Middletown transcript., 1906-02-03

very first. She wondered if il
were not bis blindness alone that
appealed to her aud if she would
! not have been quite Indifferent
tolhim If he had had his sight
like the other men.
But his conversation was al
ways full Of interest. His ten
years experience in the West;
, his struggles, his successes, his
defeats -he told her all--With an
e tger and almost boyish conf
dence. He made no secret of his
admiration for her, and the def
erance and reverence he showed
her seemed something strangely
beautiful.
| Her father liked him, too. He
said: Gordon's a fine fellow, and
so hopeful. 1t will be a hard
blow to him if he shouldn't re
cover his sight.
Finally there came IL pause.
Ten days, two weeks passed by,
during which fine Gordon had
not been to see her and had made
no sign.
She could not bring herself to
write to him, to have even a letter
of mere friendly inquiry read
aloud to him by that man Brown.
She was too proud to write for
news of him to Jack. And it so
chanced that during all that time
she saw no one of whom she
could inquire.
At last one night, when she
was sitting quite alone, he came.
She looked up, flushing at lis ap-
proach, ard his changed fitce
startled her.
You have been ill? she cried. |
Not i'll in body, he answered |
gloomily, but i'll in mind. They |
have rendered their verdict
perpetual darkness-and I'm off |
again to the West. | tried to go
without seeing you-but | AIN a
coward! | have come now to say
goodbye
There was a conflict, of wild
emotions in Mary Agnew's breast
For a moment she could not
speak. He had come to say good
bye!
I said I couldn't go without
seeing you, he repeated, and I've
come to ask a blind mans last
favor before go, may I pass
my hand over your face?
What if I say no? There was
something strained and unnat-
ural in her tone.
Don't refuse me! You don't
know what that would mean! he
cried. Can you realize that all
this time you have been but a
beautiful unseen spirit to me-a
heavenly voice? | thought I
should see you some day with
my eyes and l forced myself to
wait-but that is not to be-and
you won't refuse to let me carry I
away your true image into the
night of my exile?
I am not beautiful, she said. I
have told you that before. And
if in spite of that you have de-
ceived yourself-why need you $
undeceire yourself now? And
why need you go into 'exile'?
You led. us to believe that you
would stay among us-why are ,
you going back to the West? :
Because am a coward, he :
miserably-
| don't understand, she said.
However, since you seem to wish G
to dispel your illusion about me /
perhaps it is better so.
She took his hand and placed it ..
upon her face, but at it's touch !.
the sell. control for which she had :
been struggling gave way; hot t
tears welled up against her will t
and fell in burning drops upon !.
his hand. !
Mary-Miss Agnew! Tears +
they are not for-me? a
No, she cried passionately, they 4
are for myself, for thought you .
priced friendship-iust q !.
little; and it was "a shock to /
ind that you could say good bye ?
so lightly when after such YER Z
SO slight a thing as a 9
Woman's friendship might have J
been something to you.
Oh, you do not understand, he
said quickly. It is harder than b
leath to part from you like this! G
Since the first night | met you q
ny only thought and hope has !,
been to recover my sight, that I !.
night see you and win your love a
ind ask you to be my wife. That c.
vas my vision of heaven, and Q
7ou-its angel; and I never : :