Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1904-03-03

8 When you are q great artist" sa
s Beatrice indulgently.
: He nodded.
' Eyes. l mean to be that. And no
for my news. I'm going away to-mo
: row. I've had telegram from father
: He drew II from an inner pocket an
hourished II at her.
Game to-day. am to join him Q
once. He Is in Rome-think Of It'll
Rome! / am to begin my art studio
there. And leave tomorrow"
"Tm glad-and I'm sorry-and 20
know which is which," said Beatrice
patting his shaggy brown head.
shall miss you dreadfully. Stephen"
I'VE have been splendid chumi
haven't WEI" he asked, eagerly.
| Suddenly his face changed. He crep
nearer her and bowed his head unit
his forehead almost touched the hen
Of her dress.
I'm glad you came here to-day" HI
said, in low voice. Il want to tel
you something, and can tell 1t better
here. l couldn't go away without
thanking you. I'll make mess Of it
| never can explain things. But you've
been SO much to me--you mean SO
much to me. You've made me believe
in things never believed In before.
know now that there is such a thing as
good woman-a woman who could
make a man better Just because he
breathed the same air with her."
He paused moment, and then went
on in still lower tone:
"It's hard when a fellow can't speak
Of his mother because he can't say any
thing good of her, isn't 1t? My mother
wasn't a good woman. When was
eight years old she went away with a
scoundrel. Nobody thought under
stood-I was such a little chap. But |
did, heard them talking-I knew she
had brought shame on herself and us
And l loved her SO! Then. somehow,
as grew up 1t was my misfortune that
all the women around me were mean
and base. They were hirelings and I
hated and feared them. AS for father
he and | loved each other and were
good chums-but he didn't believe In
much. He was bitter, you know. He
said that all women were alike, and |
grew up with that belief. | didn't care
much for anything-nothing seemed
worth while. Then l came here and
met you"
He paused again. Beatrice had lis
tened with gray look on her face. 1t
would have startled him had he
glanced up; but he did not, and pres
entity the hating, emotional, boyish
1oice went on:
"You have changed everything for
ne. was nothing but clod before.
You are not the mother of my body, but
ou are of my soul 1t was born of you.
shall always love and reverence YOU
or 1t. You will always be my ideal. II
ever do anything worth while 1t will
e because Of you. And henceforth !
hall reverence all women for your
AXE, dear lady"
"And IT," said Beatrice, in q voice
hat did not sound like her own, III !
yere false to your ideal Of me-if
ERE to do something that would de-
roy your faith in me-something
eak or wicked"
But you couldn't" he interrupted
You Couldn't"
"But II I could" she persisted gen.
y, "and II l did-rwhat them"
II would hate you," he answered
you would be worse
IAN murderess. You would kill every =
nod impulse and belief in me. would q
,ver trust anything or anybody y
rain. But them" he added, his voice 9 9
owing tender again, you never will !,
IL mel feel sure Of that" ?
Thank you," said Beatrice gently. !
lie stood up and held out her hand. y y !,
ink l must 60 now. Good-by, dear :,
ddie. Write to me often. l shall al :,
Ayb VIC 6luu W uSdh ALUM JOu' %AAo | "
ID l will try to live up to your ideal !, y
me, Stephen" ~
He sprang to his feet and took her
nd, lifting 1t reverently to his lips Ell
II know you will: Good-by, my sweet 81
iy." a
When Mrs. Longworth found herself Y
her own room again she unlocked CT
r desk and took out the letter she ri
d written that morning. 1t was ad- al
essed to a Mr.. Maurice Cunningham. ri
g tore it twice across, laid the frag-
,nts on tray and touched lighted M
itch to them. Az they blazed up ia
FAINT yes" came out in writhing red W
IS across one of them. te
Then It crumbled into gray ashes r.
e drew a long breath and dropped
+ face in her hands. ce