The Washington times., 1919-09-28
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a chance Of breaking down his re-
serve.
'Tt win not be half as nice with
out you. Why can't you comet"
she ventured, timidIy.
Il am doing some literary work,
which is easier done here, where /
have everything close at hand. You
had better make up your mind to
have a quiet week at Little Haven
with Felicity.
"She can run wild there, she has
been cooped up in London quite long
enough, and needs q little fresh air
before the rush begins"
"Do come, Ralph, she urged
Let Us 90 away and be happy
again for a little while. / am 50
tired Of my life Of late. To please
me-come."
She leaned a little forward as
she pleaded; the sound Of tears in
her voice. her hands clasped ner-
vously, her face flushed with the
eRort it cost her to speak to him
sike this.
For an instant he did not answer,
and she. began to hope. Then, cit
9s impossible, he said, eoldly, and
he turned to his writing table, and
began arranging some papers. But
she was desperate, she might never
have such a chance again; she
could not stop nov. she must know
more
why is It impossibleg" she
asked "TeIl me~the truth. Is it
only on account Of your work.?
NO." he replied. "That was
more or less an excuse to spare
your feelings; a form Of politeness.
The real reason is that / do not wish
10 go. am sorry you have forced
me to say this"
She caught her breath sharply.
"You do not wish to 60 away
with me" she said. in q low voice.
II understand. You mean to see as
little Of me as possible; ] wiz try
10 remember am sorry made
such a mistake. shall understand
better in future" She stumbled
blindly towards the door, and he
rose to open it for her.
"Ralph! Oh, Ralph!" she cried,
with sudden passion, holding out
her arms to him. I can't bear it,
you are breaking my heart Have
q little pity on me. I have been
weak and wicked. but am not as
bad as you think
Hush!" he said. stsrnly. do
you want to make even this life to-
gsther impossible2 Leave me a
little mercifuI blindness; don't
force me to see and hear What-ior
very shame-must drive me to ac-
ton. III have sunk 50 low that
an ready to connive at my own dis
honor, can you not help me? Leave
me at least a rag Of pretense-a
measure Of ignorance"
The bitter words struck her like
a blow in the face; she shrank
back appalled,. For an instant she
had a glimpse Of the mans agony
and passion, Of the IRE behind the
ice. and she covered before It like
a guilty creature. She went out
from his presence with a face Of
stone, dumb and blind with misery.
"This is the end-the real end!"
she repeated over and over again,
when she reached the safety Of her
room. There is nothing more to
be said-not even confession. The p
only thing can do for him is to
keep my secret-so long he can
shelter me-and no longer. That is
what he meant-what he said. His
honor shall cover my shame, though
It suffers by the contact
'Have / the right to reprOach
him even by a thought-to question
his generosity? The only atone ,
ment can make now is to fall in
with his wishes implicitly. He asks
nothing more Of me than silence;
he shall have it. If it we're not that
am such a coward, that ! am
afraid. would give him the silence
that cannot be brOken-the silence
Of Death!"
CHAPTER XXI.
Here's Ny Hand, With Ny