The Washington times., 1913-08-13

I things she would not MIND II ne ldileu
to be that without which all the Others
| were mere empty terms between them
lover!
Come here. into the light, Philip.
| Let me look at you. she said. drawing
him forward. Your face is very
| white"
1t is only the moonlight. dear" he
protested.
You are sure that you love me. only
NE. and that you really wish me to be
your wife?''
| Every sure"
| oh. Phil!" cried the girl. with a lit
| tie movement of lassitude. the tension
under which she had Iabored relaxing
for the moment. Il am so miserable
and-sO happy
Her head sank forward, he caught
| her in his arms and she burst into a
! food Of tears on his shoulder. She
j was SO young and she had no mother.
| The man held her against his breast.
that fraiI, slender figure. and thanked
| God that he had had the courage to
| withhold the truth from her. He
swOrC in his heart of hearts that that
| which he had been committed to him
| he would cherish in his soul. BY and
! by he lifted her up and carried her TO
| ono Of the sofas and laid her down upon
! II and badc her rest. He sat beside
her and held her slender hand. prom
| Using that he would not leave her alone
the long night. and kissed her often
and spoke 20 her tenderly, and watch
ed her fall asleep He sat there in 81
lence with the little hand clasped III
his stronger one. If he moved to re-
lease her hand. without awakening, she
held him with sudden instructive
tightening of her grasp. He was
bound. The hand of the woman who
was to be his Child-wife, 10 whom n"
was about to give the protection of his
name, the woman who loved him. hell
him fast, asleep. awake. in life. in
death-fOrever,
Grafton was not vain. but there had
been illumination even to so modest "A
soul as his in her look. in her voice, in
her bearing in that dark room that
told him what depth of passion, what
wealth of affection would be his as the
child ripened into womanhoOd Yet,
clasping the hand of the girl, his
thoughts went back 10 the old farm I
house in the pleasant Pennsylvania
hills. to the bright. proud, splendid face
of the woman Nho had Knocked him and
cast him off in scorn. He would be
Ariadne's husband, he would be to her
all that a man could be with his heart
forever given to the woman of the
North the girl with the smiling mouth,
the red lips, the bright hair, the mock
ing laugh, But il VISA hard. He could
not realize what il meant; neither what
he had lost nor what he had gained.
So through the long hours In one
chamber of tn" house affection watched
death. while in another sadness brood |
-
And what would be tn" end? Philip |
hoped, he could only hope-that was
all.
But that slender child. whose uneasy
breathing marked hey restless slumber.
WIS not Of a race which is content with
half 4 heart, and such devotion as she
gave TO him could be fairly met and
measured by nothing save IN equal re-
turn. That did not occur 10 hT. th"n,
but some day he would awake to the
kn1wledge She would learn il perhaps
and then-her heart 'v"uld break
The gray light of the cool dawn VAS
lust stealing through the openings OF
the Venetian blinds when ArIadme awOke
10 hear carriage stop on IN" gravel
driveway before the door. The good old
bishop, appriSed Of the urgency Of the
case. had not waited until morning, but
bad come 1t once to marry his young
friend and see his old friend die. The
DOCTOR TOO, weary with his long vigil. !
had heard the sound. HIS exit into the
hall and the voice Of the venerable old
man. even though h" spoke softly as he
entered the door and asked how did his
ancient friend. awakened III" jude.
moment and the Bishop alone ell
tered the room and knclt praying b"sid" !
the. diving man. The bishop mad lived
many years and had served much. Ills
own race was nearly run. IN" meeting
between tn" two old friends Vas tender, |
th, one almost over the threshold, the
other approaching the door. They had
NM. TO say to each other and their i'll !
',ry ew vas soon over. IN" bishop call !
eel the do tor and he summoned Ariad- |
ne and Philip.
lie is awake?' asked the girl.
Yes" answered tho physician, but |
there is Iit,l. time to lose
Hand in hand the two young people |
entered the room.
1T was a maTN elous dTauEht, said |
the iudr.. fa,ntly. and they wcr" Sho"k- |
ed d., the Chang. ia him. Il thank you
Yes, grandfather" said the girl. night
in" for her courage again.
''Readv. sIr" said Philip.
"William." said the judge. turhing t. !
tn. bishop. his hoyh0od friend.
Yes. Henry" answered the preatc.
= am dvug-yOu knOw-and before |
e. | wish YOU /" marry-Ariadnc and |
PM herr-aS YOU married meas YOU !
married her mother.
lis il vour wish. too. my dcar?' asked |
the yencrahI" bishop.
Yes bishop
And yours, Philip"
Yes. bishop Meade"
The bishop rose and opened the we'll |
worn prayer book which WAS his con
slant companion.
wait" said the judge: Il have but |
I!ttIe time. butt shall last this out |
Your robes of office. VIII. | remembed- !
how you looked when-I stood before
y"u-years ago. You were not-a bishop |
then
The doctor had hastencd out at the
mdEe's word and came bark bringin-; ,
the bishops robe case. Swiftly, but |
with fingers that trembIed not SO much