Orange County observer. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1880-1918, 1903-11-05

holding me down. They are trying to
bury mev
| There was a table by the bedside.
| oh the table was half-burned candle
ana photograph propped against an
empty coffee cup-a photograph of
! woman. MY friend reached for it,
gave 1t one look, then quietly put it
back, face downward, on the table.
Observation-Disclosures the
spade struck rockr
| Fever, said the doctor; extreme
mental tension; outlook tedious-prob-
ably fatal
'"rhe next morning the man was
rational, but in his rational moments
as we'll as in his delirium he talked
always of Constance. He said that ha
was an American architect, and in his
haste to get home and marry the
woman he loved he had oyerworked
| himself in the intense heat Of Italy.
They were not engaged: she knew that
il she engaged herself to him he would
never have strength to leave her. But
she had promised to wait for him.
promised to listen to his love when he
! S,Ol DdCh.
! Sitting by the architects bedside,
my friend wrote to Constance. 1t was
a short letter and to the point. The
next steamer brought her reply. She
| was distressed to learn Of the archi-
tect's illness. She cared for him, be-
lieved in him, was interested in his
! work: but she did not love him. She
had never listened to his love for her
! and only once had she given him a
| gleam of hope. 1t was when he came
to say good-by. Partly to silence him,
partly because her heart was filed
| with an infinite pity for him, she had
promised to listen when he came home
| What the letter lacked i'll honesty it
made up in clevernesS.'
II Think" said the woman ut his
! side. that I understand Constance"
The day my friend got the letter
he buried the architect in the English
cemetery at Rome. On his breast was
the photograph of the woman who had
lied to him. He died trusting Con-
| stance. After that my friend found
that life. when robbed Of its giamor,
is ugly business. All the old faiths
were kOne. the plans and Dreams
He broke off abruptly and there was
silence save for the music of the wa
ters. When he continued, softer
note had crept into his voice.
"At last second woman came into
his life. bringing with her hope and
happiness. Then he found that the
boys love is not the mans love; that
there is love stronger, deeper. pro
| founder
Does the second woman love-your
frienG:''
Yes he answered. looking steadily
into her eyes. his own shining. ''He
would stake his soul on her love. When
she becomes his wife,
But Constance? Surely your hon
orablc friend answered her letter?'
He looked up with frow:l, but
smiled as he caught her eyes full OF
eager interest.
He sent her some drawings the ar
chitect had requested to be sent, and 4
paper announcing his death"
The hand holding the parasol trcm-
bled.
''Xour friend was engaged to marry
Constance Did she release him:'
Her eyes wandered to where chile
i'll I dirty pinafore was playing in the
hot. white sand. 'Diggin' frou tC
China" the tot had told her, as she
passed, and she. pulling one of the
brown curls. had laughed at him. Now
she watched the tiny spade just as il
her life's happiness depended upol
the success Of the undertaking.
After a while the man spoke. 'Tht
. architect, lying dead in Rome will
her picture under his clasped arms
that was my friends release" He
| WINGED q little under her eyes, and con
tinued: when he found that this new
! love had come into his life, he wrote
l Il letter 70 Constance, but the lette1
seemed useless and it was neve
| mailed. It-s]lall be sent at once.''
He had ended lamely and he knew
> it. Something in the attitude of th'
, woman gave him a grim, realizing
sense that he had played a pitiful part
: '"Tell your friend not to send tha
Il letter The second woman will neve
!, ), marry him.
Edith he cried sharply. "Edith!'
She had risenFand was slowly draw
: ing on her long gloves.
"Tell your friend to go back to tn
. woman who is waiting for him&th
woman to whom he be1ongsr'
: Edith! do you know what you ar
& doingT'
= Il? Oh. am sicply living up to
II woman's code of honorr' She smile
Il down into his white face. ''Tell hiI
that this is my case in point. Louis
Blake, the Observation-Disclosures.
q ~e''
- The Caddy's Reply.
: Unlike his nephew, Lord Salisbur
> was never q great golf player, althOug