The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1916-09-14
by JOHN A. MITCHELL
Copyright. 1911,
Nv John A. Mitchell.
Continued from our last issne.)


Octavia moved impatiently.
Those tales | have heard. They
are interesting samples OF what
ignorant people can believe. All
that we know Is this: Years ago,
grandfather second wife, a mere
girl of eighteen, was sitting one
evening with the rest of the fam
lily in the library here at the castle
when she laid down her needle
work and walked out on the ter
race. My two great aunts Who
were sitting in the room with her
saw my grandfather pass through
the hall, a moment afterward, as
IL following her. She never re-
turned. She was never seen again
by any of the family; nor by any
body we know.
when my grandfather return
ed, two or three hours later, he
seemed a different man. He had
lost all power of speech. And
during the 80 years and more that
have followed he has never been
seen to smile"
"She was your grandmother"
ooh, no! She was grandfather's
second wife-and much younger
than himself"
WAS she pretty, this runaway
LADY,"
"Oh, remarkably pretty! Her
portrait, for years, hung over the
mantel In my chamber. 1t was a
gentle, lovable face"
Octavia rose as If to go.
please tarry-just a little. l
have something of great import
ance to say to you. I have a
strange presentment, an unae-
countable, overmastering conyic-
ton, that Pandora over there has
a precious communication for you,
and she is waiting for you to take
It,"
Octavia, reaching up hand, in
serted her fingers cautiously in
the marble box. Encountering a
piece of folded note paper she
brought it forth. Her smile de-
parted as, in silence, she read
these lines:
TO MY OWN
Nothing, dearest, US shall sever,
Heart to heart, and parting never,
OF all earthly hopes and blisses,
or all dreams the sweetest this is,
Just our Kosyie Benche with
moonlight
And a garden breathing kisses.
From her False Poet. but
"Trew Lovir,"
e. L.
I With burning cheeks she rose
from her seat. The paper dropped
from her fingers. Instead of reach
ing the floor it fluttered into the
garden basket on the bench beside
her. She stood for an instant,
erect, uncertain. All pride of a
reserved and sensitive spirit was
in high revolt. In a low voice,
with a slight tremor, she asked
still hoping there was some mis-
take:
did you write it,"
"Does not the signature tell who
wrote it?"
In silence Octavia took up hel
basket. Her sorrow - her disap'
pointment in this man-was even
deeper than her anger. She suf
fered - keenly suffered - under
the sudden realization that, after
all, he was not gentlemtn. thai
he knew no better, and that she
herself was to blame in permit
ting such advances. Without fur
Their words she walked away.
Fastening to her chamber she
dropped into the nearest chair
Then, with an elbow on the table
her chin in a hand, she thought
and thought.
The more she thought, tn,
more she wavered. Then, like al
imp of evil, came dancing through
her head,
breathing kisses"
il Octavia made serious effort
during the day to think no NOR
of this despised American, thi
hero of common clay.
In the afternoon, she walked t
the village to attend little meet
ing of the library committee, ant
as she walked she despised her
self for allowing the memory o
this tactless foreigner to Absorb
her thoughts.
|! From these self reproaches sh,
was suddenly awakened, on thu
main street of the village, b!
1.-THE unexpected appearance OF thu
invader himself. Both he and DC
tavia, in their surprise stopped
short, and only few feet apart.
For an instant they confronted
each other in silence. Then thu
lady, with her perfunctory smil,
and a polite but formal word o
greeting, started forward. He tool
a backward step, still standing il
her way. Octaria, raising her eye
brows as IL in mild surprise
Hooked calmly into his face-suel
look as the queen of Sheb;
might best,w upon a puddle II
the street, or any other obstacl,
. of similar Importance. But tn,
. ltactless American stood undis
mayed. He looked as calmly int
her own eyes as she into his
land spoke:
sit surely is not impertinent
Lady Octavia. to ask what | hav'