The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-07-26

Hlanoed. Wnat 10 you Mean!"
his world and was too proud to ask
his mother for money.
And now! Suppose he had gone
back 10 his people? A low ejaculation
escaped her, and she dropped the cur
tain and pressed her hand, clenched
to the hardness Of a stone, against
her breast.
The mere thought of such a thing
was intolerable. She did not see how
she could support the idea of his
mother and sister winning him from
her. She hated them. They were the
ones who had wronged her, who had
excluded her from the home and the
riches and the position that her mar
riage should have given her. Her re-
taliation had been her unwavering
grip on Dominick and the careful dis
erection with which she had comport-
ed herself as his wife. There was no
ground of complaint against her She
had been as quiet, housekeeping and
dutiful a woman as any in California.
She had been a good housekeeper, a
skillful manager of her husbands
small means. 1t was only within the
last year that she had, in angry spite,
run into the debts with which she had
tainted him. No wife could have
lived more vigorously up to the letter
of her marriage contract. 1t was easy
for her to do it. She was not a wom-
an whom light living and license at
tracted. She had sacrificed her honor
to win Dominick, grudgingly, unwil-
lingly, as close-fsted men part with
money in the hope of rich returns.
She did not want to be his mistress,
but she knew of no other means by
which she could reach the position of
his wife.
Now suppose he had gone back to
his people! 1t was an insupportable
a maddening thought. 1t plunged her
into agitation that made her rise and
move about the room with an aimless
| restlessness, like some soft-footed fe
line animal. Suppose he had gone
home and told them about last night
and they had prevailed upon him not
| to come back!
Well, even if they had, hers was
still the strong position. The sympathy
of the disinterested outsider would
| always be with her. If she had beer
| quarrelsome and ugly, those were
small matters. In the great essentials
| she had not failed. Suppose she and
| the Ryans ever did come to an oper
crossing of swords, would not hel
| story be the story of the two? The
| worlds sympathy would certainly not
| go to the rich women, trampling or
! the poor little typewriter, the honest
working girl, who for one slip, rightet
! by subsequent marriage, had been the
| object of their implacable antagonist
| and persecution.
She said this opposite the mirror
extending her hands as she had seer
an actress do in a recent play. A:
she saw her pointed, pale face, hel
expression of worry gave way to one
of pleased complacence. She looked
pathetic, and her position was pa
thetic. Who would have the heart Il
! condemn her when they saw her anC
heard her side of the story? Her spir
its began to rise. With the first CLEAN
| her apprehensions. A struggle o
sunshine pierced the fog, and goins
to the window she drew the curtain!
and looked out on the veil of mis-
every moment growing brighter anC
thinner. The sun finally pierced 1t
a patch Of blue shone above, and drop
ping the curtains she turned ant
/ looked at the clock. 1t was after elev
en- She decided she would go out ana
take lunch with her sisters, who wer.
always ready TO listen and to sympa
thize with her.
These sisters were the only intimat.
friends and companions Bernice had
their home the one house TO which
she was a constant visitor. With al
her peculiarities and faults she pos
sessed a strong sense Of kin. In he
rise TO fairer fortune, if not create
happiness, her old home had neve
lost its hold upon her, nor had sh
! weakened in a sort OF cross-grained
patronizing loyalty TO her two sisters
This may have been accounted for b.
the fact that they were exceedingl
amiable and affectiOnate, proud to re
gard Bernice as the flower of the fan
lily, whose dizzy translation 70 une2
pected heights they had watched wit.
Tnenvious admiration