The Southern herald., 1915-08-20
CHAPTER xvI-cOntlnued.

CnAF En- NNl-SOubluuOus
1T was made in Vienna" interrupted
Frederick, not without a strange thrill
n satisfaction in his soul, "and before
YOU were married, I'd say. On the
hack Of It is written: TO my own
syeetheart'--in Hungarian, Yvonne
kays. There! Look at her. She was
like that when you married her God,
how adorable she must have been. To
nv own sweetheart Ho ho!"
A hoarse cry of rage and pain bust
from Broods lips. The world went red
before his eyes.
"'To my own sweetheart he cried
out. He sprang forward and struck
the photograph from Frederic's hand.
It fell to the floor at his feet. Before
the young man could recover from his
surprise, Brood's foot was upon the
BIT Of cardboard. Don't raise your
hand to me! Don't you dare to strike
me! Now l shall tell you who that
Sweetheart was!"
Half an hour later James Brood de.
BCended the stairs alone. He went
straight to the library where he knew
hat he could find Yvonne. Ranjab,
handing in the hall, peered into his
Ehite, drawn face as he passed, and
tarted forward as If to speak to him.
But Brood did not see him. He did
not lift his gaze from the floor. The
Hindu went swiftly up the stairs, q
deep dread in his soul.
The shades were down. Brood
stopped inside the door and looked
DULY about the library. He was on
the point of retiring when Yvonne
spoke to him out of the shadowy cor
ner beyond the fireplace.
Close the door," she said huskily,
Then she emerged slowly, almost like
specter, from the dark background
formed by the huge mahogany book
cases that lined the walls, from floor
to ceiling. "You were a long time
up there" she went on.
Why is it so dark in here, Yvonne?
he asked lifelessly.
so that it would not be possible fol
me to see the shame in your eyes
James"
He leaned heavily against the long
pble She came up and stood across
he table from him, and he felt thai
her eyes were searching his very soul
u have hurt him beyond all chance
Tor recovery" he said hoarsely
oh, you coward" she cried, lean
ing over the table, her eyes blazing
lean understand it in you. You have
no soul Of your own. What have yol
done to your son, James Brood?"
he drew back as If from the impac
Of blow, Coward? If l have crushed
DIS soul, 1t was done In time, Yvonne
% deprive you Of the glory of doing It,
What did he say to you about me?
You have had your fears for moth
ing. He did not put you in jeopardy,
ns said scornfully.
i know He is not coward" sh
paid calmly.
In your heart you are reviling me
lou Judge me as one guilty sou
Judges another. Suppose that l wer
Q confess to you that l left him u
Ihere with all the hope, all the lif
pasted out of his eyes-with woun
y his heart that will never stop bleed
Mg-that | left him because wa
prry for what l had done and coul
not stand by and look upon the wrec
had created. Suppose"
1 am still thinking of you as Gov
asd. What is it to me that you ar
sorry now? What have you done t
mat wretched, unhappy boy?"
He will tell you soon enough. The
!ou will despise me even more than
eespise myself. God He = h
iooked at me with his mothers eye
Wnen kept on striking blows at hi
gsry soul, Her eyes-eyes that wer
IWays pleading with mel But, ours
uem-always scoffing at me! For
Moment faltered. There was way
q loye-yes, love, not pity, for him
Us saw him go down before II
words hurled at him. 1t was as II
lad hurt the only thing in all II
world that love- Then it passed, f
sas not meant for me to love. He We
worn for me to despise. He was boz
y torture me as have tortured him
You poor fOol!" she cried. her ey'
slittering
sometimes l have doubted my oN
son" he went on as II he had n