The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1917-03-22

me STOCKINGS or six. also the lace fan
and the silver band for the hair. There
upon / walked TO my mirror and COM
Menced to make toilet of great care.
bu- Of great rapidly.
My first action vas to take down that
iovclock and with the oil Of roses to
lay it in its accustomed place upon my
cheek. which burned with a beautiful
reese Of shame and at the same mo-
neut with some other emotion that
did not understand, which emotion also
made my eyes as bright as the night
stars out in that Camp Heaven. The
silver band held closely the rest of my
mop and gave it the appearance Of the
very close couture which is the fash
ion Of this day. and one very sweet
young rose I put into it just above the
curl with an effect of great and wicked
beauty.
The Couture having been accomplish
ed, the rest of the toilet from the slip
pers Of the cloth of silver to the edge
of fine old lace. now the color of rich
cream, that rested upon my white
arms and shoulders. was only a mat
ter Of few moments. and then stood
away from my mirror and beheld my
self therein
You are as beautiful as you are
wicked, Roberta. maTQuiSe of GREE and
Bye. but you 90 to your death in a
manner BETTING a Crande dame of
your ancient house of France, whose
daughters once showed the rabble how
to approach a guillotine costumed in
magniticence. Descend for that cold
knife to your heart" And so speak
ing picked up my fan and made my
way through the hall to the halfway of
the wide steps. At that point a COM
motion occurred.
"Lordee! It's the old lady come to
ha'nt.' exclaimed my good Bonbon.
and with a groan he fed into the dark
ness in the back regions of the house.
And it happened that his loud cry
brought a response which came to me
N~-NAC N'A9 quite III Itd4lIltSS lOE II.
As | reached the last step Of the wide
staircase under the bright light raised
my eyes, and, behold. the Gouverneur
Faulkner to whom | had descended for
the purpose of mortal combat stood be
fore me,
And was it that cruel and wicked
and cold Gouverneur Faulkner who
was to scOurge me and keep me in the
house Of my uncle, the General Rob
erts, for dishonOr? 1t was not. Be
fore me stood tall man who was of
| a great paleness and a terrible fatigue
also, covered with the dust Of a long,
hard ride, with eyes that were full OF
fear who stood and looked at me
with not a word Of any kind
Suddenly l bowed my head and
stretched out my bare arms, the one
of which bore the red scar from the
wound suffered for him, and. thus
suppliant, I waited to receive the re-
proachcs that We're due to me from my
gouverneur
And for a long minute I waited and
then again for another long period of
time. and no word came to me Then
/ raised my head.
For all women now in the world
who have the love Of a man in their
| hearts and for those unborn who will
come into that possession l pray that
they may be given the opportunity t.
plant in the hearts of those men Of
their desire the seed Of a fine loyalty
| and service and cOmradcship and that
they may some day look into his eyes
and see that seed slowly expand into a
great white flower Of mate love rs
/ beheid bloom for me in the eyes Of my
beloved Gouverneur Faulkner Long
we stood there and looked into tn soul
or each other md let the flower grow,
drinking from our hearts and the veins
Of our bodies until at last it was fully
open. and thea l went with a love cry
into his arms held out to me and press
ed the heart of my body close against
| his own.
81 think my heart has always known,
though my minds eyes were blind.
God, if l had lost you into that hell Of
war, you daredevil" he whispered, and
I tasted the salt of his tears on my
| lips.
Il am Her' l whispered back to
him.
You are myself he laughed
| through a sob, and then, while with
his large warm hand he held my throat
as a person does the stem of a flower,
he pressed his lips into mine until
they reached to the heart within me.
In a moment with my hands l held
| him back from me.
81 must go, my beloved, even as l
have saidr' I cried to him. Il cannot
stay to my dishonor and to the rage
| and unhappiness my uncle, the Gen
ra .Il !