Jasper County Democrat, Volume 8, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 July 1905 — A LESSON IN LOVE [ARTICLE]

A LESSON IN LOVE

The professor pushed aside his volume of Chaucer to make room for his slender young daughter on the arm of his chair. “Where tonight, Estelle?” “To the ball with Mr. Denton and Mrs. Mills,” she answered blithely. “With Mr. Denton? Isn't Teddy Variel going?” “I suppose so—yes.” “They say this Mr. Denton is a very wealthy man,” he said. “Oh, it’s true. He has riches beyond one’s dreams.” The note of personal triumph in her voice was harsh to her father’s listening ear. He regarded her thoughtfully. “Sit here on the hassock, dear. I can see you better.” His voice became almost a whisper. “This Is the anniversary.” “Not of your marriage, father?”

“No. My marriage was a subsequent date. You do not know—l have never told you—that your mother was married before she became my wife—married and widowed.” “Why, no, father, dear,” said the girl, with quick, sympathetic interest. “On this night years ago, Estelle, your mother first went out of my life. She was placed very much like you—ln a comfortable home in a college town, where her father, too, was a professor. “She and I had discovered the purple twilight In every blossom I saw her face; the dewdrop beamed with the luster of her eyes; her voice was the warbling of the birds; her smile was in the sunshine. Somehow I feel, Estelle, that is the way Teddy Variel feels of you. “Her mother forbade our engagement. I was only a struggling student, and, though her father believed that I should win fame, he did not check his wife’s ambition for her child. “There came to the town, very much like the coming of this young Denton, a man with gracious personal gifts and riches which at that time seemed immense. He had Just come into his inheritance.

“They met—and he loved her. At first she would not listen, but her nature was gentle, her mother determined and her father, poring over ancient tragedies, overlooked the one creeping into his home. I was powerless. She could not receive me when I called, and at the functions where we met she was zealously guarded by her mother and the man.

“She accepted him. She told him frankly that her love was mine; that in promising him she was acceding to her mother's will. But he was buoyantly confident that love would come. They were married, and he took her away to a mansion filled with treasures of art. She had jewels and gowns and houses—all the things that mdney could buy—but love did not come. “For a year I did not care what became of me. But I loved her and could do nothing of which she would be ashamed. I went to Egypt and began the researches that have brought me fame.

“Five years passed. The longing to see her again, to hear her voice, became Intolerable pain. I went back to London and haunted the streets, the shops, the theaters, where she might be. Then one night when I had almost despaired I saw her In her box at the opera. “She surpassed even my dreams. Her gown was soft and white. Above her shoulder a red rose lifted with the same proud tilt of her own pretty bead. I thrilled at the thought that on her I had never seen a faded flower. “I hurried out and stood In, the obscuring crowd, near enough to see my lost girl and to hear her voice as she passed. She turned her bead restlessly from side to side (It was perhaps the magnetism of my gaze; I suppose my heart and soul were in it), and then, before I realized it, the crowd had parted, and she stood before me with outstretched hands. “I could not speak. The old joy had gone from her eyes, and in them was a sadness that never lightened. Her husband stood waiting under the portico. He had grown coarse and worn, and on his face were the lines of a tyranny which would deal humiliation for her guileless taking of my hand. “I did not try to see her again. I felt it was better for us both. But I stayed near lest some time she would need me, and somehow she knew I was always waiting.

“She found her husband dead one mornftig—shot by his own hand. He had speculated, lost his wealth and died heavily Indebted. “I waited some months, and then I claimed her. I shall never forget her words that night nor the sorrowful eyes smiling into mine. She gave me her hand and whispered: “ 'Once, long ago, I looked into the heart of a purple twilight and dreamed a dream of my life—and you. Tomorrow I shall look again and see the realization of my dream. The flowers are asleep tonight, dear; but, see, the stars are shining'.' “We had two short years together, pitifully short, yet sometimes I think a day is worth a lifetime. “When she lay dying In my arms the morning you were born she. looked at your tiny pink face and said: “ ‘Some time it may come to you, my little one, to choose, to weigh the wealth of love against that of gold. If that time ever Comes,’ she whispered to me, ‘tell her the glory of my sunset. I think she will understand!”’ The din of a bell Intruded on the soothing silence. He turned to his awed young daughter. “Good night, Estelle.” She kissed him fondly. Then, as she had done every night since she was a lisping child, she went to the window, drew aside the drapery and reverently raised her eyes to the stars.—lllustrated Bits.