGE
It, both Of us. You will only give m,
your promise never to see her or speak I,
her again"
"Olivia quite understands about my en-
kdBSuSAt w yVug bdAu. IOIu 1er Al
once that we were going to be married
and that hoped she would find frien,
in you" s
"A friend In me, Martini she exclaim
ed, in a tone of indignant surprise; ''yo,
could not ask me to be thatr'
''Not now, I suppose" | replied; 9Th
girl is as innocent and blameless as an,
girl living; but | dare say you wCul,
sooner befriend the most gOod-for-nothin,
Jezebel in the Channel Islands,"
"Yes, | would" she said. IAN limo
cent girl indeed | only wish she ha,
been killed when she fell from the cliff,
"Hushr cried, shuddering at the bar
mention OF Olivia's death; you do no
know what you say. 1t is worse thai
useless to talk about her. / came to asl
you to think no more OF what passed be
tween US yesterday"
But you are going to persist in you
infatustion." said Julia; "you can neve
deceive me. | know you too well. oh,
see that you still think the same Of herg
"You know nothing about her." re
piled.
And | shall take care never do" sh
interrupted spitefully.
$50 n IL NJ M uea q. .. on ana arral;n