The Southern herald., 1913-04-18

IneY Iell upuu bAT
or of explanation and sympathy; they
we're at her side when he bowed over
her hand and kissed 1t, saying "Aul-
That was all. There was never any
more. He did not come again. VT
he came, she was not there, since the
next day they were on their way 10
Bremen, summoned by cable 10 hel
SISTERS deathbed. She never heaFu
from him or Of him again. Yet she
had left her American address with
his aunt for any letters that mignt
need to be forwarded, and stin little
note of thanks and farewell per,
fectly neutral note such as any frlenu
might give or receive. There followed
ness Cthe sister was a widow without
children, and she shared her estate
weeks crowded with sorrow and busl-
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
Englander's zest for self-torture. But
one afternoon, without warning, there
fell upon her a 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 MS
fragile mother and the sister and
brother and the little nephew. Poor
people, she murmured, wishing, tor
the first time in her life, to make
some sign Of her sorrow for them to
them, she who always paid her toll OF
sympathy, 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 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-
ton that 1t was comfort; if 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.
gether But she was not in love with
the young German, she was touched
by his admiration, she admired him
tenderly, she felt the moving Of a 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 a
sweetness in her pain; she could re
spect herself once more; she had q
new and mystical Joy; for was she moi
beloved above women? Had not hel
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 it. MOI
did she; but she hung Max's portrait
on the walls of her little parlor; ant
she hung opposite a picture of the
castle; and from that day, never a da,
passed that 1t did not influence her
she used to think her thoughts he
lore 1t. She came to it with her grie
ror the loss Of kindred and friends
with her loneliness, with her ankle
'ies' with her aspirations, her plans
her cares for others, her slowly dawn
ng interests and affections. She wal
a reroent woman, who might neve
nave allowed her heart to expand Il
he' husb7ad himself, beyond a certain
unit but she hid nothing from MAY
Ia time she fell into the habit Of talk
.nF 70 the picture. She called hin
Max The first time she spoke hi
lams . she blushed. She made her to,
lets for him more than for the world
Dut whether Max could admire ther
OF not 1t is certain that the girls kney
d every chaDoo L. - DS