The Rice belt journal. (Welsh, Calcasieu Parish, La.) 1900-19??, 1915-09-24
CHAPTER vi.
The SPREADING Glow.

YVonne Lestrange, in way, had
been born to purple and fine linen. She
had never known deprivation Of any
description. Neither money, position
nor love had been denied her during
the few years in which her charm and
beauty had flashed across the great
European capitals, penetrating even to
the recesses of royal courts. 1t Is
doubtful If James Brood knew very
much concerning her family when he
proposed marriage to her, but 1t is GER
tain that he did not care. He first saw
her at the home Of British nobleman,
but did not meet her. Something In
the vivid, brilliant face of the woman
made deep and lasting impression
on him. There was an instant when
their eyes met through an opening in
the throng which separated them. He
was not only conscious Of the fact that
he was staring at her, but that she
was looking at him in a curiously pene-
trating way. There was hooking
smile on her lips at the time. He saw
it fade away, even as the crowd came
between. He knew that the smile had
not been intended for him, but for
some of the eager cavaliers who sur
rounded her, and yet there was some
thing singularly direct in the look she
gave him.
That single glance in the dukes
house proved to be fateful one for
both. They were married inside of a
month. The virile, confident American
had conquered where countless sup
plants of a more or less noble char
acter had gone down to defeat.
He asked but one question of her,
she asked none of him. The fact that
she was the intimate friend and asso-
ciate of the woman in whose home he
met her, was sufficient proof of her
standing in society, although that
would have counted for little so far as
Brood was concerned.
She was the daughter of baron;
she had spent much Of her life in
Paris, coming from st. Petersburg
when a young girl; and she was an
orphan with an independent fortune of
her own. Such common details as
these came to Brood In the natural
way and we're not derived from any eff.
fort on his part to secure information
concerning Mademoiselle Lestrange.
Like the burnt child, he asked ques-
ton which harked back to an unfor-
gotten pain.
"Have you ever loved man deeply,
devotedly, Yvonne-so deeply that
there is pain in the thought of him?"
She replied without hesitation.
There Is no such man, ames. You
may be sure Of that"
81 am confident that can hold your
love against the future, but no man is
vital enough to compete with the past.
Love doesn't really die, you know. II
man cannot hold woman's love
against all newcomers, he deserves to
lose it. 1t doesn't follow, however, that
he can protect himself against the
man who appears out of the past and
claims his own"
"You speak as though the past had
played you an evil trick" she said
He did not mince words. Years
ago man came out of the past and
took from me the woman / loved and
cherished"
"Your-your wife," she asked in
voice suddenly lowered.
Eyes," he said quietly.
She was silent for long time. Il
wonder at your courage in taking the
risk again" she said.
II think wonder at 1t myself" said
he. mo, am not afraid" he went on,
as If convincing himself that there
was no risk. Il shall make you love
me to the end, Yvonne. | am not
afraid. But why do you not ask ne
for all the wretched story?'
ITO BE CONTINUED