The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1910-07-11

her existence. While he was alive
while he showed his real nature by
bandying her name at a public
meeting, and by appearing before an
audience in state OF intoXication,
she felt that her coniuct, in spite
of a feeling which suggested re-
morse. was eXcusable but now he
was dead, all was different. Perhaps
in a vague. dim sort of a way
she had felt the possibility of his
coming into her life again, although
she had no definite consciousness
of il, but now she realized that
he was gone from her life. except as
a memory. She pictured him lying on
the cold steps beside the river; she
thought of the feelings which must
have been in his heart as he threw
himself into its dark, turbid waters.
1t was very terrible, CHASTITY, in fact.
She did not consider who sent her
the paper, her mind was absorbed
in the fact it contained.
Presently she asked herself what
would have happened if she had
married him. Would this dread
tragedy have been averted, and
would she have been able, as he
had said, to have led him to a
noble manhood Even then her heart
had answered no. The reformation
which she thought she had work.
ed was only a mOckery; even if it
had been real, it was only a veneer
of reformation, so thin that it had
failed him when she refused to
mold further intercourse with him
She wondered whether she really
loved him, else why could she think
of his death SO calmly? Her heart
was very sore, and she felt stunned
by the news of his death. yet she
was able to think quite clearly and
collectedly.
She read the paragraph concern
ing Leicester again. She supposed
that there could be no doubt that
it was he. The name upon the
handkerchief, the letter addressed
to him-no, there could be no doubt.
Perhaps in day or 50 the English
newspapers would contain further
news about him. There would. OF
course, be an inquest. and then the
| circumstantial evidence would be
tested; but of course he was dead
Suddenly the remembrance OF
their last interview came back tc
| her. He had reminded her of hel
/ promise never to marry another
man, no matter what might happen
She remembered the reply she hat
made, too. was as bitter and as
cruel as she could make it, anC
she called to mind the look on his
face when she had spoken. Never
| theless, she had promised never tC
marry another man. But it did mo-
matter. She wouli never want tt
marry; the thought of such a thing
was repugnant. She wished she coulC
cry, but her eyees We're dry; she
wished she had some feeling o
tenderness in her heart; but she haC
none. She was cold and calm; in
deed, she seemed to be past feeling
If she felt anything at all, it wa,
anger. Even yet she was angry tha
/ her picture had been exhibited a
the political melting at Taviton, ant
that she should be spoken abou
by man who few minutes after
wards fell on the platform II
drunken helplessness. Why was it
Surely Leicester's death should hav,
destroyed any such feelings. He hat
atoned now for all he had done.
A minute later a knock came t,
the door and she heard her faith
er's voice.
olive, may | come in?"
Yes, father; what is n?"
John Castlemaine came in. an,
she saw the moment he entered tina
he had something of importance t
tell her.
When would you like to go bacl
TO England olive" he said.
81 don't know she said. Some
how her interest in returning HON,
had evaporated since the news o
Leicesters death.
Il don't mean to The Beeches
Olive"