The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-08-24
WITH HER OWN HANDS.
BY CHARLES E. PEARCE.
..Is it 20 &c - -. IL? 2.


fair landscape he saw nothing. The grassy
slope descending TO the placid stream, the
line of pollards. the path on the other side
of the river leading to the Hodsbourne
woods. black against the dun red of the
setting sun. were to him invisible. The
picture before his eyes was the proud. dis
dainful face of Janet Langdon.
The girl stood erect. every muscle. every
nerve OF her handsome, vigorous body stiff
fened into rebellion. When Stephen put his
question she turned from him abruptly, her
blue eyes merciless. scorn in every line of
her beautiful face He heard defiance in
her answer. in her voice. but he could not
see how that defiance was belied by the
culver of the red lips.
You'd better marry George Hurst and
have done with it," said he. with bitter
emphasis.
Keep your advice for those who want it.
Stephen Musgraye."
why don't you say you are tired Of me?
I should know what you meant, them he
cried, passionately.
Really? Not you. You're too stupid.
Her contempt made him vince, the smol-
dering fire Ieaped once more to his eyes, his
mouth was compressed till 1t became little
more than white line
He lost self-control and seized the girls
wrist roughly-more roughly than he imag-
ined.
Listen, Janet" said he, sinking his voice
until it was scarcely more than a hoarse
whisper You're the first girl who's ever
trihed with me. and, by heaven, you shall
be the last. will never let you go, mind
that. Marry Hurst, by all means-I pity
him, poor beggar."
He flung her arm from him as one jerks
away something of no moment and laughed
exultantly.
She turned as fierce as he, her eyes
ablaze. her cheeks scarlet with passion.
II hate you-you-you cowardr' she cried.
He had reused her from her contemptuous
mood, and he drank in her enhanced beauty
with a savage pleasure.
Coward is it? Not a coward, Janet,
where a woman is concerned
Quick as lightning his arm was round her
waist. and he kissed her full the lips.
Take that TO George Hurst
The sharp sound of the girls hand on
his cheek startled the still air like the
crack of a whip.
"And that is my parting gift" she cried
Breaking from him, she ran, her bosom
heaving, her lips tremulous. along the path
across the meadow where beyond the COM
mon Hodsbourne village lay nestled in
the hollow.
Stephen Musgrave watched the girls
shapely figure till. passing through the gate
at the end Of the path, she was lost to
view; then, with his eyes fixed on the
ground and his hands in his pockets, de-
seconded the slope toward the river. He
still felt the sting Of her hand, but his
smarting cheek, instead Of exasperating
him, sent his love to fever heat.
The glow of the water cooled into gray.
the shadows of the pollards became black
ink, the sky was overspread with the
opalescence of a midsummer night; Stephen
Musgrave, his head bent, wandered slowly
along the river bank.
The man was nursing his love. TO what
end he knew not, though certain vague
thoughts were beginning 20 take shape in
his mind. Janet Langdon, a tempest of
emotions raging within her, was Fastening
homewards, carrying her head high with
sense of victory. II she had anything
clear in her whirling brain, ii was a desire
to infiict condign punishment on Stephen
Musgrave, even if she made it up after
wards. The fercer the quarrel and the
more relentless the punishment, the sweeter
the reconciliation.
BY the time Janet had reached her moth
er's house the white heat of passion had
cooled. She pushed open the garden gate.
and sharp pain brought back an irritat
ing remembrance of stephen Musgrave.
She looked at her wrist; grey though the
light was, five red marks showed distinctly
on her white flesh.
She felt the sting Of humiliation. Mus
graves contemptuous gesture. the kiss that
had blistered her lips. his taunt about
George Hurst-it all returned and set her
quivering from head to foot.
She was tempted to cry out until calm
ness returned. Her mothers fostering
questions just then would be beyond en-
durance. But it was too late, the creaking
of the rusty hinges had been heard. Mrs
Langdon met her half way down the garden
path.
Come in. Janet-come in. 1 was afraid
you'd be late. Farmer Hursts inside"
Il don't want 10 see him tonight"
answered the girl. sullenly.
Don't be a fool. child He's been wait
ing here an hour. fdgeting and looking
at his watch every five minutes. d you
NAllilh Ndn tell Wudl llldC uledIlS. lie
wanted to know where you'd gone-said
he'd walk and meet you, but 1 wasn't go
ing to let him slip 1 dropped a word that
you'd gone along by the river, past Patch
ANS corner, and that was enough. l saw
his jaw drop"
Patchams corner was on Musgraves
land. and Mrs. Langdon's diplomacy eff
fected its object. Hurst said he would
wait until Janet came back.
At her mothers words the girls bosom
rose and fell. Her riotOus nerves tingled.
A glorious triumph was within her grasp
a triumph over Stephen Musgrave. George
Hurst had been widower six years, and
the prophecy OF the village gossips that
he would take to himself a second wife
within a twelvemonth after the death of
his first had been falsifed. AS he had
prospered exceedingly and still remained
single. the only reasonable explanation was
that there was no one in Hodsbourne good
enough for him.
Janet knew all this. but she had never
troubled about the rich farmer until hand
some stephen Musgrave came after her.
II was fattering when Stephen openly
showed his attention, but she was not go
ing to be added TO the list Of his con-
quests.
There was no one she could so well play