Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1912-11-04


me IN any plans you may form. I know
now this looks-I know that as vour
protner and truest admirer. I should re-
spohd' and respond strongly, to such over
ies as these, but the motive for achieve
tHoh' Is gone. She was my all; and while
might work, 1T would be mechanically
ne hrt. the elevating thought is gone"
otiaHuo stood moment studying his
orothers face; then he turned shortly
ABOUT and walked the length Of the room.
Nhen ne came back. he took up his stand
again directly before Oswald, and asked.
WIN new note in his voice:
Did you love Edith Challoner so much
as that?"
"A glance from Oswald's eye, sadder
| than any tear
80 that you can not be reconciled?"
gesture. Oswald's words were always
Orlando's frown deepened.
ouch grief L partly understand" said
ne But time will cure ii. Some dav
another lovely face"
We'll not talk of that. Orlando
No. We'll not talk of that" acouiesced
the inventor, walking away again. this
time to the window. For you there's but
one woman-and she's memory"
Killed! broke from his brothers lips.
siam by her own hand under an impulse
OF Wlldness and terror! Can 1 ever forget
that? Do not expect 1t, Orlando"
Then you do blame me?" Orlando
turned and was looking full at Oswald
i blame your unreasona bleness and
your overweening pride"
Orlando stood a moment then moved
| toward the door. The heaviness of his
step smote upon Oswald's ear and caused
him to exclaim:
Forgive me, Orlando" But the other
cut him short with an imperative:
| Thanks for your candor If her spirit
| Is destined to stand like an immovable
shadow between You and me, you do right
10 warn me. But this interview must
end all alusion to the subject. l will seek
and find another man to share my for
| tunes; las he said this he approached
suddenly, and took his papers from the
others hand) Or" Here he hastily re-
! traced his steps to the door which he
softly opened. "Or," he repeated But
| though Oswald listened for the rest, it
dld not come. While he waited, the other
mad given him one deeply concentrated
look and passed out
NO heartfelt understanding was possible
| between these two men,
Crossing the hall, Orlando knocked at
the door of Doris little sitting room.
No answer, yet she was there He
| knew it in every throbbing fibre of his
| body. She was there and quite aware of
his presence; of this he felt sure; yet she
did not bid him enter. Should he knock
again? Never! but he would not quit the
| threshold, not if she kept him waiting
| there for hours. Perhaps she realized
this. Perhaps she had meant to open the
| 70 h Inn frny No
tell? What avais Is that she did ulti-
mately open it, and he, meeting her soft
eye, wished from his very heart that his
| impulse had led him another way even
If that way had been to the edge Of the
/ precipice-and over.
| For the face he looked upon was Sc
rene. and there was no serenity in him:
rather confusion OF Embossed passions
fearful of barrier and yearning tumultu-
| ouSlY for freedom. But, whatever his re-
| volt, the secret revolt which makes no
show in look or movement, he kept his
ground and forced a smile of greeting
If her face was quiet, it was also lovely
| too lovely, he felt, for a man to leave it,
whatever might come Of his lingering.
Nothing in all his life had ever affected
him like it. For him there was no other
woman in the past the present or the flu
ture, and, realizing this--taking in to the
full what her affection and her trust
might be to him in those fearsome days
! to come, he $40 dreaded a rebuff-he, who
had been the courted of women and the
admired of men ever since he could re-
member-that he failed to respond to her
| welcome and the simple congratulations
she felt forced to repeat. He could neither
speak the commonplace, nor listen to it,
| |, to al 40
support here, or yield hopelessly to the
maelstrom in whose whirl he was caught
She saw his excitement and faltered
back a step--a move which she regretted
| the next minute, for he took advantage of
| it to enter and close behind him the door
which she would never have shut of her
own accord. Then he spoke, abruptly,
passionately, but in those golden tones
which no emotion could render other than
alluring:
IT am an unhappy man, Miss Scott. l
see that my presence here is not welcome,
yet am sure that it would be so if 1t were
not for a prejudice which your generous
nature should. be the first to cast aside,
| in face of the outspoken confidence of
my brother Oswald. Doris, little Doris,
| | love you l have loved you from the
moment of our first meeting. Not to
| many men lS II gwen 10 ITu MS nedfl 50
late, and when he does. il is for his whole
! life; no second passion can follow it, /
know that I am premature in saying this;
that you are not prepared to hear such
words from me and that il might be
wiser for me to withhold them, but l
must leave Derby soon. and ] can not
! go until l know whether there is the
/ least hope that you will Yet lend light
to my career or whether that career
must burn itself 10 ashes at your feet.
Oswald-nay, hear me out Oswald lives
in his memories; but ! must have an
active hOpe-a tangible expectation-if l
am to be the man | was meant 70 be.
VIII you. then, coldly dismiss me, or Will
Won let my whole future life prove to you
the innocence of my past? | will not has
ten anything; all I ask is some indul-
gence. Time will do the rest
impossible" she murmured
But that was a word for which he had
NJ ear. He saw that she was moved, un-
expectedy so; that while her eyes wan
dered restlessly at times toward the door,
they ever came back in girlish wonder, If