The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1906-10-30

anu closluS the small drawers, one Dy
one. He was searching for a photo.
graph that she had kept on her desk
"a likeness taken in her early girl
hood, long before he had met her.
AS he felt clumsily about among
the papers a letter fell out He start
ed to replace it, but caught sight of
his own name in the familiar writing
and paused. He opened it with trem-
bling fingers.
Il did the best / could" he said,
slowly to himself. Il couldn't help
not caring. l thought l could-at
first. / thought it would come with
time. God! how hard it has been,
how bitter hardi" He passed his thin,
nervous hand YEARLY across his col
orless face. AT least, she never
knew, never suspected, nor cared,
either way" he said, bitterly. "She
was as Indifferent as-as / was"
Il wonder if she knows now" he
breathed Il wonder if she knows
and understands. She never seemed
to understand anything. / used to
wonder how anyone could feel so lit
tie and live. 1 tried once to tell her
how | felt and she laughed. Said
needed something to tone me up.
Perhaps she was right. Perhaps l
am morbid chap.
IF she had cared" he began again,
Il would have tried to be different
l should have learned to get hold of
her interest in some way, but that
dead calm of hersi l used to think
1t would drive me crazy. She was
the right sort, too-or seemed to be.
With her possibilities she might have
developed into a wonderful woman
under the right conditions. She is
wonderful-she was" he corrected
himself, shuddering at the correction.
Il admired her more than any other
woman l ever met Poor Heleni"
he sighed as he pored over the letter
in the failing light.
He sat up, startled Hurried to
the window, reading eagerly with a
look of intense interest on his rather
apathetic face-a look such as Helen
Atherton had never reused in all her
sadly inconsequent life with him.
Dear" he read, 81 couldn't hope
ever to make you understand how l
love you. You have just left me
cold, unloving, careless, as you always
are-and 1 (poor foolish, loving thing)
put my starved arms about your chair
and laid my lips passionately against
the spot where your dear head has
lain. l know it is utterly unrecipro-
Gated, that shall never be more to
you than l am now, and though it
breaks my heart with it's desolation,
its utter despair, yet bow to it.
Dearest, no man was ever loved more
deeply, more tenderly, than you are.
o, the sadness, the heartbreak of it
all!
You thought at first you cared. II
| you had been sure, then-ah, if you
had only known then-and told me
Now it is too late. l am wrapped in
never-ending regret that will be
my portion to the end of time
can't ease the hurt OF loving unloved
Il want you to know if you are left
and you will be-that l have always
cared. 1 used to hope for the day
1
gladness at my coming. have
learned to welcome even the weau
ness of spirit they express If only ]
may feel you near me.
Dear, 1 know how it is with you
know that the bonds have become
so irksome that they have worn into
your very soul. l see the distaste
1 l,n SeIs oil ,v{
sesses you at times. l see it all, YET
l am powerless to release you. car
only hide it all securely away under
the slow smile, the smile that you
call my everyday face.
IF you had cared, John, we should
have been very happy. l love your
work, your interests, but have moi
dared voice it for fear-O that look
that cruelty Indifferent, hard, careless
look! 1t burns into me as 1 write
and writhe under the torture of it."
He sat with his head on his arms
for hours. Once he cried out in
agony: MY God, if l had known
If / had known!"
At last he climbed the heavy, darl
stairway to the room above to face
his dead. He turned back the white
coverlid with hands strangely steady
after his long vigil
Her face was oddly girlish as il
was in the little photo. He felt vas
tenderness yelling up within him as
he looked. A rush of feeling that
flooded him with longing, longing fol
h~r smile, for her clear-eyed look, fol
the spirit of her, brave and indomita
BILE as it had ever been. At last he
knew the truth. He could see the
soul back of the silence-back of hel
apathetic gentleness of demeanor thai
had shamed his churlish outbreaks Of
irritability. oh, to tell her! to lei
her know how he admired her self
control. her wonderful soldier hear
that could force her TO smile calmly
though her life's blood was oozine
away, drop by drop.
Oh. to tell her that he might have
cared; that she was his hearts owl
after all, though he had not know
it-he had not known her.
oIf I eouId fell her lust once anf