Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1908-02-11

fore found any pupil quite so interest
ing Her quaint talk revealed to him
how much more real to her were the
dream creatures of her books than
were the people of her actual world
| 1T seems so strange, SO unreal, to
me that should be speaking out like
this of my secret thoughts of things
she said, a light Of wonder In her
eyes when he had led her on to talk of
the tragic mating IF Lydgate with
Rosamond in "Middlemarch;" Of the
irony of fate in the gifted doctors so
narrowly missing his true mate, the
high minded Dorothea; of the horror
1t must have been to the mother heart
of Mrs. COpperfield to die and leave
David to the mercy Of that dreadful
stepfather; of the deep significance of
that cry wrung from Guido in the hour
of his extremity, in which when all
other sources of help are closed to him
he calls upon Pompilia for mercy. con-
Tossing in that cry what only his fear
of the gallows could eXtort from him
his faith that when all others failed
him she whom he had traduced before
all Rome would surely come to his aid;
of the penalty which life exacts for
| indecision of purpose or failure to re-
spond to the vital call of nature
through cowardice or other weakness,
as in The Statue and the Bust" He
was astonished to find how keenly she
felt and saw much which he would
have deemed impossible to one of such
| limited experiences. Untrammeled by
| the worlds conventions In forming.her
| opinions or in taking impressions OF
things, there were freedom and a
breadth in her way of looking at life
| (the life of her world, peopled by
characters out of books and candor
| In her speech that were refreshing. to
saw the least. Her own delight in
speaking for the first time with one
who could understand her "secret life.
as she called 1t. was evident In her
beaming countenance.
There was an excitement to him. too,
| in their communion. For the first tine
in his exncrence he was talking to Il
woman with spontaneity. natural
ness. that seemed to open up the food
| gates of his soul.
He had never before met any woman
who seemed to him to combine such
evident ardor of temperament with
/ Iy har
individuality. he thought. with a thrill
of happy anticipation. the long hunger
of his unsatisfied manhood leaping to
meet the vague yearning for life
| which he read in her strangely ex-
pressive eyes. with their passionate
| fire.
He was warned at length by the
sputtering of the wick in his lamp
how the hours had flown.
at is Coolby as well rs good night"
he said as he rose and held out MS
hand TO her. 81 am going away to-
| morrow"
The sudden blankness Of her face al
most alarmed him. She turned whlte'
and she seemed unable to speak.
"But | shall be back within week.
| he hastened to reassure her. Ana l
shall be able to tell you everything
then, hope Did you think ! meant
I was going to break my promise TO
you"
"Going away" sne repeated duly,
ignoring his question. You are go
ing away" ,
believe me-" he begged her. that !
shall keep my promise to you. You
shall know all that know within a
week"
81 do believe It. 1t is not that. 1t
is-that you are going away"
He was puzzled. 1t will be dull for
you, you mean, after the excitement OF
our talks in this room"
She drew long breath, and her
ewes fell from their intent gaze into
| his.
81 mean-since you came here the
world has seemed full of light. When
YOU 90 no doubt it will return to its
| original color"
"What color is that" he asked, smil-
ing.
"a pale draD."
He did not for an instant give a
sentimental Interpretation to her words.
perhaps 1t will he well for your
eyes to have weeks rest from the
lurid light of my presence. for ! hope
| to bring back news to you that VIII
dazzle you sure enough unless ! am
greatly disappointed"
| "News that will dazzle me? You
mean that you are going to try to Sc
cure me teachers position? she ask
| ed, with humble gra.efulness.
"You would call that dazzling news,
Eunice, If came back with posi-
ton for you at teaching school? Well,
| well, everything depends upon ones
point of view. of course. There are
some young women to whom that
would appear Il pale drab.' shouldn't
wish it to my meanest enemy.
Then that isn't what you meant"
"You Will be disappointed If | say
no."
81 am In such suspense about my
future. am quite determined to leave
here and It would be relief to me to
have something definite in view"
you may feel entirely at peace
about that, Eunice. l promise you I'll
/ toI-o oora oF n for vou ~
"You are sure you can find me a
place and that ! am not imposing on
your kindness to ask it Of you?
"If l take day Off and roll up my
sleeves to 1t | may be able to accom-
plish it-don't give 1t moments anx'
iety!'
The contrast between the prosaic lot
of a teacher to which she looked as
a good almost too great to be hoped
| for and the brilliant fate he knew to
be possibly hers struck him dramatic.
ally.
All the while he had been talking to
her tonight he had been trying to
catch sight of that index to her iden'
tity given In the "confession"-the two
little moles under her left ear. He had
not been able to see them, and the
fear began to trouble him that they
were not there to be seen. He now
decided that he could not go on his
errand to her aunt without this proof
to add to all his other evidence.
He put his question with directn' ss
that startled her.
Pardon my lnquisitiveness. but dt
you have two small mOles OH your nccl
under your left ear?"