The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1901-12-11

ten.iy, his hond rested foi a min,
ute near to Alice's arm on the
table. Will. rapid movement, un-
like herself. she clasped both her
hands round his.
Lal, DEAR" she murmured,
everything has changed my life
the world-but you are the
samel''
.Just the samei" he repeated,
pushing his hair back from his fore
head. sBut d'you know, Alice, I
haven't told you anything for the
interview, have I z" "a
"Tell me now"
"I'm afraid you have heard it oil
BEFORE" he went on after pause.
struggles, tours, the deadly COM
monplace! But when my chance
came at last, three, years ago, it was
allowing to woman's goodness
a woman of great charm, great tall
ent. I don't know how to express
it, but she seems to draw one into
an atmosphere of color and fra
GRANGE; not strictly beautiful, but in
her buoyant youth like a flower in
bloom. There's q line sentence for
you, Alice! She was very kind to
me from the beginning. I found
myself getting into one good thing
after another. She has always been
popular, and people are good
enough to rather like us both. You
must come and see my wife," said
Lawrence. .'I have so often told
her about New York. I want you
to like her. I am sure she will like
you"
The sentence ended feebly. Alice's
face was cast down in shadow; he
could see nothing but the dark out
line Of the dropping head. There
was q long silence. When Alice
moved at last, she looked inquirirg G.
ly at Lawrence.
sDon't you think it is time to
go?"'
Are you tired?"
eyes, yeryr' said Alice.
'EMay I take you home?"
"No. It is late-it must be near
ly your time to return to the the
ater. I will go with you so far"
sI'm afraid you will have to in
vent all sorts of things for the in
terview, Alice. I told you I was an
awful subject!"
The cold rain was ficked against
their faces; the wind blew Alice's
hair in long wisps across her eyes
as they drove along.
'I think I will first go to the the
ater where my wife is playing" said
Lawrence.
Alice leaned back in her seat. The
streets seemed interminable.- She
lcngcd to be alone. At last their
cab stopped in narrow court; she
hastily refused Lawrence's entreaty
to drive home ard stood facing him
under the dim lamp over the stage
door.
Holding her hand, even though
she tried to draw it away, he thank
ed her once again for the sympathy
of the old days.
"Good night, goodbye was her
only answer.
The next minute Lawrence was
running up stairs to his wife's dress
ing room in the theater. He tap
ped and opened the door at the
same time. There was faint odor
of flowers and the bright little room
was scattered with pretty and costly
things. Mrs. Lawrence Bright had
just arrived and was standing in
front of the glass. Her long, cling
ing dress was as delicate in tint and
line as the Malmaison carnations
at her breast; her thick, wavy hair
looked as rich in color as old gold,
and she turned to greet Lawrence
with a flashing smile. After few
words he threw himself into low
chair and sat thinking. In the cold
and gathering darkness of the night
now lost in shadow, now seen by
the Pickering CLEAN of the street
lamps-his heart sped after Alice.
Suddenly he looked up ard met
bis wife's beautiful eyes in the glass.
A smile answered hers. Rising
quickly he threw his arms lightly
round her and stooped to lay her
bright cheek against his own. All
the shadows faded away, and Alice
with them. Mainly About People.
s .
The Changing Flower.
During the summer Of 1890, the