The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1908-08-21
THE EVENING STORY


must give you back your freedom
Will not tell you why. because you |
would call my reasons absurd-in JUS
tlce to you. 1t must be SO. Try to for
give me" so wrote Jack Brierson
when he broke his engagement, and |
Miss Abernethy pressed her white lips |
together scornfully and sent back the |
betrothal ring by registered mail In a |
very practical manner.
Then. because the long, enervatins
spring days had robbed her cheeks Of |
their wonted bloom and the germs OF q |
convenient malaria" had dulled the |
Abernethy's guardian aunt carried her
bodily away into the bracing Adiron-
dack region. where they lived the SIM |
pie life Of the woods, and inhaled vigor
and peace with the sweet air.
Gradually the cynical lines faded
from Roses face, and when the sum-
mer brought a greater influx of visitors
to the large hotels she found herself
back in that whirl of pleasure Of which
she had always, necessarily, been
part.
One afternoon she went to her fav-
orite retreat on the brink at the Fall
ing Hill, where a huge bowlder under
the pines afforded comfortable seat.
Here she had come every day to wit
ness the glorious pageantry of the sun
set, and her joy in its recurring splen-
dor was always tinged with dread OF
the sheer precipice that yawned at her
feet.
Now she was reveling in the solitude
Of the spot when slow, hesitating steps
broke the silence. She turned as man
came into view, parting the bushes
with a familiar brown hand. 1t was
Jack Brierson.
Apparently he did not see her, for he
continued his faltering advance almost
to the very edge Of the hill. Then he
| stopped and looked away toward the
| west with level eyes and face so
stilled from all emotion that Its very
tenseness was eloquent Of pain.
Rose Abernethy's face paled as she
| watched him curiously. It seemed very
| strange to be watching Jack at this re-
mote distance with that empty feeling
| in her heart and brain. She didn't
even hate him-some girls might have
done so after being Tilted, but somehow
| she didn't care. She leaned forward
| breathlessly, as he suddenly raised the
| light stick which he. carried and made
another step toward the brink of the
precipice.
DON'T" she cried involuntarily,
and she stepped around the pine and
held out protesting hand.
| Brierson turned sharply and his
blank gaze met her own-unrecogniz-
| ing, Indifferent.
| az thought I was alone" he said
courteously, removing his hat.
TT thought you did not see that
you were so near the edge OF the prec-
\ ipice," she said, in a low tone and with
burning cheeks.
He felt about with his stick in a clum-
sy, unseeing manner and dislodged a
stone which went hurtling down the
steep incline with an alarming crackle
of twigs and earth. He stood In lis
tening attitude until the echoes mad
died away, and then he extended one
hand with a helpless gesture.
81 am sorry to trouble you, madam,
butt am blind; will you kindly turn
me about into the safe path
Something warm came into the
girls heart as he spoke and her lips
uuivered- painfully; she laid small
hand on his coat sleeve. AS she old
So the turf crumb1ed under his feet
and with a startled cry he sank away
from her over the brink of the preci-
pice. -
sleeve as his weight pulled her down.
ward. she threw her strong young
body on the ground, and clutched with
her free hand at the tough branches
of stunted cedar.
LET CO." he said hoarselY; you are
IT shall not let CO." she replied de-
cisively. Except for your blindness
you are strong man ?" -.
yes" he said impatiently; "but
. you must release me at once, madam!
If I have been foolish enough to 5eop-
|
rif1ce yours!"
o'If YOU are strong you can pull
, yourself up by the aid of this cedar
, tree. I will bend It down1som lit ere,
, Now, draw yourself up and VIII help
/, YOU on to firm ground"
, Five minutes later he lay painting
. on the ground at her feet. Il am very
; grateful-'' he began eagerly. when
her crisp, cool voice stopped the
: words on his lips.
ct am more than repaid" she said
with cruel emphasis. Il never met
coward before!'
"A-coward!" he stammered. sitting
up and turning his sightless eyes to-
"a coward" she repeated firmly;
"you see-I know-Rose Abernethy.'
"Ah! You have the advantage OF
me, madam; your fiattering words IN.
dictate that you have some knowledge
of my AFFAIRS"
His face was very red and his black
brows were drawn together in an
, angry frown.
ion." said Miss Abernethy, coldly. u
r will tell you why I believe you to be
, a coward, II you wish"
He smiled grimly.
v "You have been good enough to save
! a very worthless 1ife-go on"
"You are a coward because you are
afraid to let Rose Abernethy know
Il that you are blind; you denied her the
: right to snare your aIllcllon anu 10 le'
her money makes things easier fol-
I: YOU She would gladly have shared
: her paltry dollars with your
you don't observation-disclosures
] you are," he said shortly. II am q
a poor man; I had just reached a point
where my fortunes depended upon the
, ikeenness of every faculty and this
blindness came upon me like stroke
: Of lightning. could not ask Rose
beautiful. bright Rose--to play nurse
and lady bountiful to miserable
, blind beggar!" He dropped his face
r in his hands and forgetful Of her pres.
e r1x