The Raymer enterprise., 1914-01-01

So long as Edith is well-Doris!
Doris You alarm me. Edith is not
ill--not ill?"
The poor child could not answer
save with her sympathetic look and
halting, tremulous breath; and these
signs, he would not, could not read,
his own words had made such an echo
In his ears.
Ill! cannot imagine Edith III. I
always see her in my thoughts, as I
saw her on that day of our first meet.
ing; perfect. animated woman with
the joyous look of a glad. harmonious
nature. Nothing has ever clouded
that vision. If she were Ill | would
have known It. We are so truly one
that-Doris, Doris, you do not speak.
You know the depth of my love, the
terror Of my thoughts. Is Edith ill.,"
The eyes gazing wildly into his.
slowly left his face and raised them.
selves aloft. with a sublime look.
Would he understand? Yes. he un-
derstood. and the cry which rang from
his lips stopped for a moment the
beating of more than one heart In that
little cottage.
Dead" he shrieked, and fell back
fainting in his chair. his lips still
murmuring in semi-unconsciousne
Dead! dead!"
Doris sprang to her feet, thinking
Of nothing but his wavering, slipping
life till she saw his breath return, his
eyes refill with light
But the rest must be told; his
brother exacted 1t and so did the sit.
uation. Further waiting, further hid
ing Of the truth would be insupport-
| able after this. But oh, the bitterness
Of II! No wonder that she turned
away from those frenzied, wildly-de.
manding eyes.
"Doris?"
She trembled and looked behind
her. She had not recognized his
voice. Had another entered? Had
his brother dared-No. they we're
alone: seemingly SO. that is. She
knew-no one better-that they were
not really alone. that witnesses we're
within hearing, II not within sight.
Doris" he urged again, and this
time she turned in his direction and
gazed, aghast. II the voice were
strange, what Of the face which now
confronted her. The ravages Of sick
ness had been marked, but they were
nothing TO those made In an In.
stant by q blasting grief. She was
startled, although expecting much.
and could only press his hands while
, she waited for the question he was
gathering strength to utter. 1t was
simple when 1t came; just two words
How long?"
She answered them as simply:
Just as long as you have been ILL.,"
said she; then. with no attempt to
break the inevitable shock, she went
on: Miss Challoner was struck dead
and you were taken down with ty-
phoid on the self-same day"
Struck dead! Why do you use
that word, struck? Struck dead! she.
a young woman. Oh, Doris, an acct.
dent! My darling has been killed in
an accident"
They do not call 1t accident They
call 1t what 1t never was. What 1t
never was" she insisted. pressing him
back with frightened hands, as he
strove to rise. Miss Challoner was"
How nearly the word shot had left
her lips. How fiercely above all else.
in that narrowing moment had risen
the desire to fling the accusation Of
that word into the ears of him who
listened from his secret hiding place
She refrained out Of compassion for
the man she loved. and declared in
stead. Miss Challoner died from a
wound; how given. why given. no one
knows. ! had rather have died my
self than have to tell you this. Oh.
Mr.. Brotherson, speak. sob. do any
thing but"
She started back. dropping his
hands as she did 80. With quick intu-
ition she saw that he must be left to
himself II he were to meet this blow
without succumbing. The body must
have freedom II the spirit would not
go mad. Conscious, or perhaps not
conscious, Of his release from her re-
straining hand. albeit profiting by It.
he staggered to his feet, murmuring
that word Of doom: Wound! wound!
my darling died of a wound! What
kind Of wound?" he suddenly thun.
dered out. Il cannot understand what
you mean by wound. Make 1t clear to
me. Make 1t clear to me at once. II
| must bear this grief. let me know
Its whole depth. Leave nothing to my
Imagination or | cannot answer for
myself. Tell 1t all. Doris"
And Doris told him:
She was on the mezzanine floor
Of the hotel where she lives. She
was seemingly happy and had been
writing letter-a letter to me which
they never forwarded. There was
no one else by but some strangers-
good people whom one must believe.
She was crossing the floor when sud.
denly she threw up her hands and