The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-05-06
I'll.

I'll.
It was lark in the little reception room
30 dark that the two forms sitting closely
together on the window bench could scarcely
be seen by one secreted behind the japanese
screen in the corner yet 80 still that their
faintest whispers could be heard.
is II really 90, Beatrice?' asked the man
Els there nc hope Of his ~recoveryf'
The doctors say he will never regain
consciousness" gasped the woman. God
forgive me for being glad"
But, Beatrice, think what 1t means to
us--he IL old, shattered, has lived his life,
But we, with youth, health, capacity for en-.
joyment, the boundless wealth that awaits
in England in exchange for the formula
above all, with each other-we Will be
divinities, owning, controlling the earth
1T may be 30, sighed Mrs. Cuyler. But
at what a ccst-the impovenshing Of my
kindred, the running Of our family name.
Sometimes, | feel as If I would
Beatrice. Beatrice, remember the alter
native; either a l~oveless future for us both,
or the drag Of hopeless poverty
1T is good Of you, dear sighed Mrs.
Cuyler, ito include yourself in the ban
placed on me. Most men l know would
console themselves. But, yet, II you hadn't
beer 80 indiscreet; IL you hadn't reused
poor fathers suspicious, anger
If I hadn't loved, say, for that explains
my madness. All, Beatrice when risked
dishonor for your dear sake-when for
got the obligations Of my race, ought you
not to forget when you yourself were the
resistless temptation"
1T is fate, Harold; l see it, l admit 1t;
we were swept together, we are swept along
by a higher law. I will no longer resist.
Why, indeed, should II Did I not, too,
sacrifice principle"
That is the girl Of my heart. that is my
mate, selected from the boundless uni
verse;" cried the Captain, with an exul-
tant ring in his voice You surely have
1t, Beatrice. the sealed envelope-the for
mula9"
1T has never left me since the night
after your fight, a year ago, when, having
overheard what father said in his rage, I
ooh it from his pocket case, substituting
the one that he enclosed in his will the next
day"
you have it here. now, close to your
faithful hearty Oh, don't you think you
should entrust 1t to me, to defend with my
strength, my life"
Against whom, pray. since no one
dreams--"
you are right. you are always right;
bit, still, 1t might be the part Of prudence
for me to examine it, to make a copy Of it.
I know your sweet, sensitive soul has kept
you from breaking the seals"
my sensitive soul warns NE
"Ah, now you doubt. Don't you know
that perfect love casteth out fearf Can't
you realize how mans gross, impatient
nature yearns for something tangible, re-
fuses to accept happiness until the very
evidence Of 1t is before him? Can't you see
that my motive in desiring to possess the
packet, II only for a moment, is to fortiiy,
encourage, the endless hours Of waiting
"Is it really 80, Harold? "breathed Beatrice.
Am so precious to you that you need
greater proof than my own assurances in
word and deed? All, foolish boy, wait
Just a moment There was a rustic as Mrs.
moved away a little. There; now
are you satisfied? Why don't you speak9"
Where is it?" There was sudden fear In
Maline's voice.
Il just handed it to you; you took 1t from
'You did not; I did not"
Harold Maline, don't you dare. I'll not
such brazen deception. ! gave IL
to you, I say!'
$50 help me God, Beatrice, l never got it!
There is something wrong here"
Something wrong repeated the woman
in a scream. AYE, that there is, UNANIMOUSLY
wrong, deadly wrong Help, help, George,
Hilda, Bings, Adele, mamma! There's a
thief in the house! Help, help!'
Curse you" growled Maline, "for a
hysterical cat And then, as there were
hurrying steps on the fool above, on the
stairs, dra wing near; as a light flashed In
the hallway, he dashed through the window
and disappeared in the outer darkness.
Entered then Bings, the butler, deliberate,
composed: making the lights and adjusting
the shades, in utter oblivion Of Mrs. Cuyler,
as she poised like another Niobe, her black
eyes ~straining, her white face lined and
contorted, her hands olasped oonvulsively
over her wildly heaving bosom.
Quickly following came George Max
well and his pretty little sister, Hilda;
Adele, the maid, in the van OF the servants,
and last and least a withered old lady, who
spoke not at all and whom no one noticed.
what Is the matter, Beatrioei' 'oh,
dear sister, speak, 'Ah, Madame, so
highly wrought, Is it that she is mdldde,'
Mercy, we might all be kilt were the oon-
fused cries.
Mrs. Cuyler I'VE M long sigh, and then
her thin lips shut like q wise.
Unjust have fallen s'l'oD'' she explained