The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1903-01-03

1
| blond curls looked woefully artificial
| in the bright December sunlight; you
| have made her love you! A woman
| of her temperament can never forgive
| that
Il can't believe it," announced Blood
| good coldly. His hands were trembling,
| nevertheless, and his face had gone
| ashen white.
| You will believe it-youe shall he
| lieve it," declared the widow stoutly.
TIN a woman, l suppose of flee ideas
| oh, don't put up your hand, BERTHE
= know some of the fellows say it in
| the clubs, though you're far too much
of a gentleman for that. 1 can do
| as please-and I do as please. Why
| Because / so heartily scorn the society
| that would as heartily scorn me-if
had no money. / like to trick and be-
fool and befuddle society, because I
| recognize society, so-called, for the
| CHASTITY Sam that it is. What's So
ciety? Money, dear boy; nothing in
the world but money, and the ability
| to spend it with discrimination and
tact.
II have my own heartache, which
| is nobody's affair but mine. The one
! man l ever loved inztfle woodland a
| woman can only love that way, once,
! Bertie-was-well, he wasn't worth it,
The speakers eyes, which were nearly
| always merry, became moist and lumi-
nous. But tell. you, BERTHE, that the
/ love of that glorious girl, iron-hearted
! though she be, is the dearest and ten
| dereSt treasure that has ever come to
me in my life Wouldn't the world
laugh if it knew it, Bertie?"
The widow was really looking-re-
markedly pretty. now. Her eyes were
| almost merry again.
Bloodgood, perhaps for. the first time
| in his life, was selfish.
| h. \ 4AIx
but with perfect self possession, Il
| care nothing for your sorrows beside
! hers. We all live in the same world
of pitiful counterfeit, a sham. N wasn't
counterfeit or sham with you, Clausie,
! and you must be fair with me. Tell
! me why Floralinea loves me. You have
said she does. Then tell me why she
| hates me. Her hate she has shown me
! herself
! Mrs. Clausie Reynolds sat erect in
| her chair. Her figure, always viewed
with covetous eyes by most men, had
never ever appeared to better. advantage:
she loves you she said slowly,
| the direction 81. her quarry, because
you are you and she CAN'T help it. She
| hates you-be brave, BERTHE! because
your brother betrayed her sister,"
Mr.. Ethelbert Bloodgood. came to his
feet slowly, like man troubled with a
! mortal complaint - He drew himself to-
| gether with a palpable effort AS he
! stopped to touch his fips-te- the hand
of his hostess~in farewell his attitude
and manner were the perfection of
| high bred courtesy.
In the steeple of a church near by
holiday bells were Ginning.
Il have come" said Mr.. Ethelbert
Bloodgood, Very gently, ito wish you a
very merry Christmas
Miss Floraline Vanaster yawned ever
so slightly.
THAT is such a conventional phrase"
| she eXpoStulated.
Most women would have thought it
| strange she should speak so. The man
! looked so big and strong and real, and
withal so splendidly fashioned, and so
scrupulously groomed. Even Miss VAN
aster, cynic and man-hater though she
might be, caught herself approving the
| faultlesS fit of his coat and the Sus-
! p1cion of muscle that persisted in
| showing itself at the shoulders. The
| twilight of perfect Christmas after
noon-clear, cold and frosty-was dim
| ming the window panes. Bloodgood's
face looked as near holy as a mans
| face can. 1t seemed to be lit with a
purpose.
Miss Vanaster folded her hands with
a gesture of resignation.
You amuse me this morning. she
condescended to admit, you look so
| conceited and satisfied" Then she
| added, PLAY for me, piease.''
! BloodgOod, with his other frailties,
| had a weakness for music. For an
| amateur he played very WE'LL though
! some of his improvisations would not
| have won the approval of experts. He
! obeyed the lady's behest with docility,
| and launched into a melange as weird
RI
| fascinating. He had a superb instru-
ment and the surroundings were to his
| liking-a luxurious apartment, every
nook and corner Of which bespoke the
| apex of delicacy and refinement-and
| the woman of his heart to listen. I'm
| der that inspiration it was not strange
that he should surpass his own mod
| crate talent.
He began with a succession of mel
! low chords in E fiat major, rippled into
| some fanciful waltz melodies Of VALID
! teufel and Lanner, drifted from thence
into suspicion of deviltry from Often
! bach; thence into a few vagrant bars
| of the Coronation march from Meyer
| beers Prophet, and from that into
| the noble strains of Adams "Cantique
| de Noel" So profound and deep was
his inspiration at this time that he
actually began to sing, and he had a
| passable baritone, too:
| He it was who taught us
| TO love one another;
His word is law,
| His gospel Is peace.
Chains shall he break. 1919
| The slave is our brother
| And at his word
| All oppression shall cease.
| Fall on your kneesi
| Now hear the angel voices!
| Oh. night divine!
Oh. night when Christ was born
Even as he played and sang the let
ter came. He was so. occupied that he
! did not even notice the entrance of the
maid who brought the packet.
Miss Vanaster opened the envelope
! with langour and nonchalance. She had
not read three lines before her figure
became tense and rigid. This was the
] letter: SIS
Sister, darling-if you will still let
me call you so. You are proud, know,
and you have rightfully cast me out of
| your heart because disgraced you.
| Still send you this greeting on Christ
| mas morning because you may not
have quite forgotten the little sister
| who loved you SO when we played to-
gether as children and who is now a
good woman-thanks be, dear sister,
to a real man.
/ He found me, no matter how, no
| matter where. / will never tell, and
l am sure he will not. And he did all
| this for me before he knew who / was
or before he knew the wrong his dead
Irr4 I<nR 1lr,. u