The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1904-06-01

proach the subject.
"Only since yesterday" '
"And you remain some time?"
81 am leaving today-for France"
At that a touch of color left her In oe,
or was it that a darkening shadow fell
upon the house and garden, momenta-
rily Christening the outlook?
For FranceT she repeated.
Her lips quivered. Something seemed
to still the beating of his heart.
"COnstance-what is itT he half
whispered.
She stepped forward suddenly, her
hands outstretched.
81 wronged your she cried. 81
wronged you l thought the disgrace
was yours! Oh, do not speak, she
added passionately. Il have suffered
for it-and now, would you mind
please-leaving mer'
"YOu thought the disgrace was miner
he repeated slowly. mot my He
broke of abruptly. "And you suffered
for itY' he said wonderingly. "Then
you He arose quickly and APP
preached her, a new expression trans
figuring his bronzed and worn young
face.
Swiftly he sought her glance. Her
eyes gave irrefutable answer. Unre-
sistingly she abandoned herself to his
arms. and he felt her bosom rise and
fall with conflicting emotions. Closely
he held her in the surprise and sur
passing pleasure of the moment; then,
bending, he kissed her lips. A wave
of color flooded her face. though her
eyes still sought his. But even as he
regarded her the clear, open look grad
ually changed. replaced by one of half
perpleXity. half reproach.
THAT night you went away-why
did you not defend yourself?" she ask
ed finally.
Il never imagined any mistake. Be
sides, what had to offer? Your future
was bright, your name on every ones
lips"
Did you think you were responsible
for your brothers sinsT
His dark features clouded.
Il suppose | had become accustomed
to cold looks; in Africa, 10y some of
my comrades who had an inkling Of
the story. No matter what I'D. l wts
his brother and the bittereSt part was
that | loved him, loved him from my
boyhOod. He was the handsomest,
most joyous fellow. Even when he
died in my arms in Mexico my heart
could not absolutely turn from him"
She opened her lips as if to speak.
but the shadow on his face kept her
silent
Il was weak enough to keep the sto-
ry from you in the first place, a foolish
reticence, for these matters follow a
man to the ends of the world"
oh" she said, ito think it was
who made you feel this"
He took her hand. His grasp hurt
her fingers, yet she did not shrink.
"You showed me new world" he
answered quickly. mot the world |
expected to find, where life would hold
little of joy or Zest, but magical
world, a beautiful world. yours!'
She half hung her head. But then
then
ut became a memory, bitter sweet,
yet more sweet than bitterl"
"And now?'
He did not answer Immediately.
The figure of the count, as he had
seen him the night before, bad abrupt
ly entered his mind. Did she under
stand? She smiled.
And nowr
At her question he dismissed all
thought of Jealousy. Looking into her
clear, half laughing eyes. he read of no
entangling alliances. Without words
from her he understood.
shall we go into the GARDEN" she
said. and, opening the window, they
stepped out upon the veranda.
In the sky a single large cloud
stretched itself in dreamy torpor, too
sluggish apparently to move, while a
brood Of little clouds nestled and slept
around it, From the window the
counts ally watched them among the
plants and vines, pausing now aud
then, their interest more in themselves
than in the lNeliest hues or forms
that nature offered. He stood still, re-
garding his shadow on the path seri-
eusIy.
Nearly noon by the soldiers dial"
be said.
She pushed back the hair the wind
had blown about her brow.
my boat sails in an hour" he con-
tinued.
'But-you are going-nowT
IF I stay, 1t must be-
Forever she said. Forever
THE END.