The Cook County herald., 1902-05-24

cracked between her fingers. Her first
check. Ambition leaped up wildly.
Poor Donician! Alas, for the doves of
Aphrodite.
Poor Donician? He sat on a saw
log in the moonlight wrapped in a
dream as warm as heaven. His breath
came unsteadily, deep-chested, and
quivering. His fingers still felt the
touch of hers. His ears still throbbed
to that unconsciously caressing thank
YOU He had forgotten it's civil repe-
tition. Poor Donician! He knew moth
ing of that strongseated ambition
that had ridden unceremoniously over
the pleasant things of her life. Moth
ing Of that bit of crisp paper with a
few figures in one corner. Had he
seen it, he would not have under
stood; yet it was the death warrant,
signed and sealed, for his happiness.
Why should he suspect the existence
Of such things? To him the 'fair-faced
young teacher was as dainty wild
flower, half open in the early dew
He sat on in his warm dream of heav.
en-born happiness, joying in the re-
sistless might of his strong hearted
love- -,
Helen Nord was right. In these la
ter days eagles are frequently sacri-
feed upon the affairs of Aphrodite.
The next evening when she carried
her ambition out in the forest that it
might soar bold and unrestrained as
the breath OF the pines, Helen saw him
coming toward her over the soundless
needles. Strong and happy hearted he
swung along, bearing the beauty of a
Greek god upon his brow. A strange,
reeling fear seized upon the woman's
heart She sat down weak, inert. upon a
fallen trunk and stared miserably at
tine dead straws.
Donician came on swiftly He barred
his head as he sat down beside her.
ANY mail for me to-day?" she ques-
toned. failing dismally in her effort
to appear uncorcerned.
'No,' he said softly. Had he kissed
her the caress could scarcely have
been more endearing.
|: Helen flung up her head desperate
1y. Her choice had come to her in
narrow lines, love or ambition. Aphro-
dite demanded a sacrifice. Should it
be dove or eagle? Alas, for the dove.
The ambition that had ridden rough
shod over all the pleasant things OF
life was not to be unseated by. it's poor.
plaintive pleading.
Donician spoke with manly sim
p1icity.
81 love you, Miss Helen. 'Tis right
you should know"
~Thank you," she muttered in
coherently. She was .plunging wildly
against the strain of stern asceticism
in her. blood. 1t seemed such a sense
less sacritice-two spot1ess doves for
one wild eagle. Then the old glamor
came again upon her eyes. She saw
herself as she would be-a proud.
free woman, working her way up into
the high white light.
She tried to make it easy for him.
we should not talk of such things.
you and l., M. .:Donician," she said,
looking beyond him lest she should
wv SAAc~C III LILO "OAoC1 u1 eyes Ludl
would haunt all her after days. It was
an unnecessary caution. He was not
the man to bare his wounds.
II love you, he said, with quiet in
sistence. II can make you happy"
"Yes," she returned, suddenly con-
scfous of extreme weariness. Eyes, I
know. But it must not be. IL have
other work to de-" "
Donician hesitated a. moment as
though unwilling to believe that his
glad dream was shattered. <*5..
when two people love one another
they belong to each other for all time"
Is it not sop he asked tenderly, and
his eyes compelled hers to meet them
in one brief, truth-telling glance.
mo, it is not SO, not always" she
stammered, hurriedly. ut must not:
>be!"s she started to her feet. but his
hand checked her flight. E. 3: 5$@.=-s 4 Il
IA wait" he said, ~ will go.'' !. ~ ~ =
$ She watched him move away. Far.
ther :, farther his upright, swift
moving figure glancing at rare and