Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-09-10
BY =
HulNe 6rul>z1e tires
cabyl1s1< ~ 6oAds-<zar~>0 o..

a motto for each leaf. Today's is
this: Every man carries his fate on
a riband about his neck Last night
I would have smiled at that. per-
haps; today / say to myself, It's true
its true.' Two little hours ago /
could have sworn that whatever hap
pened to me, Sassoon would suffer
no harm.
Judith, 1 could not avoid the meet
ing. You will know the circum-
stances, and will see that it was
forced upon me. But though we met
on the field, l kept my promise.
Sassoon did not fall by my hands"
She had begun to tremble so that
the paper shook in her hands. and
from her breast, shattered by her
quick breathing, the brown jessa-
mine petals busted down in her lap.
1t was some moments before she
could calm herself sufficiently to
read on.
"He fired at the signal and the shot
went wide. / threw my pistol on the
ground. Then-whether maddened by
my refusal to fire, | can not tell-he
turned his weapon all at once and
shot himself through the breast. 1t
was over in an instant. The seconds
did not guess-do not even now, for
ii happened but an hour ago. AS
the code DEGREES. their backs were
turned when the shots were fired.
But there were circumstances l can
not touch upon to you which made
them disapproye-which made my
facing him just then seem unchival-
rous. | saw it in Bristow's face, and
liked him the better for it, even while
it touched my pride. They could
not know, of course that / did not
intend to fire. Well, you and they
will know it now! And Bristow has
my pistol, he will find it undis-
charged-thank God, thank God!
But will that matter to you? If
you loved Sassoon, I shall always in
your mind stand az the indirect cause
of his death! 1t is for this reason
] am going away-I could not bear
to look in your accusing eyes and
hear you say it, Nor could I bear
to stay here, a reminder to you of
such a horror. IL you love me, you
will write and call me back to you.
oh, Judith. Judith, my own dear
love. ] pray God you willl'
She put the letter down and laid
her face upon it, Beauty! Beauty"
she whispered, dry-eyed. "1 never
knew! | never knew! But it would
have made no difference, darling.
would have forgiven you anything
CNCi tiihS. Lou hHOW that, HOW,
dear! You have been certain of it
all these years that have been so
empty, empty to met"
But when the faded rose colored
gown and the poor time-yellowed slip
pers had been laid back in the hair
cloth trunk; when. her door once
more unbolted, she lay in her bed
In the dim glow of the reading-lamp,
with her curling silvery hair drifting
across the pillow and the letter be-
meath it, at last the tears came
coursing down her cheeks.
And with the loosening of her tears,
gradually and softly came joy-in-
| finitely deeper than the anguish and
sense of betrayal. It poured upon
her like a trembling flood. Long,
long ago he had gone out of the
world-it was only his memory that
counted to her. Now that could no
longer spell pain or emptiness or
denial. 1t was engoldened by new
light, and in that light she would
walk gently and smilingly to the
end
She found the slender golden chain
that hung about her neck and opened
the little black locket with its circlet