Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1915-05-19

| the light color coming and going IN
her delicate cheek, lost in revery. Ii
was not till the hall-clock struck her
usual hour that she rose to go to her
room.
Don't send Emmaline," she said.
81 shan't want her" She kissed Shlr-
ley good night. Maybe after a while
you will sing for me; you haven't
| played your harp for ever so long.
In the subdued candle-light Mrs.
cambridge locked the door OF her
room. She opened closet, and from
the very bottom of small haircloth
trunk. lifted and shook out from it's
many tissue wrappings a faded gown
of rose-colored silk, with pointed bod
ice and old-fashioned puf-sleeves. She
spread this on the bed and laid with it
a pair of yeIlowed satin slippers and
a little straw basket that held spray
of what had once been cape jessa-
| mine.
In the Pickering light she undressed
and rearranged her hair, catching It's
silvery curling meshes in a low soft
coil. Looking almost furtively about
her. she put on the rose-colored gown,
! and pinned the withered flower-spray
on it's breast. She lighted more
candles-in the wall-brackets and on
the dressing-t the reading
| lamp on the desk. Standing before
her mirror then, she gazed long at the
refection-the poor faded rose-tlnt
against the pale ivory of her slender
neck, and the white hair. A little
culver ran over her lips.
Whatever the fact she whispered,
"s you and no other as long
as l live"
She unlocked the bureau-drawer
then, took out the letter, and seating
herself by the table, read the remain
der:
81 write this in the old library and
Bristow holds my horse by the porch.
He will give you this letter when l
am gone.
Last night we were dancing-all
of us-at the ball. l can scarcely be-
lieve it was less than twelve hours
ago! The calendar on my desk has a
motto for each leaf. Today's is this:
Every man carries his fate on rib
and about his neck Last night l
would have smiled 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 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 cal1l
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 to 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 it
happened but an hour ago. AS the
code DEGREES, their backs were 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
it in Bristow's face, and liked him the
60 cd
my pride. They could not know, of
course, that l did not intend to fire.
Well, you and they will know it now!
And Bristow has my pistol; he will
find it undischarged No. thank God,
thank God!
But will that matter to you? If
you loved Sassoon, l shall always in
your mind stand as the indirect cause
of his death! 1t is for this reason l
am going away could not bear to
look in your accusing eyes and hear
you say it. Nor could I bear to stay
here, reminder to you of such a
horror. If you love me, you will write
and call me back to you. Oh, Ju-
dith, Judith, my own dear love! I
pray God you wilt"
She put the letter down and laid
her face upon it. Beauty! Beauty!"
she whispered, dry-eyed. 81 never
knew! l never knew! But it 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 it, at
last the tears came coursing down her
cheeks.
And with the loosening of her tears,