Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-12-25


persuade her? 1 have tried to brighten
her, and she refuses to understand"
IT think she has none.' lied. promptly.
from motive mysterious to myself.
But will do what l cam.
Yet it was we'll known to me that Con-
stance Larcher and her only brother
were devoted friends and in most matters
close counselors. so that to save her
1 need only send him a word of warning
Was not this my obvious duty? Why
could 1 not bring myself to do t-by
telegraph, even-without delay?
All day the thought tortured me. yet
remained perversely inert. In the even
ing it so came about that she spoke OF
that I dared to ask her what his advice
had been in regard to her illness.
''Oh. John doesn't know I've been doc
toring myself" she said easily. Il should
been bothered so much with me-
The poor man thinks I'm quite well-as
shall be-
was left, then. with what appeared
womans life 1. and 1 alone, could have
saved her. And I did not.
But cruel and foolish though l may
have been. 1 could not then, and could
not even now. take her joy from her:
break her crystal cup and spill the
warm red wine of life that filled it. After
much weary thinking 1 had come to
understand that if she had been younger
l should have had the courage that was
lacking. Had she been a girl there would
have been time for a long healing. and
she could ultimately have opened her
heart to another happiness. But to tear
Constance Larcher from the sight of
Sidney Fennell would be like thrusting
her in the tomb. Life could hold no
reparation for her.
And yet the situation that gave her
such agitation and delight was in it's
very nature evanescent. 1t was not
likely that she would not come to see
less of Sidney or more Of him. 1t
seemed to me that she must lose him
or gain him. And Sidney could never
care. Bright, gay, lovable creature
that he was he seemed to remember no
woman longer than a day; the ARREST
dallter with the emotions. l thought
him. And as for poor Constance Lar
cher, living on her secret. tormenting
love for him, she seemed to mean no
more to him than--I. for instance in
significant Adela Southmayd.
There was the certainty, too, that
any one else-that Dick. had I dreamed
Of telling him-would have questioned
pretty sharply my presentation of the
case. Constance Larcher had never told
me that she cared for Sidney. How
could 1 put SO much faith in my ro-
mantle imagfnings, stake SO much on
them, stern fnterrogators might we'll
have asked me-even to the risking of
womans life?
Yet this did not shake my own con-
viction that I knew. or alter my feeling
that 1t would be a complicated treach-
cry to betray her to her brother or
whomsOever else. when she had not
wished that even l should know. There
was. for my Watchful eye, evidence
enough. There were five days when we
did not know where Sidney was news
OF his mothers illness having called
him home too suddenly to permit his tell
ing US OF his departure. She bravely
filled the time with laughter and frivol-
lty, but ]. who was near her. knew the
fear that chilled her and the anguish
that burned. And there was her at
fected carelessness of interest in all
the little things I knew Of him and was
glad to tell her. for although poor Con-
stance did not know it. we came to talk
OF Sidney almost all the time. She must
have supposed that my introductions of
his name. Of anecdotes about him. were
inadvertently she had known with
what 1aborious Indifference I dragged
them in, unable to resist the look of
content, of asSuag cement, that they gave
her!
But the thing that determined me at
last to take my sudden. momentous
step was not the spectacle OF Constance
Larcher's love. shining always more
and more wildly through her conven-
tionality's light. lustrous shell. but the
fateful sentence that the doctor had
let drop, when tortured by my fears
for her. had gone alone to see him
IT'S of no use for me to suggest any,
thing further" he had told me impa-
tiently. almost angrily. Nothing can
help her now: She has neglected her
self too long"
The horror with which this smote
me. and the almost intolerable sense of
guilt that 1t aroused, seemed to give
me the energy to do something decisive
at last. SO | sent that very night for
Sidney. He came in. looking SO young
and serene and truStful that | could
have Mept for him But I could not
spare him. Or so | believed-for 7 had
not given myself time to think it over
| made him sit by me SO that ! could
look straight into his eyes-and I told
him everything. ! put the case to him As
hardly and Squarely though the poOr
womans infatuation logically imposed
some obligation upon him: aS though
she were the first woman who had
loved him vainly: as though there were
not. to my own knowledge. a score of
others. And then. with all the fervor
that was in me. ! begged him to take
pity on her.
He waited silently, until at last 7 had
finished: then he asked if were entirely
sure.
is dying, and she loves you unspeaka bly,
Dear boy. YOU have your whole life
apart from this to do what YOU like
with. After all. it isn't so much for YOU
i
thing. You remember our saying that
she made for happiness? Oh, give
il to her. Sidney. before she dies
What | had said seemed to have sunk
tn unprobed depth in him. He looked
old and strange as he sat there. his head
turned away. After long silence he
turned to ME: L believe YOU care very
much about this Adela. 1t would be
doing something for YOU. would it not?'
Il can think of nothing that 7 want so
much,'' l told him
I'm that case. he said. still Very So
berry, you may be content. But I'm
weak enough to want YOU to understand.
lust once-you may forget it again when
am gone from the room-Whv il is that
do II. / mean that it is all for you"
He paused. and lis look burned me.
Then he turned away. IF it had not
been for this. ] should never have let
you know, Adela-you must believe that"
underst God, and in the one instant
that I had met his look l wondered that
could ever have thought him a mere
volatile boy I rose, and was stumbling
out of the room when he stopped me-
Don't, Adela,'' he said. calmly. ~
not ask you to forgive me. Am I not
doing the only thing that you ever asked
of me-" Then he smiled curiously and
left.
An hour passed. or two-I do not know
how long it was. But I know that |
sat trembling thinking of the two who