The Sauk Centre herald., 1909-04-22
some face is to chasten marriage Of

"No." she answered, emphasizing
the word-"no. You do not under
stand., Tomorrow Il pshall go to st.
Johp to- live under his roof az his cont
panion and fellow-worker. There is to
be mo empty ceremony" ,pz .l,
As the idea, came home to Winners
his chest heaved, his features swelled
with rising rage. "Good Lord" he
cried, ..you surely won't do anything
SO mad as that! It's been tried before
and it isn't good enough"
i. She answered, unmoyed, coldly de-
cisiye: I'VE are quite determined
in the stand we shall take. Where the
| cowardly draw back, we dare"
Listen to me-" He spoke earnestly,
the anger dying away in his voice. L
can't see you ruin yourself. If you
cant live, without this young scamp
I'll give you your freedom and you can
marry him decently"
Still you do not understand" she
| said. You urge on me the conven-
| t1onal coWardice; you would rob my
act of its soul. Ours is to be a purely
| spiritual communion, a fearless union
of predestined souls"
He threw back his head. God!
You can't be deceived by such rot!
You can't be duped, like a green girl,
| by vulgar fellow who sugars his low
| motives with thin coating of
| ethics!"
Her spirit rose to arms in defense
of the absent one.
| Before We go any further you must
understand that l will listen to no
abuse of st. John. When we have
won our battle, when he has proved
himself, then it will be time enough
to pass judgment"
"Then," he gasped-"then it will be
too late. He will have dragged you
! through the mire."
She shuddered: his reference to the
| mud with which a conventional world
bespatters the unconventional con-
Iured up an unpleasant pict4.e. Yet a
sense of heroiSsn buoyed f"r up; all
! women are pOtas,tial mart~.">
| "Jim," she sad, almost 7 eadingly,
won't you try to underotsnd? Our
union is to be purely spiri;> Al, COM
munion of mind, a marrias. of souls,
no more"
II know my world" he observed.
brutally, ''and men are men the world
| over"
| A fine scorn burned in her eye
There are men" she said. who can
understand a noble alliance between
man and woman. Evidently things
of the spirit pass your comprehen-
sion.''
His ear caught the accent on the
your" and he WINGED, feeling the
edge.
"And St. John" he cried, passionate
ly, 'he, l suppose, is an adept in
platonism. How do you Judge between
him and me? Have you put him to
any test? Has he been with you
when the lights were low, when the
passion of the night burns in the
blood? Has he leaned towards you as
| do now and felt the air throb with
the beating of your heart? You've ex-
| changed notions on ethics in a crowded
lecture room and you judge him by
that! If he were with you now, do
you think he'd still prate of platon-
ism? I'll wager not for long,"
| She drew back drawing her draper
les away from his communicating
touch.
For your own sake l wish l could
prove to you the mans purity of pur-
pose, his loftiness of SOUL"
The thought came to him in a flash:
Here was his chance. Prove it," he
| nroQH SYyIt him fN act eI,
is fair chance"
| She raised her eyebrows in interro-
rogation: How"
/ In the thronging thoughts of the
moments silence his devotion to her
rose to heroic heights, topping mere
egoism and personal vanity. Fear of
the leering. hooting world faded from
his mind; his one thought was to save
her.
go to him now!" he cried, breath
lessly; "go to him tonight! Go to him
as you are! Let him feel the mystery
of your beauty, the power of your
| presence. and then" The gap was
eloquent beyond mere words.
For answer she turned and deliber-
! ately pressed the button summoning
her maid. "He will not fail me-" she
said, simply. The maid appeared and
stood behind her mistress, discreetly
inconspicuous.
In the doorway Mrs. Winners turned.
Il am unafraid. Good-by." Her hand
was outstretched, but he did not see
it. He was leaning against the mantel-
piece his face in his hands, his shoul-
ders heaving. CO." he cried, "go!"
A moment later the slam of the
street door echoed through the house.
In the dim, high-ceilinged room Will
mers sat alone, sunk in the Morris
chair, his chin on his crumpled shirt
bosom, his arms hanging limp at his
sides. The Louis Quinze clock which
two gil. Cupids forever bore on their
uplifted palms struck IL in persistent
discord. 49,
His watery glance wandered aim
lessly about the room and paused for
a long moment at the doorway; it had
but lately framed her figure. There
was slight rustic on the stairs; the
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