Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1901-09-26

did now.
"wslll what Ia itY she asked curtiy.
The inclslyeness OF her tone brought life
Into me. au probe sometimes brings 6
patient out OF stupor.
JULIE" ] said. ARE you quits sure you
love mo enough to be happy with me as
my wifsf"
Il know you well enough to be a. hap
py as the day is long with you," she re-
piled. the color rushing 10 her face.
You do not often look as II you loved
me-" | said at last.
THAT is only my way" she answered.
II can't be soft and purrlng Ike many
women. don't care 10 be always kiss
ing and hanging about anybody. But II
you are afraid don't love you enough
we'll! | will ask you what you think in
ten years time"
What would you say II told yon l
had once loved glrl better than DO
your | asked.
That's not true" she said sharply.
I've known you all your life, and You
could not hide such thing from your
mother and me. You are only laughing
at me, Martin"
"Eeaven knows I'm not laughing"
answered solemnly; "it's no laughing
matter. Julia, there Ia a girl love bet
ter than you, even now"
The color aud the smile faded out OF
her face, leaving Il ashy pale. Her lips
parted once or twice, but her voice failed
her. Then she broke out into short
hysterlcal laugh.
hNnu ara fnlk ina trnsaaaa daaR Mar.
tln," she gasped; you ought notl am
not very strong. Tell me Il ls Joke"
Il cannot" replied, painfully and
sorrowfully; "lt Is the truth, though
would almost rather face death than own
Il. love you dearly, Julia; but | love
another woman better"
There was dead silence In the room af-
ter those words. | could not hear Julia
breathe or move, and could not look at
her, My eyes were turned towards the
window and the Islands across tho sea,
purple and hazy ln the distance.
Leave mel" she said, after very
long stiffness: "go away, Martin"
Il cannot leave you alone," | exclalm
ed; mo, | VIII not, Julia. Let me tell
you more; let me explain L all. You
ought to know everything now"
TO away she repeated. In q mechan-
lcai way.
healtated STILL seeing her white and
trembling. with her eyes CLASSY and fixed.
But she motioned me from her towards
the door. and her pale lips parted again
to relterata her command.
How crossed that room do not
know: but the moment after had closed
the door heard the key turn In the lock
| dared not quit tho house and leave her
alone In such a state; and | longed ar
IDENTIFY to hear the clocks chime Eve, and
the sound OF Johanna's coach wheels on
the roughly paved street.
That was one OF the longest half hours
In my life. stood at the street door
watching and waiting, and nodding to
people who passed by, and who simper
ed at me In the most inane fashion.
The foolsl called them to myself. At
length Johanna turned the corner, and
her pony carriage came rattling cheer
fully over the large round stones. ran
to meet her.
For heavens sake so to Julia!' |
cried. II have told her"
Anu Nhat uVeh sue say ASkeu 10
hanna.
mot word, not syllable" | replied.
except to bid me so away. She has
locked herself into the drawing ROOM
"Then you had better go away alto
gether," she said, "and leave me to deal
with her. Don't come In, and then can
sag you are not here"
A friend Of mine lived In the opposite
house, and though knew he was not at
home, | knocked at his door and asked
permission to rest for while.
The windows looked Into the street,
aud there sat watching the door of our
new house, for Johanna and Julia to
come out. At length Julia appeared. her
face completely hidden behind veil. Jo-
hanna helped her into the low carriage,
as II she had been an invalid. Then they
drove of, and were soon out of my sight.
BY this time our dinner hour was near,
and knew my mother would be looking
out for us both. | was thankful to find
at the table visitor, one Of my fathers
patients, widow with high color,
loud voice and boisterous spirits, who
kept up rattle Of conversation with
DIR. Dobree My mother glanced anx-
iously at me, but she could say little
"Where Is JuliaY she had inquired, as
we sat down to dinner without her.
''Julia2" l said absently; ''oh! she Is
gone to the Vale, with Johanna Carey"
"Will she come back to-nlght?" asked
my mother,
"Not tonight" said aloud /; but to my
self added, nor for many nights to
come; never, most probably, whilst | am
under this roof. We have been building
onr house upon the sand, and the foods
have come, and the winds have blown,
and the house has fallen; but my mother
knows nothing Of the catastrophe yet"
She read trouble In my face, as clearly
as one sees thunder cloud In the sky,
and she could not rest till she had faith
omed 1t. went up into my own room,
where | should be alone to think over
things. heard her tapping lightly at
the deer. She was not In the habit of
leaylnga her guests, and was surprised
and perplexed at seeing her.
your father and Mrs. Murray are
having game Of chess, she said. I'VE
can be alone together half an hour. And
now tell me what is the matterf There
Is something going wrong with you."
She sank down weariedly into = chair,
and | knelt down beside her. 1t was
almost harder to tell her than to tell
Julia; but II was worse than useless to
put Off the evil moment.
Mother, am not going to marry my
cousin, for love somebody else. and ]
told Julia SO this afternoon. 1t Is broken
of for good now"
She gave me no answer, and looked
up into her dear face In alarm, 1t had
grown rigid, and peculiar blue tinge Of
pallor was spreading over 1t. Her head
had fallen back against the chair. It