The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1914-10-23

dSO. ue CdieuudI Ou Liy ucSh hhS q
motto for each leaf. Today's is this !:
Every man carries his fate on a rib
and about ] Is neck Last night
would have miled at that. perhaps:
today l say TO myself, It's true-it's
true!' Two little hours ago l could
have sworn that whatever happened
to me Sassoon would suffer no harm.
Judith, could not avoid the meet
ing. You will know the circum-
stances, and will see that 1t was forced
upon me. But though we met on the
field, kept my promise. Sassoon did
not fall by my hand"
She had begun to tremble so that
the paper shook in her hands, and
from her breast, shattered by her
quick breathing, the brown jeesamine
petals busted down in her lap. 1t was
some moments before she could calp.
herself sufficiently to read on.
HE fired at the signal and the shot
went wide. l threw my pistol on the
ground. Then-whether maddened by
my refusal % fire, l cannot tell-he
turned his weapon all at once and shot
himself through the breast. 1t was
over in an instant. The seconds did
not guess-do not even now, for ii
happened but an hour ago. AS the
code DEGREES, their backs we're turned
when the shots were fired. But there
were circumstances l cannot touch
upon TO- you which made them disap
prove-which made my facing him
just then seem unchivalrous. l saw
1t In Bristow's face, and liked him the
better for it, even while it touched
my pride. They could not know, OF
course, that l did not intend to fire
Well, you and they will know 1t now!
And Bristow has my pistol; he will
find 1t undischarged - thank God
thank God
"But will that matter to you? II
you loved Sassoon, l shall always in
yoM mind stand as the indirect cause
of his death! 1t is for this reason.
am going away could not bear to
look in your accusing eyes and hear
you say 1t. Nor could / bear to stay
here, reminder to you of such q
hOAioA. IL yoa iONO liC, yOu Will WllJS
and call me back to you. Oh. Ju
dith, Judith, my own dear love!
pray God you Wilt"
She put the letter down and laid
her face upon 1t. Beauty! Beauty!'
she whispered, dry-eyed. II never
have made no difference, darling.
would have forgiven you anything
everything! You know that, now
dear! You have been certain of 1t all
these years that have been SO empty
empty to mel"
But when the faded rose-colored
gown and the poor time-yellowed slip
pers had been laid back in the hair
cloth trunk; when, her door once more
unbolted, she lay in her bed in the din
glow Of the reading-lamp, with hel
curling silvery hair drifting across the
pillow and the letter beneath 1t, a,
last the tears came coursing down heI
cheeks.
And with the loosening of her tears
gradually and softly came joy-infi
nitely deeper than the anguish and
sense Of betrayal. It poured upon hel
like trembling food. Long. long age
he had gone out Of the world-it was
only his memory that counted to her
Now that could no longer spell pair
or emptiness or denial. 1t was engoid
ened by a new light, and In that ligh,
she would walk gently and smilingly
to the end.
She found the slender golden chair
that hung about her neck and opened
the little black locket with It's circlet
of laureled pearls. And as she gazed al
the face 1t held, which time had not
touched with change, the sound Of
Shirley's harp came softly in through
the window. She was playing an old
fashioned song. of the sort she knew
her mother loved best:
Darling, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold
Shine upon my brow today;
Life is fading fast away.
But, my darling, you will be
Always young and fair to me.
Outside the leaves rustled, the birds
called and the crickets sang their un
ending epithalamia Of summer nights
and on this tone-background the mel
ody rose tenderly and lingeringly like
a haunting perfume of pressed flowers
She smiled and lifted the locket to hel
face, whispering the words Of the re
frain:
Yes. my darling, you will be
Always young and fair to mel
The smile was still on her lips wher
she fell asleep, and the little locket
still lay In her fingers.
CHAPTER xxxiv.