Tensas gazette. [volume] (St. Joseph, La.) 1886-current, 1914-01-09

Gregory's brain. What a hooking ia
tality. that it should have been Grace
to send Robert on his terrible Grand
an errand which must result in ruin.
Mrs. Gregory would be pitied when
it became known how she had been de-
ceived; Fran would be pitied because
she was a disowned daughter; Grace
would be pitied for trusting in the in
tesrity of her employer-but Gregory.
who of all Lsen needed pity most.
would be utterly despised. He did not
think of himself alone. but of his works
of charity-they. too. would fall. in his
disgrace, and Walnut Street church
even religion itself-would be dis
credited because of an exposure that
could avail nothing.
Gregory had been too long proclaim
ing the living God not to feel Him as
Presence, and in this Presence he
felt a shuddering fear that could sug-
gest no relief but Precipitation. He as
well as Abbott Ashton had kept him
self informed of Roberts movements
as far as they were known to Miss
Sapphire, hence the day of Roberts
return found his thought of atonement
at its most frenzied stage.
As evening wore on. he made up his
mind to the fatal step.
Before Robert could oppose him,
Gregory would confess. Now that
the last hour had come. he sought his
wife, Keeling like a sick man as he
descended the hall stairs.
Mrs. Gregory was softly playing an
old hymn, when he discovered her
presence in the brilliantly lighted par
lor. Grace was expecting visit from
Clinton and had made the room cheer
full for his coming. and Mrs. Gregory.
looking III and finding no one present,
had sunk upon the stool before the
piano. She did not see her husband.
for her face was bent low as she feel
ingly played. Il Need Thee Every
Hour"
Gregory, well-nigh overwhelmed
with the realization Of what he meant
to do, grasped the door for support.
Presently he spoke, brokenly, Lucy.
how true that is-we do. indeed. need
Him every hour"
| She did not start at his voice, though
his presence had been upsuspected.
She raised her serious eyes. and OBJ
served his haggard face. mr.. Greg
DRY. you are ILL.,"
"No-the light hurts my eyes" He
turned of the lights and drew q chair
near her. The room was partly re
vealed by an electric arc that swung
at the street corner-its mellowed
beams entered the open window
Lucy, have something very impor
tant to say to you"
Her fingers continued to wander
among the keys, making the hymn
barely audible, then letting it die
away, only to be revived.
Lucy. have never spoken Of this
before, but it has seemed to me fol-
a long time that we have wandered
rather far apart-yes, very far apart
We sit ulose together, alone, our hands
could touch, but our souls live in diff
way?"
She ceased playing abruptly. and
ferent worlds. Do you ever feel that
answered almost in whisper. Yes. >
perhaps 1t is my fault" said Greg
ory, although I know that II you had
taken more interest in what interests
me, II you had been true to the Faith
as have tried to be-"
Il have been true to you." said Mrs
Gregory.
"Of course-of course-there is nc
question of our being true to each
other. l feel that l am not wholly tc
blame. Lucy. 1t has been my fauli
and, it has been your fault-that II
how I look at it."
There was silence, then she said
There seems nothing to be done"
How do you mean? You speak al
IL our love we're dead and buried"
She rose abruptly. saying. And it
grave unmarked"
sit down. LUCY haven't told 20,
what came to tell-you must lister
and try to. see it as ! see 1t. Let Vi
be reasonable and discuss the futur'
in Ain a sensible and matter-of-fac
way. II you will agree"
II will not agree to it," she answered
firmly. Let me go, Mr.. Gregory
there is no need ever to bring up tina
, subject"
He had risen, and now in blanl
ouooouapt ho cforod af her reneat