Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1904-07-02
CHAPTER VI.-(Continued,I
BY AMY MILLER.

r.-,rord. left alone, wondered at the
ING inconsistency of the woman who
ct zone away. She had treated
tap ;u he felt, beyond shadow of
III M {or she had taken his heart fer q
uTIg ING only TO toss it aside when she
Pc: +irAd of it. That, at least, had been
,:a rjaw of the matter, and so 1t would
L =, remained had he not crossed the
l~ 10 meet her again at the end OF
his long journey.
US Could she. ne began to conjecture, have
nod some motive for acting as she had
Io,,eq Was there an explanation of her
oor5,,rt which, if he only knew, would
-. reveal her moro true, more womanly,
tbeu she had appeared to him, even when
she was his promised wife?
Ne and Iyis met in AurioPs special
,,Drtum. and Auriol seemed dearer than
over as she sat by the easy-chair where
tbe Girl reclired. Wis looked very pale
orl fragile. and there were dark shadows
Inneath her violet eyes. Raymond won
her immediate trust and liking, while he,
when he left her, was even more anxious
.h.l before to find Jocelyn.
Wis. though Raymond, in reminding
her of ,Jocelyn, had made her heart ache
With renewed pain and sorrow, found
comfort in the knowledge that he was
at work upon the weary problem which
had tortured her so long, and her eyes,
even through their tears, had seen what
explained fully Laura's story.
She had accepted, with perfect conf
dpnce. Auriol's statement that she and
Jocelvn had been friends. but never
lovers; still, Wis had thought gossip's
tongue more busy than usual to have
reported an engagement without any
foundation. Now she understood that
Laura had only been in error as to the
gentlemans Christian name. She did
not, of course, hint at the subject to
Auriol but she wondered why she and
Ravmond had parted.
1t was balm to the girls wounded
spirit to have Auriol's sympathy in her
heavy trial. II was relief inexpressible
to be able to talk of the suspense and
agonizing fear she had borne so long in
silence and alone. She was glad to be
away from the careless chatter of the
girls in the dressing room, the glitter of
the stage, that had made her feel so
lonely in her grief and loss. She was Il
sweet, gentle woman, one of those meant
by nature to be wife and mother, and
Ivis could comprehend the impassioned
love with which Auriol regarded her.
She was out when Raymond called.
and it was not in the presence of Ivis
that Auriol told of his visit. A look,
That her daughter understood, came upon
the face, which had been early marked
by care, but now habitually wore an ex-
preston of tranquility.
Mother, dearest" Auriol said softly.
II know how much you liked him; |
know how sorry you were when we
parted; but-but don't hope it can ever
come right again-it never cant"
Kneehng beside her mothers chair, she
leaned the bright head she was wont to
carry so proudly against the loving
breast which had been her refuge in her
childish troubles. The elder woman
caressed her almost in silence.
But, now Raymond had come to Eng
land, she believed, in spite of Auriol's
words, that it would come right. They
loved each other. Raymond, even in her
partial eyes, was worthy of her daughter.
She had been spared one pain, much
as she was in Auriol's confidence, for she
thought Archibald Dimdyke was dead.
and the shadow he had cast upon them
lifted.