Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1910-08-12

might have been between two sera-
phims
Your flowers of the north coun-
tries seem so pale-and yet so pure"
she continuew, as she buried her face
within the shaggy petals. But they
have no perfumes"
"Ah, yes. they have" denied Hart
ley. I'VE have rose gardens here, too,
and violet beds in springtime, and car
nations in June, when the roses are
sweet; and mignonette, and Towering
almond, syringa, and sweet alyssum-
we have our perfumes, too, my lady.
But they're not musk laden like your
feverish India"
| "Feverish India" unused Mrs. Har-
court Il wonder If it is so! 1 am so
much better to-day. 1 can't remember
anything; it's all a dim, gray waste in
my head, but it doesn't hurt any more,
and I'm so glad. My husband-where
is he?"
IL was the frst time she had asked
about Harcourt. Hartley hesitated
He did not know whether to break the
blessed peace that surrounded her. He
did not know what to tell her. Final
ly he decided to tell the truth-a rash
thing always.
why, Miss Lancey disappeared, you
know; or do you remember the young
girl who went to your room that night.
And the police-of course it's foolish of
them, but the police, you know, think
he may know something about her dis
| appearance, and they're holding him
till they find her."
rs he in jail?" asked Mrs. Har-
court.
Why. yes" admitted Philip, but
they've made him very comfortable.
You can be comfortable even in Jail.
you know. He doesn't seem to be
minding it much
Sometimes l have thought-of late
I don't know, but there seems to De
a shadow between my husband and
me. What is it? 1 know and yet I
cannot tell. Answer me, are there two
Mes? Else why have 1 seen myself
walking in the garden when l was
sick, SO sick, and in my bed? Why
nave l seen myself beneath the trees
caressing my husband when I was in
the house with my baby on my knee?
What is it? And why? I cannot un-
derstand at ALL"
Philip tried to soothe her. He fear
ed she had overtaxed herself and
blamed himself. He rose to go, but she
detained him.
No, don't!" she pleaded. you rest
me. Just like the cool water does a
weary throat. My throat doesn't burn
any more like it used to. wonder
why. They don't give me so much
medicine here any more Harold used
to give it to me all the time. My head
feels so much lighter than it did-as If
it would blow away"
Dr. Fothergill had come in the room
while Mrs. Harcourt was speaking. st
the last words a triumphant look
flashed across the physicians face, and
her lips formed the words, II told you
So"
Il don't believe I ever want to go
back to India" continued Mrs. Har-
court, absently following the patterns
In the ceiling. Il feel so different here.
AS if it were another life. And Won.
dear friend, you have been so kind. I
love your visits so. You must come
oftener."
Philip blushed under her unconyen
tionality. He was we'll aware that
even under the guise of newspaper de-
mands that a penniless $3O-a-week re-
porter had no right to call too fire.
quently upon the wife of an East In
dian magnate, herself possessed of q |
large fortune. Particularly when this
said wife was young, lovely and |
seemingly unfortunate woman.
He made his adieux confusedly. DR..
Fothergill followed him out into the
hall. You must, as she says, come |
oftener," the doctor insisted, with the
emphasis of all haired women.
She never speaks Of herself except
when you are here. 1t is the only way
to clear this thing up. Mind what I
say. And matters are muddled badly
enough now. goodness knows. What
with two young idiots-Mr Nor
ris and Mr. Johnson-both heading for
Africa on wild goose chase. Mrs
Desterle's death, and the disappear.
ance of Miss Lancey, there has been
far too much woe and ruin accumulat
ed at the feet of one murder. A fine
set Of police they have here. I must
say. Come tomorrow, young man.
come tomorrow"
And Philip needed but little urging.
His sentiments for the woman who was
so slowly convalescing were far too
tender to suit his reason, when he
stopped to use it. But Philip was
young, and youth is ever irrational. so
he counted each hour with Mrs. Har-
court as rarer than the gems that fas-
tened her hair, or her soft lounginp
robes of wonderful texture and color
ing. He read to her, he played that
old Indian game, parchesi. with her.
and one day proposed game of cards.
but the sight Of the pasteboards turn
ed her faint. and she suffered Q siak.