The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1912-07-12

tnued, "rr yotl mad only leveled your
ridicule at me alone. But father, poor
old fatherl am glad he will not see
that last letter He would hardly think
that one funny"
She looked at me. and her eyes sud
denly seemed to blaze with scorn and
contempt.
"Yes. | see Il all now, and the Won
der is did not see 1t before. 1t was
he whom you described as a broken
down aristocrat who descanted on
politics and wrote pieces to the paper
telling the president how to run the
government II was mother who dress
ed in wornout velvet gowns and sat in
state at the dinner her daughter had
cooked, and 1t was 1 who cooked the
dinners and played sonatag and noe
turnes for the amusement of our
guests. God why did | not see you
as you were? Yes, and these are the
hands," she cried in anguish and scorn
holding them toward me that l might
see them, that have cooked your
meals for the past four weeks, and
these are the same hands that played
for you while you smoked your pipe
and heard father descant on politics!
How poor and miserable we must have
seemed to you! All that could have
forgiven, but you dared to soil my skin
with your kisses They win burn
deep here" she said, pointing to her
fingers, long after your ingrattude
has been forgotten"
Ellen, for Gods sake have pity. |
cried. II have laughed at your power
ty as if IL were my own. am rich-I
never told this to you beforehand |
felt that the only use of my wealth in
the future would be to relieve the bur-
dens Of those you love. This night
nay, this very afternoon-I was going
to ask you TO be my wife, from which
moment your father. mother and broth
er would have been mine also. 1t was
this very poverty and the fortitude
with which you bore it that have made
me love you. After you spoke this aft.
ernoOn l could not tell you of my love
until l had confessed first that l was
the author of the letters which wound
ed you so deeply"
II am glad you spared me that last
humiliation. I can never forgive my
self for being happy in your company
| or for spurning the hand stretched out
to lift us from this degradation"
Squire Hawkins" l said in bitter
| ness.
"Yes, Squire Hawkins, whom yor
would have insulted as you have us
And to think that just because I hat
| listened to him l believed myself un
worthy of your love! You must eX
| cuse me nOw," she added in cutting
tones, ''for 1 must go to prepare YOU
dinner. l suppose there will be one
less TO provide for tomorrow
She started to leave the room, but
stood in front of her
''No, will not go. You do not un
| derstand. 1t was with love yelling il
my heart that / wrote that last letter
l had been ordered home, and l wrot,
that letter that l might stay anotheI
fortnight After you had promised t
| DS Ily vile NOulu nave tOIu yOu al
and together we would have read 1t
and in the richness of the future W,
would have laughed over it together
No, l Will not go. l will stay anC
tell Bud and the colonel. They will
understand and plead for me. Ant
If you love me-
"If 1 ever did you killed it the mo
ment you confessed to have written S,
about one you professed to love, on,
whom you should have protected ant
have helped to hide from the worlC
that which she feels 80 degradas her
instead Of which you hold 1t UP t
publicity and TO the scorn of the world
You cannot stay here longer. Don
force me to tell father or my brother
That would be more than could bear
She put her hand toward a chair n
If 30 keep her from falling. l cam
step nearer, but she drew back in
voluntarily, steadying herself and look
ing me IN the face, and with a voic
vibrating with emotion said:
Don't touch me! never want t.
see you nor to hear Of you againT'
| lTOntinuad in Dayt ENridav's DaDar