The Washington times., 1918-07-07
Continued from Preceding Pase.)


the hunter and she the hunted
and the knowledge that he
would pay with all the anguish
and regret Of a passionate, hope
less love-perhaps for the rest
AOf his life-did not balance
things to his awakened soul. II
= Bis years should be one long,
gRawing ache for her, what Of
hP-s? And she was so young.
Is life. at all events, was
Il 80 one; but hers tied to
Jo..lah Brown! And this thought
drove him to madness.
Size belonged to Josiah Brown
NOT to him who she loved
bu. to Josiah Brown. plebian and
miGdle-aged and exacting. He
knew now that he ought to have
gone away at once, the next day
after they had met. His whole
course Of conduct had been weak
and absolutely self-indulgent and
wicked.
Who was he to dare to have
raised his eyes to this angel, and
try to scorch even the hem Of her
clothing! And now he had only
brought suffering upon her and
dimned the light in Gods two
stars, which we're her eyes.
And then wild passion shook
him, and he could only live again
the divine moments when she had
nestled unresisting in his arms.
Would it have made things bet
ter or worse If he had not yield
ed to the temptation of that hour
Of night and solitude?
After all. the sin was in max
ing her love him, not in just hold.
ing her and kissing her lips. And
at least, at least, they would have
the exquisite memory Of momerts
Of unutterable bliss to keep for
the rest of their lives.
His windows were wide open,
and he leaned upon the balcony
and gazed out at the moon. What
benefit had he brought to any
one? Then he seemed to see q
clear vision of Theodora's short
existence. Every picture she had
unconscioHsly shown him was Of
some gentle thought of unseIfish-
ness for others.
And now he had laid a burden
upon her shoulders, when he
would not hurt q hair of her
head-that dear, exquisite head
which had lain upon his breast
only two hours ago, and could
lever lie there again. He knew
this was the end.
Then anguish and remorse
seized him, and he buried his
face on his crossed arms.
And Theodore staggered up to
her room like one half dead.
Mercifully Josiah Brown had gone
to bed, leaving a message with
Henriette, Theodora's~ maid, that
on no account was she to make
any noise or disturb him.
Henriette adored her MISTRESS
did not who served her?-and she I
treSsed to see madame so pale.
less madame had had a most tiriI
Madame had, and was thankful W
last she was left alone with her tn
Then she. too, opened wide the W
and gazed at the moon.
She had no cause for remorse (
conduct like Hector. She had m;
plans for the entrapping of any sol
yet she felt forlorn and wicked. o
she was awake now and knew whe
had been drifting. And SO love haG
at last, and indeed, indeed it meal
This blast had struck her, and 81
been blind in not recognizing it at {
But oh, how sweet it was!-lov
It seemed as If it could make ever
good and fair. II he and she who
each other could have belonged Il
other, surely they might have sh
and gladness and kindness on all q
Then she lay on her bed and did !
to reason any more; she only kne
loved Hector Bracondale with all hel
and being, and that she was MARI
Josiah Brown.
And what would the days be VIII,
never saw him? And he, too, he wo
then there was poor Jo
who was so generous to her. He cot
help being vulgar and unsympatheti
her duty was to make him happy.
she could do that, she would try he
best to do that.
But thrills ran through her wit
recollection Of the moments in the
to Paris-oh, why had no one told
warned her all her life about this
thing love? At last, worn out wi
sleep gently closed her G