The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1904-12-31
vhole self. if one means to succeed.

hoVered round her red, young lips.
She had skipped, as is youths way,
the hard and thorny path leading to
success, and in Imagination the goal
was already hers.
To the man watching her in silence,
there came an odd intuition, born, per-
haps, Of his Is years superiority. per-
haps of his great love, that some day
she would come back to him-some
day, when she had learned that the
best thing in life often lies nearest;
success, but love.
With a deep drawn sigh, sigh OF
infinite aspirations, she came back at
last from her dreamland.
Poor Hilaryn' she said softly.
ttWhy poor?" he questioned.
Because you have no vocation to
fill you life
but ! have" he objected.
She opened her eyes, her wonder
full eyes, whose color was as the
changing color of the seas.
My vocation is to love you"
.eThat is hardly VOCATION she
smiled.
1T is enough for me- he answered
quietly. "And, some day.
Some day." she echoed.
TT maye be enough for you, too"
She stirred uneasily, and again that
faint shadow fell across her face,
that vague trouble crept into her eyes.
1t was as though some dim Fremont
ton of the i'll awaiting her out yon-
der in the great world had come to
her. But she shook it off impatiently.
mo, no." she cried. Tt never will
be- Forget me, Hilary. Don't ever
think that. II want to live and to
do. I don't want to be just absorbed
absorbed by love and all the COM
monplaceness of every day things. {
want she stretched out her tinted
young arms towards the crimson tint
ed moors-sI want life
4.And life is love- he finished softly:
the best of life. that is"
mot for me-" she answered swiftly,
with all the self-suficiency Of youth.
Dear" he said, and his voice and
the words he spoke came back to her
afterwards across long years of ST
lence-afterwards, when she had
learned too late their truth, dear,
there is just one thing | would say to
you. Go, and all good go with you.
Live your own life, and win the success
that | know awaits you. Work your
hardest, and give your whole self, your
self that is so dear,'-a sudden tender
ness stole into the gravity of his
yoice-tto your vocation. But if eyer
it fails you, if ever time comes when
you realize that success and fame and
honor are not all, but only part Of
life, if you ever grow tired, and stretch
out these little hands for the gift you
care nothing for to-day, then remem-
Der, it is yours, my Iris-yours for all
time and eternity
Don't" she whispered unsteadily
20, Hilary, you-you make me afraid
afraid Of myself-of whether, after
all, have chosen the better part
Don't be afraid, little one. | think
you have not chosen at all yet. You
are too young to choose. You are on
ly experimenting.
And your
T shall wait until your experiment.
ing is over
do you-eare- so very much?" she
asked wistfully
He put hand under her chin, and,
lifting her face. looked down into her
troubled eyes.
TT will be many years, little girl,
think, before you understand how
much" he answered quietly.
She rose from her chair, and the
great man rose, too, and his eyes were
pitiful. For he had told her a hard
thing perhaps the hardest thing in
life, and, though she was facing it
with the courage and self-restraint
ten years of strenuous work had taught
her, vet he knew to her it spelled an
end more bitter than death. So his
grip On the daintily gloVed hand she
held out to him said much that his
lips left unsaid, since he was very hu-
man, in spite Of his greatness.
Thank you, DOCTOR she said, a lit
tie unsteadily.
Then she turned away, and a mo-
ment later she had crossed the sum
shiny pavement and stepped into the
waiting carriage.
Home, please" she said.
And. though her face was white her
voice was perfectly steady.
But, once there, she turned into the
little study, where she had known SO
much Of JOY, and, locking the door,
lived out her hour Of agony alone.
This, then, was to be the end, the
end Of all her dreams and ambitions,
this horrible thing that she hardly
dared TO name even to herself. IN
thought she went back over the years
that had begun with bitter poverty
and unceasing struggle, and ended.
She threw out her hands with a sud-
cen, bitter cry.
Blind, Blind! O, God, can't
bear it,"
And the fame. and the wealth, and
the things of this world that she had
gathered around her seemed suddenly
TO slip from her like cloak, and
leave her shivering in great. cold
1oneliness-a loneliness that sometimes
before had made itself felt, but that
she had always been able to throw off
or to call BY some other name. Now
she knew that she could never throw
it OF again, never call it by any other
name, that it was hers for all the long,