The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1907-08-25

well avenged. If l sinned. I have been
punished. My God, was ever man more
awfully punished? II you we're unloved,
INTENDED, nay child pinned in spite Of all
that love could Go. and then-when
thought I had drunk the cup to the last
dregs, that justice was satisfied al last,
and that my Isobel was given back to me
from the dead-then-then my sin rose
up before me in her very shape and form
oh, my God, the mOckeTy Of 1.-THE cru
city Of it
For the first time the distinction drawn
by the distracted father between her and
the other IsObel did not rouse her TO
passion Of revolt. Before her. above Lady
StormOnts writing table. hung a pastel
drawing of her daughter as child,
sweet. gentle, guileless face. a little fee
bic. perhaps. not so idealized as the Sar-
gent portrait
Where was she now? Was she alive or
dead? Like a sknife-thrust the question
went through the girls heart, absorbed
till now in the horror Of her own posi-
ton. She turned swiftly to Sir Devid.
Don't. don't she said. brOkenlr. IF
it matters at all whether I fOrgive-I-IH
try TO do Il: and it's not saying much.
for I don't see how I'm to 90 on living.
But if-if she were safe here with a
gesture toward the drawing, in my
place-in her own place. ] mean." hur-
riedly. I wouldn't care much what hap
epned to me"
Then after a pause, while Sir David was
struggling to get hold of himself again.
TO pull himself back over the narrow d.
viding line TO sanity again-he was learn
I ing. and not without reason, to dread
/ these wild Outbursts-IsObel asked, hesi-
tatingly:
| 'Will you tell me what I am to do
what I can do? Now that / am better.
won't trouble you longer than 1 can
help" with a proud lift of the slender
neck There must be something in the
world that I can do. some place I can go
Anywhere from here; 1t does not much
matter where
What can you do?" echoed Sir David,
as il he hardly understood her. I'VE can
do nothing now but go on with it-there
/ is no other way.
It was lsobers turn now to stare aghast,
| uncorprehending.
/ Go on with it-what can you mean? p
What I say" reiterated Sir David. i'm
patiently, the smoldering irritation of
overstrained nerves always ready 10 burst
into fame. I'VE have no choice left-you
cannot go away-you must surely see
that-we must go on with It"
''We-we-what have I to do with it?'
cried Isobel, flushing from dull, white
misery into a blaze Of scorn which trans
figured her. How can you-hOw dare
you think SO meanly. so miserabIy OF me ?
Am I 70 blame?-is 1t my fault that / am
here? Do you think because l have beer
tossed aside among the waits and strays
| Of life that J am ready at your bidding to
act such a lie? To act il? To be an in
carnate lie in every breath, every word,
every look? No, no. mott would be like
| selling my soul I can take no hand in
It Whatever I may be. have at least
my own self to be true to-
Tt is not for my own sake" he said
rather falteringly. God knows 1 have
no right to ask anything from your hands
but for her sake-my wife's sake
But that is the dreadful part" cried
Isobel, her passion mounting with her
words It's that can't bear, to go or
cheating that good, sweet woman. Oh
how good she is! 1 didn't know there
were women like her. Since-since
knew, It has been horrible. I have felt
like a murderer-like Judas-every time
she looks at me; and when she calls m,
her darling her dear child, and when she
kisses melt burns" and she struck her.
self on the mouth. "and It burns here. d
putting her hand TO her leaping heart. -
thought that she was my mother-to know
that she Is not is the cruelest loss Of all
but I can't go on with It. 1 have KEEP
silence till now because / was too lost
too bewildering to speak: but a hundred
times over, when she's been so patien
and good to me. I've nearly screamed
out the truth-T've no right TO your love
to your care; I'm not your child; I'm no
your Isobei'" Suddenly she stopped II
mid-breath. Where IS her own child
where is she?" her voice dropping TO
hslf-frightened whisper.
Sir David turned abruptly away. H,
seemed TO be battling down a recurrenc,
Of that paroxysm of misery
Don't ask me about her." he said
hoarsely. Never speak of her to m,
again. You are my daughter; you ar,
Isobel StormOnt now. She-no one vii
} ever dispute your place"
He walked away to the further end o
the room and stood motionless; and 70
the second time the girl felt herself stand