The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1913-06-26
FROM OUT THE PAST
BY WILLIAM E. GRANT.


smooth parquet was keeping dreamy I
time to the whispering tinkle Of the
mandolins. With curious smile OH |
her cameo face Mrs. Santeile stood |
watching the throng of those eager
pursuers Of feet-footed happiness.
There was crowd of admirers about I
her, and she was sparkling all over,
in jewels and vita cold satirical |
wit.
Presently there came into the room
girl and her chaperone. The former |
was Mrs. Santelles daughter, and the
mother, nodding to the crowd around |
her, passed over to where she stood.
you are looking exquisite tonight,
DEAR" said the elder woman. And,
yet, there is something unusual about
you. What has happened? Is 1t pos
sible? You say that the heir to the
Vangreft millions has asked for your
hand! OF course you accepted? No?
Child, you have made an awful mis-
take. 1t must be that there is some
one else. All, young Howard. the ar
tist who paints those pretty pastelle
heads? But. my dear, he has next to
no money. Forget him, you must for
get him"
AS the woman moved away she
looked back once and she saw that the
| girls face was overshadowed with
gloom. The night no longer held any
happiness for her.
Mr.. Santelle shuddered slightly. but
\ L., IT, 80 -. -
| speedily forgot oil but her own proud
position as leader of society. tho
wife of a prominent statesman and
a reigning beauty. But suddenly, while
the mandolins dripped their sweet mu-
sic most tenderly, she started, paled
| quickly, and trembled on her partners
arm. Therein the misty corner of
she had known in the long ago-a face
/ CHASTITY and wan--touched with Grim
son and stamped with the mark of
death. She closed her eyes-opened
them again, but it was still there
menacing horrible!
There was sudden commotion; for
Mrs. Santelle had tainted. Quickly
her husband came to her. She awoke
to find him leaning over the divan
where she lay.
at is you," she said, with forced
smile. There is nothing serious the
matter-I fainted-that was all. 1t
was the heat Of the room.
please leave mel require moth
ing"
Alone with her own thoughts she
dreamed the old dream over again. So
long she had tried to forget, to put
the worldly mask Of pride over all
those tender, sad days, and yet, here
a little indisposition had brought the
haunting terror back to her again.
Well, If 1t must be, she would review
the dream, the dream of those days
when she was young, poor and am
bilious. Her beauty had then seemed
to her power beyond price, and she
had determined to aim for nothing
lower than the highest. And then that
handsome young West Pointer had
come into her life. She--yes. she
loved him, though she told herself
! she must stifie her love. And yet she
!, had smiled upon him. One day he
, said:
II can bear 1t no longer. You know
that / love you. Do you love me?
, must know that. Can you give up
your ambition for me--for love? l can
not eat of the fruit Of hope and de-
spair In this maddening alienation.
Tell me-yes or not" And she had shut
: her teeth and said mo" firmly, al
, though she knew she loved him well.
When she learned that he had shot
himself, she remained calm for few
: seconds and then fell to the floor In a
very delirium of pent-up terror.
, In the morning, wearing heavy
veil, she went to look upon his dead
face. All, the sight Of that white face
7 with the majesty of death upon I'll!
She would never forget that awful
picture. Why did that phantom come
out of the past tonight to reproach
her? Had she not made new life for
herself, buried Those old-time mem
cries, gratified all her ambitions, ev.
erything save love? Why had she
uIeaHneu tonight! was IL tne look on
her daughters face that had brought
about the coming of the dream? Would
Stella, too, live to repent?
She went out into the ballroom
again, radiant and beautiful as be-
fore. She waved her questioners
aside with her fan
THANK you, 1t was nothing. Only
fatigue, faintness, due to the heat"
But when Stella said softly: Glow
glad am that you are better, moth
|, err" she bent over her and whispered /:
Il have been thinking things over
r dear, and have changed my mind. You
: can tell Mr. Howard, my child, that
he can have you, if he has set his
8 heart upon you and you on him. There
/ are other and greater forms of happi,
r ness in this old world than can be won
4 by the possession of mere money. And
q wealth is but poor substitute for the
}. loss of true love. Greet him for me-