The Marion daily mirror. (Marion, Ohio) 1892-1912, 1908-11-23

and yet | have tried to make You
understand know now that you
cannot understand. and this is sim
ply the end. Good-by. ! will never
see your face again. God knows
want you to be happy, but I-oh,
how could I bear to see you happy
with some other mani"
He broke down lamely and boyish-
ly, and there we're quick tears in her
eyes when she rose and stood beside
him. t
"That is something you will never
see" she answered, very gently and
positively "And perhaps" there was
the ring of very real sadness in her
voice as she suddenly raised her
brimming eyes to his, perhaps I
would not know how to be 50 sorry
for you If | were not so sorry for
myself" Then she held out her hand
to him.
Dear, dear boy; good bye" she
said.
The stricken look In his eyes as he
turned from her beset her through
out the evening like an accusing con-
science. She was silent and dis
traught, so that the cheerful, robust
young man who took her in to dinner,
after several teasing innuendos re-
lating to Dudley's departure, and
half dozen futile attempts to divert
her attention to himself, finally ap-
piled himself exclusively to the vi
ands set before him, finding in them
a certain solace for the sparkling
mental entertainment he had looked
forward to on discovering that she
was to sit beside him. ....s.
After dinner she contrived to slip
away and go to her room. Her head
was aching DULY, and the sound of
gayety on every side seemed likely
something especially designed TO tor
ture. The stiffness of her bedroom
was soothing to her throbbing nerves
and she sat down near the window
and drew back the muslin curtains.
The night was moist and cloudy, and
presently the darkness and the heavi-
ness OF the atmosphere oppressed her
and she rose and lighted the candles
on the dressing-table.
AS she did this her eyes fell upon
an envelope addressed to her, and she
paused spellbound. One glance at
the handwriting had told her that 1t
was from the writer Of the love-let-
tcrs. But this differed from all the
rest in that it bore no postmark nor
special direction-simply her name,
strongly traced, and in characters
that seemed to be penned with a de-
liberation that was lacking in the
other superscriptions. ....
She reached for the little paper
knife that lay among the trinkets on
the table and cut the envelope with
one quick, eager stroke. A shiver
followed upon the hot wave of color
that had famed into her cheeks, and
her eyes were wide and troubled. She
read:
This is the last of the letters. n
| did not send It should always feel
that something was left unsaid that
should have been spoken, and that
hereafter you might think Of me, II
YOU should ever think OF me (which
I doubt, as being even more un-
worthy of your liking than in your
pity may now seem. Please try to
believe that | do fully retract those
harsh words, and that do not blame
you for anything. | honestly believe
you couldn't help II. You are one of
the women who simply have TO be
loved. The only wonder is you do
not grow tired of breaking mems
hearts and for a diversion turn TO
some other pastime. But | eXoner-
ate you wholly from any sort of pre-
meditation, and this is just to tell
you once more, and once more and
forever, to say goodbye. ......
DUDLEY HOWARD"
Wilhelmina read the letter twice to
the end--the first time feverishly,.
with frantic impatience, then halt
ingly, and in a dazed fashion, as II
her faculties had become benumbed.
Presently, still grasping it in her
cold hands, she moved slowly toward
the dressing table and sat down, gaz-
ing into the face that looked forth at
her from the mirror with a mute
questioning. The shock had made
her seem a stranger TO herself, and
her own features appeared oddly un-
familiar as she studied the white
drawn face.
Then it was Dudley-Dudley-w
had sent her all those letters. But in
the midst of the confusion Of mind
and heart that overwhelmed her two
sentences stood out from those ter
rible farewell words and cauterized
her spirit like a burning brand; Il
honestly believe you couldn't help It,
You are one of the women who sim
ply have to be loved" II was true,
true, every bit of II. With miserable
shame she confessed It: and in the
qualification of this Unsuitable crav-
ing of her nature she felt as II she
had allowed him to be sacrificed to
her as to some relentless heather
deity who was not to be appeased
save by the continual Offering up OF
a new victim. In order that her al