The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1905-06-04

F0shed.
conscience tells me I should; but ]
can't, and II makes me very unhappy.
That was why acted 90 badly"
"Your consciencev' he cried.
"oh, know what tumble and pug
Gle 1t must seem to your
~ only know one thing-that you are
going away tomorrow morning and
that shall never see you again"
The darkness had grown intense.
They could not see each other, but a
wan glimmer gave him tieeting, misty
view OF her. She stood half turned
from him. her hand TO her cheek In
the uncertain fashion Of his great mo-
ment In the afternoon. Her eyes, he
saw In the flying picture that he
caught, were troubled, and her hand
trembled. She had been irresistible in
her gayety. but now that mysterious
distress assailed her. Of the reason for
which he had no guess, she was 30
adorably pathetic and seemed such
rich and lovely and sad and happy
thing TO have come into his life only to
70 out Of Il, and he was 50 full Of the
prophetic sense of loss Of her, It seemed
20 much like losing everything. that he
found too much to say to be able to
say anything.
He tried to speak and choked little
A big drop Of rain fell on his bare
head. Neither OF them Noticed the
weather or cared for it They stood
with the renewed Seckness hanging
like a drapery betweet iheiii,
''Can-can you-tell me Why tUu
think you ought not to goT' be whis-
pered finally with q great effort.
mo; not now. But know you
would think l am right In wanting to
stay. l know you would II you knew
about 1t; but l can't can't / must
90 in the morning"
Il should always think you right"
be answered in an unsteady tone. "al-
ways" He went over to the bench,
fumbled about for his hat and picked
1t up.
Come" he said gently, II am going
now"
She stood quite motlonless for full
minute or longer; then. without word,
she moved toward the house. He went
to her. with hands extended TO find her,
and his fingers touched her sleeve
Together and silently they found the
garden path and followed its dim
length. In the orchard he touched her
sleeve again and led the way.
As they came out behind the house
she detained him. Stopping short, she
shook his hand from her arm. She
spoke in Il breath, as If 1t were all one
word.
"Will you tell me why you go? 1t is
not late. Why do you wish to leave
me. when shall not see you againp
The Lord be good to mer' he broke
out. all his long pent passion of dreams
rushing to his lips as the barrier fell
Don't you see IL is because l can't
bear to let you go? | hoped to get
away without saying 1t. l want to be
alone. / want to be with myself and
try to realize things. didn't want to
make babbling idiot of myself, but !
am. Ii is because | don't want another
second of your sweetness to leave an
added pain when you've gone. 1t Is
because | don't want TO hear your voice
again, to have il haunt me In the lone
llness you will leave. But It's useless
useless. shall hear 1t always, just as
[ shall always see your face, just as
have heard your voice and seen your
face these seven years, ever since /
irst saw you. n child, at Winter Har-
lor. | forgot for awhile. | thought Ii
was a girl | had made up out Of my
,wn heart, but Il was you all the time
rhe impression | thought nothing OF
hen; Just the merest touch on my
leart, light as 1t was, grew and grew
leeper till 1t was there forever You've
inowu me twenty four hours, and !