Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-01-08

was strained half-fearful wonder In
her face. For an instant she seemed
quite to have forgotten him in the
grip of some swift and painful
emotion. s'
"Illoved you, Judith" he stammered
in anguished appeal. From the time
W, We're boy and girl together, loved
you. You never cared for me
Sassoon and Valiant had the inside
track. You might have loved me: but
had no chance with either Of them.
Then came the duel. There was only
Valiant then. I overheard his promise
to you that night, Judith. He had
broken that! If you cared more for
him than for Sassoon, you might have
you! didn't want you to call him
back. Judith! I wanted my chance!
And sol took 1t. That's-the reason
dear lt's-it's bad one, isn't it,"
A SILVER went over her set face
like breath Of wind over tall grass,
and she seemed to come back from an
infinite distance to place and moment.
Between the curtains white butter
fly lowered an instant and in the
yard she heard the sound Of some
winged thing fluttering. The thought
darted to her that it was the sound Of
her own dead heart awaking. She
looked at the key and all at once put
a hand to her mouth as though to still
words clamoring there.
Judith" he said TREMENDOUSLY, be-
tween short struggles for breath, "all
these years, after found there was no
chance for me. reckon Tve-prayed
only one praper God. let it be Sas-
soon that she lovedn And I've prayed
that mighty near every day. The
thought that maybe 1t was Valiant has
haunted me like a ghost. You never
told-and I never dared ask you.
Judith"
Her face was still averted, and when
she did not speak he turned his head
from her on the pillow. with a breath
that was almost a moan. She started.
looking at him an instant In piteous
hesitation, then swiftly kissed the lit
tie key and closed her hand tight
upon it. Truth? She saw only the
pillow and the grazing face upon 1t!
She threw herself on her knees by the
couch and laid her lips on the pallid
forehead.
TIT was Sassoon. Monty" she
said, and her voice broke on the first
lie she had ever told.
"Thank Cod" he grasped 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 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.
mo" he said, in answer to her
look, "he won't rouse again"
'I will wait" she told him, and he
left her, shutting the door with care
full softness.
But the slight figure with it's silver
hair, sitting there. was not alone.
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 key that
her hand still clenched tightly In Its
palm.
There welled over her in tide those
days of puzzle, the weeks Of waiting
silence, the slow memorable months OF
heartache, 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 his
idea of manly honor! But this bit
terness had at length slipped away.
HE will WRITE" she had told herself,
land explain" But no word had come.
Whispers had fitted to her-the tale
of Sassoon's intoxication - singing
barbs that chung to Beauty Valiants
name. That these should rest unan'
swered had filled 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 it's wound and smiles. And
she had hidden her wound with flow
ers. But In the deepest well Of her
heart, her love for him had rested un'
changed, 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. 1t
held 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 go
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 way, 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. It was this face that was
printed on her heart, and when John
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