Gilpin observer., 1914-07-30

dSo! ue CdieuudT Oh my QeSk mas
motto for each leaf. Today's is this:
Every man carries his fate on rib
| and about his neck Last night
would have smiled at that, perhaps;
1 today / 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. l could not avoid the meet
| ing. You will know the circum-
stances, and will see that it 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 jessamine
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 ! threw my pistol ON the
ground. Then-whetber maddened by
my refusal to fire, | 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 it
happened but an hour ago. AS the
code DEGREES, their backs were turned
when the shots were fired. But there
were circumstances / cannot touch
upon to you which made them disap-
prove-which made my facing him
just then seem unchivalrous. / saw
1t in Bristow's face, and liked him the
better for 1t. even while 1t touched
my pride. They could not know, Of
course, that l did not intend to fire.
Well. you and they will know it now!
And Brietow has my pistol; he will
find 1t undischarged = thank God
thank God.
But will that matter to you? II
you loved Sassoon, shall always in
your 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 it. Nor could bear to stay
here, reminder to you OF such
horror. II you love me, you will write
and call me back to you. Oh, Ju-
dith, Judith, my own dear love! l
pray God you will"
She put the letter down and laid
her face upon it. Beauty! Beauty!"
she whispered. dry-eyed. Il never
knew! l never knew! But 1t would
have made no difference. darling.
would have forgiven you anything
everything! You know that, now,
dear! You have been certain of it 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 dim
| glow Of the reading-lamp. with her
curling silvery hair drifting across the
pillow and the letter beneath 1t. at
last the tears came coursing down her
| cheeks.
And with the loosening of her tears.
gradually and softly came joy-infi-
nitely deeper than the anguish and
sense Of betrayal. 1t poured upon her
like a trembling flood. Long. long ago
he had gone out OF the world-it was
only his memory that counted to her.
Now that could no longer spell pain
or emptiness or denial 1t was engold-
ened by new light. and in that light
she would walk gently and smilingly
| to the end.
She found the slender golden chain
that hung about her neck and opened
the little black locket with its circlet
OF laureled pearls. And as she gazed at
the face 1t held. which time had not
touched with change, the sound of
Shirleys harp came softly in through
the window. She was playing an old
fashioned song, OF the sort she knew
her mother loved best:
Darling, / 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
haunting perfume of pressed flowers.
She smiled and lifted the locket to her
face. whispering the words OF the re.
frain:
Yes. my darling. you will be
Always young and fair to me.
The smile was still on her lips when
she fell asleep. and the little locket
still lay In her fingers.
CHAPTER xxxIv.
| When the Clock StruckA