Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1914-05-22
h had ever IoId-

lie u mad ever toio.
THANK Godi" he gasped. He strug-
gled to raise himself on his elbow,
then suddenly the strength faded out
and he settled back.
Her cry brought the doctor. but this
time the restorative seemed of no
avail, and after a time he came and
touched her shoulder. With a last
long look at the ash-pale face on the
settee she followed him from the room.
In the yellow parlor he put her into a
chair.
NO." he said. In answer to her look,
''he won't rouse again"
Il will wait" she told him, and he
left her, shutting the door with care
full ~softness.
But the slight figure with its silver
hair. sitting there, was not alonel
Ghosts were walking up and down.
Not the misty wraiths John Valiant
had at times imagined went fitting
along the empty corridors, but faces
very clear In the sunlight, that came
and went with the memories SO long
woven over by the shuttle OF time
evoked now by the touch of a key that
her hand still clenched tightly In its
palm.
There welled over her in a tide those
days of puzzle, the weeks of waiting
silence, the slow inexorable months of
h~eartache, the long years that had
deepened the mystery of Beauty Vail
ants exile. In the first shock of the
news that Sassoon had fallen by his
hand, she had thought she could not
forgive him that broken faith. She
and his promise to her had not weighed
in the balance against the idea of
manly "honorl" But this bitterness
had at length slipped away. HE will
WRITE" she had told herself, land ex-
plain" But no word had come. Whisl
pers had fitted to her-the tale of
S~assoon's Observation-Disclosures barbs
that chung to Beauty Valiant's name.
That these should rest unanswered
had filed her with resentment and
anger. Slowly, but with deadly surety,
had grown the belief that he no longer
cared. In the end there had been left
her only pride-the pride that covers
its wound and smiles. And she had
hidden her wound with flowers. But
in the deepest well of her heart her
love for him had rested unchanged,
clear and defined as a moss in amber,
wrapped in that mystery Of silence.
In the little haircloth trunk back In
her room lay an old scrap-book. It
held a few leaves torn from letters and
many newspaper clippings. From
these she had known of his work, his
marriage, the great commercial sue
cess for which his name had stood
the name that from the day of his 60
Ing. she had so seldom taken upon her
lips. Some of them had dealt with
his habits and idiosyncrasies, hints of
an altered personality, and aloofness
or loneliness that had set him apart
and made him, in a way, q stranger to
those who should have known him
best. Thus her mind had come to
hold a double image: The grave man
these Swallowed forth, and the man
she had loved, whose youthful face was
In the locket she wore always on her
breast. 1t was this face that was
printed on her heart, and when John
Valiant had stood before her on the
porch at Rosewood, it had seemed to
have risen, instinct, from that old
grave.
He had not kept silence! He had
written! 1t pealed through her brain
like a mufied bell. But Beauty Vail
ant was gone with her youth; in the
room near by lay that old companion
who would never speak to her again,
the lifelong friend-who had really
failed her thirty years ago! . :.
and In a tin box a mile away lay a let
ter.
"He won't rouse again." the doctor
had said, but a little later, as he and
Valiant sat beside the couch, the major
opened his eyes suddenly.
Shirley" he whispered. where's
Shirley"
She was sitting on the porch just
outside the open window, and when
she entered, tears we're on her face.
The doctor drew back silently; but
when Valiant would have done so, the
major called him nearer.
NO." he painted; II like to see you
two together" His voice was very
weak and tired.
AS she leaned and touched his hand,
he smiled whimsically. Its mighty
curious" he said, "but I can't get it
out of my head that it's Beauty Vail
ant and Judith that I'm really talking
to. Foolish-isn't it," But the idea
seemed to master him, and presently
he began to call Shirley by her moth
er's name. An odd youthfulness crept
into his eyes; a subtle ~paradoxical
boyishness. His cheek tinged with
color. The deep lines about his mouth
smoothed m~iraculously out.
Judith" he whispered, "-you-
sure you told me the truth a while ago,
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