The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1909-05-14

~ - 49, - 4 r z lFtf'ar = -
thread Of his narrative. liar infzu-
ence was ever for the good, bat !
fear he did not always realize it,
i Miss Clarion made a half exclama-
ton, then, recovering herself, leaned
forward, not taking her eyes from
CORTLAND. ~
"He fancied she was bit vain g
CORTLAND went on; that she cared
too much for the attention of many
suitors and at times he despaired OF
ever winning her. Finally he had .
foolish quarrel with her over anoth.
err man, lost his temper and said
things for which he was sorry From
his club he sent her note of apology,
but she did not notice it.
''He was broken-hearted and resolv.
ed to go far away, where there were
no people or associations to remind
him of the girl he had lost. He ship.
ped aboard sailing vessel and final
ly landed in the camp.
His illness became serious. and
during the long, hot nights when the
fever set his blood on fire, he talked
of her, of places he had been with
her. of her prettiness. His mini
would wander among the scenes OF
his college days, but the girl was al.
way uppermost in his thoughts. Dur
ing his violent outbursts, he chung
to her picture which he carried in a
small gold locket that she had given
him 1fc,, nj Court.
land held up an oddly shaped, old.
fashioned locket for moment.
Miss Clarion had listened attentive
ly and at sight of the locket her color
heightened perceptibly. AS CORTLAND
slowly restored it to his pocket, she
caught her breath sharply and lean
ed back as though relieved.
Poor fellow" said Mrs. Winston;
"did he recover" -.
YES" answered CORTLAND in tono
of finality.
"But what was the end of the ro-
nance" persisted Mrs. Winston. quite
puzzled.
81 cannot tell the end of 1t. You
know 1 said at the beginning that it
was an unfinished story"
The party left the table, ana Court
land, who seemed depressed by his
narrative, separated from the other
guests and made his way =" the con-
servatory. AS he entere, t, Miss
Clarion rose from seat in corner.
,'Oh!" she cried, "how could you?
1t was heartless: it was cruel
CORTLAND made no reply and the
girl continued passionately: "You
did not tell the girls story. You did
not say that she had watched his
every effort, had taken pride in his
gaining each rung in the ladder of
success, that his advancement meant
as much to her as to him, for she be.
lieyed in his manliness and his future.
He could not, would not see that the
girl loved him and the other man was
nothing to her. You did mot tell that
the girl was out of town when your
his note came to her home, and when
T-she returned, It was too late, for
he had gone no one knew where"
Miss Clarion sobbed, then dropping
oh pEStSHcS, Crl0u. sOn! now mlSer-
ably blind you were.'
CORTLAND leaned forward and took
both her hands in his.
Louise" he said earnestly, st did
not KNOW saw no hope. What a
fool I was! But it is not too late.
What / am now, my love for you has
made me. You have been the inspira.
ton of my work and it has been a
labor of love. To you owe whatever
success I have won. Will you share
it with me? May atone for the lost
years?R
Eyes" she answered; 'Iet us re.
gain. those wears together"
Colonel Warburtcn was heard ap.
preaching the conservatory and they
returned to the drawing room as Miss
Clairton's carriage was announced.
CORTLAND was one OF the last to
leave. AS he babe goodnight to his
hostess, she said:
Your story interested me, Mr..
Conrtland. Won't you tell me the
end of it sometime?"
"Yes," he replied smiling and press.
Ing her hand warmly. 81 promise to
do so very soon. l may say, however.
that the story ended happily. Boston
Sunday Post.