The Springfield herald., 1913-03-21

speak to both, SO near the same time
one can. But this Is another thing
you must explain me. How Is 1t most
preferable to the lady. that one shall
write or shall come"
"Oh. write" said Margaret quickly.
Look" he exclaimed. "at the sun
set. All. is 1t not lovely?"
or a sudden they were looking, not
at the sunset, but into each others
eyes; and all about them was that
wonderful. transfguring glow. and 1t
seemed as II there were nothing In
the whole world that he had not said.
SIS 1t to the right, Herr Captaln?"
asked the driver turning on his seat
to divide a benign and senliintoxicat-
ed smile between them.
Then 1t was hardly a moment until
the yellow stucco of the pension
jumped at their eyes, around cor
ner; and there were the clergyman's
widow and the teacher at the door.
They fell upon the carriage in clam
or Of explanation and sympathy; they
were at her side when be bowed over
her hand and kissed 1t, saying, "Auf-
wiedersehen."
That was all. There was never any
more. He did not come again. Or II
he came. she was not there, since the
next day they were on their way to
Bremen, summoned by cable to her
sisters deathbed. She never heard
from him or of him again. Yet she
had left her American address with
his aunt for any letters that might
need to be forwarded, and stiff little
note of thanks and farewell-a per
fectly neutral note such as any friend
might give or receive. There followed
ness (the sister was a widow without
children, and she shared her estate
weeks crowded with sorrow and busi-
with her other sister); and Margaret
imputed her deep depression to these
natural and sufficient causes. She rat
ed herself for vanity in reading her
own meanings into courteous young
mans looks and his intelligent inter
est in national difference of manners.
She fostered her shame with the New
Engianders zest for self-torture. But
one afternoon, without warning, there
fell upon her deep and hopeless
peace 1t was as If some invisible
power controlled and changed all the
currents of her thought. She knew
that her friend was not faithless or
careless; he was dead. She began to
weep gently, thinking pitifully of his
old father with the loud voice. and his
fragile mother and the sister and
brother and the little nephew. Poor
people," she murmured, wishing. for
the first time In her life, to make
some sign of her sorrow for them to
them, she who always paid her toll Of
sym mpathy, but dreaded 1t and knew
that she was clumsy. She remem-
bered the day at the castle. and went
over again each word, each look. A
sensation that she could not under
stand, full of awe and sweetness. pos
sessed her 1t was indescribable, un-
thinkable, but it was also irresistible.
Under Its impulse she went to trunk
in another room, from which she had
not yet removed all the contents, and
took out her Heidelberg photographs.
She said to herself that she would
look at the scenes Of that day. In her
search she came upon a package OF
her own pictures which had come the
morning Of the day that she had gone.
| She could not remember any details
OF receiving them, except that she had
been at the photographers the day
before and paid for them. When they
came she was in too great agitation
(they were Just packing) to more than
fling them into tray. She could not
tell why she took the cartes out OF the
envelope and ran them listlessly
through her fingers; but at the last
of the package she uttered cry. The
last carte was picture of Max, with
the inscription in his own hand,
Thine for ever" 1t is not exact to
say that with the finding of the pic
ture her doubt of his affection for her
vanished; for in TRUTH, she had no
doubts, the possession was too abso-
lutte. But the sight came upon her as
the presence of a mortal being. alive
and visible, comes on one when he
enters a room. And there Is no ques-
tion that 1t was comfort; II she had
really loved Max, at this time, the
| knowledge of his death would have
been her cruelest shock; for then she
could have no hope to meet him again
In the world-no hope of some expla-
nation and the happiness of life to-
|
the young German. she was touched
| by his admiration, she admired him
tenderly, she felt the moving of sub
tie attraction which she called friend
ship and which might pass into a
keener feeling; but she did not love
him. Not then. Therefore, she felt
sweetness in her pain; she could re-
spect herself once more; she had
new and mystical Joy; for was she not
beloved above women? Had not her
lover come to her. through what
strange paths who may know, to COM
fort her? This is the story OF the
picture. She could not tell 1t. Nor
did she; but she hung Max's portrait
on the walls Of her little parlor; and
she hung opposite a picture of the
castle; and from that day, never a day
passed that 1t did not influence her.
She used to think her thoughts be-
fore it. She came to 1t with her grief
for the loss Of kindred and friends.
with her loneliness. with her ankle
ties, with her aspirations, her plans,
her cares for others, her slowly dawn.
Ing interests and affections. She was
a reticept woman, who might never