The Virginia enterprise., 1902-06-13
Guilt Has Its Own Tongue.

Madison Cawein in Atlantic.
--.-..@.-.=
Guilt Has Its Own Tongue.
The light Of the lamp had grown dim,
but neither Of them had noticed it. Ar
thur was gazing fxedly at vivid, ar
dent fame in the fireplace; Helen con-
templating a vacillating fame nearby,
now blue. now rose, that escaped like a
capricious will-o'-the-wisp from partial
ly-consumed log.
At length Arthur broke the silence.
did you have many visitors today?"
he asked.
"Quite. a number-there were Mrs.
Schuyler, Henry Harrington. old Mrs.
Cheyne, Bessie Murray"
And who else?"
mo one particularly-the usual assort-
ment Of every Tuesday, but Bessie"
We'll, what about Bessie:"
''She was peculiar-pale. seemingly ill
and agitated, but in spite of all, prettier
even than usual. While speaking on in
different topics she feverishly tore bits
sudden she drew closer to me and took
my hands in hers.
'''Do you believe she asked, that a
woman who has been deeply loved can
i've without love!
what did you answer?"
NOthing-astOnishme kept me mute.
and even now l am still striving to find
out just what Bessie meant"
"Her meaning is evident enough. Your
friend is neglected by her husband and
greatly courted in society. She is yet
innocent, but has reached that point
where woman needs a confdant to
hold her back from the abyss or to ex-
cuse her if she slips theron.''
Poor Bessie-poor Bessie" and Helen
returned to her contemplation of the red
and blue flames on the hearth. Then.
bestowing on her husband look of in
effable tenderness, she went on: How
happy | am. Arthur, for your love for
Yes, my darling"
"Ihey say, though, that happiness is a
myth, yet it seems to me that God must
have given it to ali, only we do not know
how to keep it-and, generally, in a fam
iily, it is the husband who is it's guard
ian: Arthur. you have nothing to say?'
What a child you are!"
''Truly? All 1 see and hear around me
in society astonishes me more and more
each day, and often regret having left
my country home. There Bessie would
not have been neglected."
'Still harping on Bessie! Did YOU
receive no other visitors as interesting?
~ - olie VI lne pledSuieS OI people or
the world to view as IN a magic lantern
the eccentric types Of humanity.''
Il saw Marie, who told me something
extraordinary, almost incredible, and yet
it seems it is true
Tell me what it was"
1T is a clairvoyant story. I laughed
over it at first, as you are doing now,
but ended by trembling"
I'VE shall see if am impressionable."
1.-The clairvOyant Of whom l speak-a
woman-lives in an obscure quarter Of
the city, and, it appears, can read your
thoughts accurately and even those Of
persons not present, if he is given a
lock e:1 of Of their i, hair"
''She told Marie how to find some lace
that had been stolen from her"
Mere chancev'
And spoke; to her of secret known
only to herself.'
"A woman never possesses secret
known only to herself"
"Often there are mysteries that are
such for none save those most directly
Interested"
I'm spite of what you say 1 quite long
to go and consult that woman. Suppose
/ take her lock of your hair?'
'Oh. nonsensev'
would be such fun: III tell you every
thing she says"
No; 1 don't desire any fun of that
sort .
why not?"
because"
Because is not an answer. 1t is what
We apply. to children whose curiosity we
do not wish to satisfy
What you ask is improper"
Improper! For what reason? l do
not understand YOU"
You understand nothing. 1t seems to
ought to have somewhat sharpened your
"Oh, Arthur! How can two persons
who love each other have anything to
fear from esla9irvoyants? You believe in
Il believe in the credulity of women"
Arthur, beseech you, let me cut /,
lock of your hair"
"we}1 ~1 fGrSjd B; you'"
But that voice that used to reassure
her only augments her uneasiness, for
she no longer recognizes it. Again she
takes refuge in her thoughts. Why does
voyant? Why? Why?
Her heart beats violently and sharp
pang assails it; doubt is entering therein.
II Arthur were false? If he were like
Bessie's husband?
Who could have stolen Arthur from
her? She is trying to think. Can it be
Ethel Goddard. or is it that little Mrs.
Warburton? She is suffocating, her
throat tightens, her lips are dry and
burning. The light of the lamp vacil-
lates. The old tapestries are of a sud-
den clearly shown, then fall again into
shadow. The chairs brighten here and
there by CLEANS that fall OH the gliding
Of their frames, seem to move queerly
around Helen, whose brain is reeling.
She is frightened at herself, for while
thinking Of rival, she feels herself nc
longer a responsible being, capable even
of a crime.
1t is thus, then, that one becomes Grim
inal through excessive suffering. But is
she crazy? What proves that Arthur is
false? She cannot live with such a
doubt. She must know and will know.
Why not consult the clairvoyant?
She rises, supports herself by the fur
nil S&rvNo ~