The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-04-11
tCopyright Isll. by ". q. Ohapma1
CHAPTER XIV.
The Mans Heart.

love itself il it be true and high is
Its own reward. Love may feel itself
unworthy and may shrink even from
beloved, yet it joys in its own exist
ence nevertheless. Of course its
greatest satisfaction is in the return,
but there is sweetness even in the
despair Of the truly loving.
Enid Maitland, however, did not
have to endure Indifference, or fight
against a passion which met with no
response, for this man loved her with
a love that was greater even than
her own. The moon, in the trite aphor-
ism, looks on many brooks, the brook
sees no moon but the one above him
in the heavens. In one sense his
merit In winning her affection for him
knew, was the greater; in many years
he had only seen this one woman.
Naturally she should be everything to
him. She represented to him not only
the woman but womankind. He had
been a boy practically when he had
buried himself in those mountains,
and in all that time he had seen no.
gument which had been exploited to
show why she should love him could
be turned about to account for his
passion for her. They are not necess-
airy, they are all supererogatory, idle
words. To him also love had been
born In an hour. 1t had flashed into
existence as If from the fat of the
Divine.
Oh, he had fought against it. Like
the cremites of old he had been
scourged into the desert by remorse
and another passion, but time had
done its work. The woman he first
loved had ministered not to the spir-
itual side of the man, or If she had
SO ministered In any degree it was be-
cause he had looked at her with a
glamour of inexperience and youth.
During those five years of solitude, of
study and Of reflection, the truth had
gradually unrolled itself before him.
Conclusions vastly at variance with
what he had ever believed possible
first bestowed his heart, had got into
his being and were in solution there;
this present woman was the precipitant
which brought them to life. He knew
now what the old appeal Of his wife
had been. He knew now what the
new appeal Of this woman was.
In humanity two things in life are
inextricably intermingled, body and
soul. Where the function of one be-
gins and the function of the other
ends no one Is able to say. In all
human passions are admixtures Of
the earth earthly. We are born the
sons OF old Adam as we are reborn
complex. AS in harvest wheat and
tares grow together until the end, so
In love earth and heaven mingls ever.
He remembered a clause from an an
cient marriage service he had read.
with my body I thee worship" and
with every fibre Of his physical being,
he loved this woman.
It would be idle to deny that, i'm
possible to disguise the facts, but in
the melting pot Of passion the pre-
ponderant ingredient was mental and
spiritual; and just because higher and
holier things predominated, he held
her in his heart sacred thing Love
beautiful blossom; the spiritual factor
is the fragrance which abides in the
rose jar even after every leaf has fad
ed away, or which may be expressed
from the soft petals by the hard cir
cumstances of pain and sorrow until
there is left nothing but the lingering
perfume of the flower.
His body trembled If she laid a
hand upon him, his soul thirsted for
her; present or absent he coniured
before his tortured brain the sweet
ness that Inhabited her breast He
had been clearsighted enough in an
alyzing the past, he was neither clear.
sighted nor coherent In thinking of
| the present. He worshiped her, he
| could have thrown himself upon his
knees to her; if it would have added
to her happiness, she could have
killed him, smiling at her. Rode she
| in the Juggernaut car Of the ancient
| idol, with his body, would he have IN
hesitatingly paved the way and have
been glad Of the privilege. He longed
to compass her with sweet obser-
| servances. The world reyenged itself
| upon him for his long neglect, it had
summed up in this one woman all its
charm, its beauty, its romance, and
had thrust her into his very arms.
His was one of those great passions
| which illuminate the records of the
past. Paolo had not loved Francesca
more
Oh, yes, the woman knew he loved
her. 1t was not in the power of NOR
tai man no matter how iron his re-
straint,. how absolute the imposition
| of his will, to keep his heart hidden,
his passion undisclosed. No one could
keep such things secret, his love for
her cried aloud in a thousand ways
| even his look when he dared to turn
his eyes upon her was eloquent Of his
feeling. He never said a word, how
ever, he held his lips at least fettered
and bound for he believed that honor
| and its obligations weighed down the
balance upon the contrary side to
which his inclinations lay
He was not worthy of this woman
| In the first place all he had to of.