Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1908-07-07

CAME DICK 10 ucT nleiuOig dllSF-
ward in more vivid colors.
She made the necessary introduction.
Your name has an Italian sound
GreswoId said presently.
1T is a Milanese name. Ny father
was a native of Milan; my mother was
French, but she was educated in Eng
land, and all her proclivities were Eng
lish. 1t was at her desire my father sent
me to Rugby and afterward to Cam
bridge. Her fatal illness called me back
to Italy Immediately after l had got my
degree, and it was some year before 1
again visited England"
Were you in Italy all that time?"
asked Greswold, looking down absently,
and with an unwonted trouble in his
face
Eyes, l wasted four or five years in
the South lin Florence, in Venice, or
along the Riviera, wandering about ike
Satac, sot having made up my mind what
to do In he world"
Crossword was silent
you must have heard my fathers
name when you were at Milan" said Cas-
tellani. His music was fashionable
there"
Mildred looked up with a surprised ex-
preston. She had never heard her hus-
band talk of Milan, and yet this stranger
mentioned his residence there as if it were
an accomplished fact.
How did you know / was ever at
Miami asked Greswold, looking up
sharply.
For the simplest of reasons / had the
honor of meeting you on more than one
occasion at large assemblies, where my
Insignificant personality would hardly i'm
press itself upon your memory. And
met you a year later at Lady Lochinvar's
palace at Nice, soon after your first mar
riage."
Mildred looked up at her husband. He
was pale as ashes, his lips whitening as
she gazed at him. She felt her own
cheeks paling felt a sudden GOODNESS
creeping over her, as if she were going
to faint. She watched her husband
dumbly, expecting him to tell this man
that he was mistaken, that he was con-
founding him, George Greswold, with
someone else; but Greswold, sat silent,
and presently, as If to hide his confusion,
bent again over the dog, which got up
suddenly and licked his face IN a gush
of affection-as if she knew-as if she
knew.
He had been married before, and he
had told his wife not one word of that
first marriage. There had been no hint
of the fact that he was a widower when
he asked John Fausset for his daughters
hand.
Enderby church clock struck six. They
heard every chime, slow and clear in the
summer stiffness, as they sat in the broad
shadow of the cedar, silent all three. 1t
seemed as if the striking of the clock were
the breaking of the spell.
$50 later" exclaimed Castellani, in a
CHEEKY voice; "and | promised Mrs. Hill
lersdon to be back in time to drive to
Romsey for the evening service"
He had the easiest air possible, and
seemed totally unconscious of any embar-
rassment caused by his illusions to the
past and yet in both faces, as he looked
from one to the other, he must have seen
the strongest indications of trouble
Mr.. Castellani was inclined to be loqua-
cious to the last. Greswold was brief
almost to incivility. He stood watching
the light cart roll away, and then went
slowly back to the garden and to his seat
under the cedar.
He seated himself without word, look
ing earnestly at his wife, whose dropping
head and fixed attitude told of deepest
thought SO they sat for some minutes in
dead silence, Kassandra licking her mas
ter's pendant hand, as he leaned forward
L Ii. l. s.E .x.& l..
ry for him. Mildred was the first to
break that silence.
George, why did You not tell me," she
began in a low, faltering voice, that
was not your first wife? What reason
could there be for concealment between
you and me? | so trusted you; / so
loved you Nothing you could have told
would have changed me-"
Dearest, there was one reason, and
powerful one" answered George Ores
void, meeting the appealing look of her
eyes with clear and steady gaze. my
first marriage is sad remembrance for
me-full of trouble. l did not care to
tell you that miserable story, to call a
dreaded ghost out of the grave of the
past. My first marriage was the one great
sorrow of my life: but it was only an
episode in my life. 1t left me as lonely
as it fould me. There are very few who
know anything about it. l am sorry that
young man should have come here to trou-
BILE US with his unlimited "reminiscences.
For my own part, / cannot remember
having ever seen his face before"
II am sorry you should have kept such
secret from me-" said Mildred. 1T
would have been so much wiser to have
been candid. Do you think / should not
have respected your sad memoriesi You
had only TO say to me, Such things were
but let us not talk of them 1t would
have been more manly; it would have
been kinder to me-"
Say that was coward, if you like
that | am stiii coward, where those
memories are concerned" said Greswold.
The look of agony in his face melted
her in moment. she threw herself on
her knees beside his chair, she and the
dog fawning upon him together.
Forgive me, forgive me, dearest she
pleaded; II viii never speak to you of
this again. Women are so jealous-of the
past most of ALL"
rs that ALP" he said. God knows
You have little need. Let us say no
more. Mildred. The past is past; neither
you nor l can alter it. Memory is in
exorable."
CHAPTER VT