The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1903-01-15
CHAPTER NJ.

spring-like days; the fcathered lovers were
already serenadng their ladies'; primroses
and crocuses were sprnging to meet the
first smile of their god. And June was
decidedly growing less wan and white,
her step was more elastic. Grief was still
her master passion; but, already, Time
was doing for her what he does for the
young. and indeed for the old, too, only
more slowly. And Tom had bravely aided
Time.
SHOULD you be very angry if l were to
say something to yOuT he asked June
one day.
mo" answers June, placidly with
tolera bly, good intuition of his meaning.
Il have been afraid to say word yet"
he utters. still much perturbed in his
mind. "But-but-oh. my darling, will
you some day come and live here for good
and all?-do you care enough for me to
marry me"
June does not answer in words, but she
gives little pressure to the hand which
holds hers.
After that what could any man do
under the circumstances, especially a man
madly in love, but snatch his darling to
his breast and cover her face with kisses?
June trembles violently; this time it is not
from horror or disgust, but because the
sudden remembrance of Dallas kiss
smites her, and with it the awful neces-
sity of confessing her shame to Tom. In
a moment she tears herself from his arms,
and, starting up, rushes over to the fire
place. He dares not pursue her; already
he is accusing himself of indelicacy to
her grief; the moment of delight is being
punished by remorse-too frequent Sc
quence!
At last. making a tremendous effort
over herself, June goes back to the sofa
and sits down at little distance from
him.
II have something to tell YOU" she says
in trembling voice. "No, do not come
near me. do not touch me, until you have
heard it; perhaps, afterward, you will not
want to-
A feeling of stupefaction comes over
Tom. What can she mean?
Then June turns her face from him and
begins to cry piteously.
"Oh," she sobs, chow can I-how can
l tell your
What do you mean?' cries Tom, at
his wits end unable to believe a breath
against her, but unutterably panied and
mystihed by her words and her agitation
ADO you remember" she says at lest,
"when-when your cousin was here in
the summer?'
Dial! What is this? Tom feels liter
ally turning to stone. He cannot speak
You went away for day or two, and
and | saw good deal of him, and |
fancied"-oh, poor, poor June, the agony
of this confession-"that | was in love
with him and he with me. and'-suddenly
checking herself. and speaking in strain
eed, unnatural voice-"he kissed me-"
Tom is dumb; if any one had plunged
the knife up to the hilt in his heart, he
does not think the agony could be dead
lier. Juno. this model Of purity, on whose
spotlessress he world have staked his
soul, kissed by Dallas.
She has buried her face in the sofa
cushions and is waiting with a beating
heart for Toms answer. There is huge,
long silence, and then voice, distorted
out of all likeness to Toms, says:
"And-you-let him.
Silence. utter silence.
1t is enough. She does not deny it.
And, after giving her IA full minute in
which to reply he gets up and walks
away, and June hears the door close upon
him.
She has lost him, lost the truest, BRAY
est, kindest heart that ever beat. She is
quite sure now that she loves him, that
she would joyfuly have been his wife,
that she has lost the chance of immense
happiness, and that blank, lonely life
spreads itself out before her.
She trembles at the bare thought of
meeting him again. How will she look
him in the face after this?
Mrs. Ellesmere is not surprised at din
ner to remark that June's eyes are red
from cryins-that is not an infrequent
event-but she is surprised. very much
surprised at the change in Toms man
ner toward his beloved one. The ex-
IRENE tenderness which has characterized
ii ever since June became an inmate of
the Hall is gone, and is replaced by
careful and studied politeness. Toms
mother hopes and believes that June has
been refusing to give him any definite
hope or 10 discuss the subject OF mar
riage. The change in Toms manner has
in one way n beneficial effect on June;
II makes her angry. She feels that he
is unjust, and she resents injustice more
than anything else in the world She has
told him this shameful secret of her own
free will. He is welcome to give her up
if he chooses, but he has no right 10 treat
her in a way to arouse the suspicions of
others. June's conscience being guilty
she fancies that the impression his be-
havior may give is that il is he not she
who has broken the tie between them
but poor Tom has no idea of giving her