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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 30, 1897)
THE COURIER. 11 DIFFERING NEEDS. The Story of a Tragic Happening. A clock on tho chimneypiece struck the bait hour and Desmond, roused from his revurio by tho fire, gavo the logs a kick and walked over to his dress ing table. His toilet only needed the addition of a dress coat to bo quite- com plete, but as if still dissatisfied with his hair, which was sometimes refractory, he picked up his brushes nnd used them with unwonted vigor. Tho face that looked back at him from the mirror was not reassuring. There were deep lines about the mouth and eyes, and a harassed expression, which did not well become the host of the evening a man about to assist at the celebration of the twenty-fifth anni versary of his marriage; he looked as if he were contemplating his own funeral. Throwing down tho brushes he passed his Lands over his face af if to smooth out tho lines, and the muscles relaxing, gave him a less tense expression. He slipped on his coat and started toward the door, but suddenly changing his mind, Hung himself into a chair before the fire. To leave the house that night was out of 1he question. Downstairs he could hear the bustle of the final arrangements; the guests were coming at 9 o'clock. Madame was probably moving about putting a fin ishing touch here and there and he did not like her touches; they weie in artistic. Twenty five years they had been pull ing along in double harness! At first they had kept step very well, pulling evenly and always together; it even out lasted the honeymoon and into the fol lowing year. Then gradually his pace quickened and hers lagged until they found themselves a tandem pair; he always leading. With a desire to give her a chance, he bad tried to develop her along his own lines, but she neither understood nor was interested, preferr ing the conventional, narrow road on which sh3 had always traveled. Safety and not experience was her value of life. But Desmond, a league or two ahead of her, did not lack for companionship by tho way, and at forty-live he found himself as desperately in love as a boy of twenty. After all, there was a good deal of the boy about him a buoyant, trusting nature with a great capacity for affection that kept his heart young. Since she had crept into his heart the whole world had taken on a different aspect. It was wonderful how she col ored everything and readjusted his point of view. It was the strength of her personality, for sometimes, when ho was away from her, and bad not for several days seen her, he ceased to be reconciled to the inevitable, and longed to escape from his utter desolation, into the warmth of her love. Then when he wont to her she would give him fresh courage, sending him back into that stifling atmosphere to do his duty. Duty, forsooth! Was out ward form everything to this mundane world? Sometimes ho wondered how long ho would prove so tractable, her influence dominating his whole charac ter, forcing him to live his life apart from her. There were days when he was haunted by tho fear that he sad dened her life, but she would never have it so. Always, she said, he made her "glad, glad, glad,"' but once he no ticed that her lip trembled. Ab, yes, he was in love, and he loved the being loved, as she loved him! Desmond took a crumpled bit of paper out of his pocket and smoothed it on his knee. "Come at 9," it read; "there is rather an important matter about which you can help mo." There was no signature, and the lines were penciled hurriedly and addressed to his club. Since he had received the cote Desmond had thought of nothing elso. Doris needed him, had snt for him, and he could not move, though he would go to tho ends of the earth for her. It was scarcely to be expected that she would keep track of his family cele brations, neithor could a man with any decency fail to put in an appearance at his wedding anniversary. Tho grim mockery of it all was horrible! "An important matter.' What could it be? The lines on Desmond's faco deepened into furrows as hia thoughts took a per plexed turn, and he started slightly as tho clock chimed out tho hour of 9. Ob, to bo with her now! No one had ever so stimulated him and appealed to his better nature, for she was too fine to care for tho weaker part. But sho vas human, too, in spite of her theories, and loved him in spite of herself. And she was high minded and tolerant to a de gree unusual in so young a woman. There was a knock at the door and a voice speaking quietly. "Mrs. Desmond sayB, sir, you will please join her in the drawing-room." Desmond rose from his seat and tossed the note into the fire, pulling himself together like a person in a dream. If the miserable farce must be gone through with he would at least play his part like a man. What if, instead of assuming a role, he were to go down to the drawing-room, proclaim the truth and beg for freedom! Ho loathed by pocrisy and deceit, but should he wipe them out of hi3 life at the cost of his wife's contentment? She did not love him, he knew, not as ho understood love it was not necessary or compre hensible to her nature but she took much pleasure in being his wife, and she lived according to her lights, which burned with steady dimness. Assuredly he could not cry out like a caged beast. Was ho a chiU that he clamored so for tho truth? Bah! Not ono man in a thousand shows an honest front to the world! On the landing of the stairs Desmond stopped, and picking a few sprays of lilies of the valley from a jat which stood there, thrust them into tho lapel of his coat. Tho fragranco reminded him of his bravo little girl, and ho de scended to the drawing-room with a determination to smile blandly on bis guests, even though he hated them for keeping him from the woman he loved. He drew aside the portiere the com edy was about to begin. Enter tho model husband. Congratulations are the order of the day. Two hours later Desmond glanced about the crowded rooms and indulged in a moment of self-congratulation. He had played his part with considerable effort, but he know what was required of him in his own house. The success of the reception pleased his pride; his wife was a delightful hostess people were saying that Jon every side; he wondered why they did not entertain more often. lit. moved about from one group to another, and cast a pitying glance at his wife, whom the continuous How of people had kept riveted in the place where she wa3 receiving. Why not get her aw?y fcr a bit and break up tho incessant "how d'jo do-so glad charmed," that threatened to become automatic? The conservatory and an ice would be his suggestion to any other woman. Gad, the heat was intense, now he thouaht of it. Desmond made his way through tho room, bis zigzag path paved with good intentions, but one of the guests had forestalled him, and he saw the hostess smile gratefully up at Jim Ferris, and, slipping her arm through his, pass out through tho hall that led to the conser vatory. Relieved of the duty that lay nearest to him, Desmond forgot his cue for a moment, and his thoughts rebelliously went back to tho little girl who made his life. The Hungarian band was play ing a wild, fantastic thing that wailed and pulsated above the murmur of the crowd, and stirred the man who was listening. To his acute consciousness it seemed bb if it wero a cry from tho woman bo loved his little Bohemian girl sho was; how tho name suited her. Suddenly there, was u shriok that rang abovo the archestra, paralyzing tho musicians so that their instruments dropped of ono accord. With a great strido Desmond crossed the hall and entered the conservatory, where already a crowd had gathered. Silently they made way for their hott to pass, and in another moment ho faced tho full hor ror of tho situation. A woman lay upon the floor strug gling to get away from the grasp of the men who held her down, whilo Jim Ferris was wrapping rugs about her in a vain endeavor to stiflo the flames which weie devouring her. In a per fect frenzy of agony the woman wrench ed herself from the men and made an attempt to got upon her feet, the singed rugs falling from her, but in a accond Ferris had torn a heavy covering from a divan, and, wrapping it about her, had thrown her to the floor. In the brief glimpse of her as she had risen Des mond recognized his wife. He dropped on the floor beside her and tried to speak, but the words wero incoherent, and she seemed not to heed them. Once she looked toward him, but sho passed him by. and her eyes sought out Ferris from among the group about her. "Send them away," she moaned, feebly. Quietly the guests moved off and took their departure. A great hush fell over tho brilliantly lighted house. In the sooservatory only Desmond and Ferris watched beside the suffering woman. Would a doctor never come? In the intensity of her pain she made frantic efforts to breakaway from them, but they held her fast. For a moment or two Ferris' voice quieted her, and he spoko gently, as to a little child. "Can you bo bravo and have patience, little wman? It will not last long liko this." Sho lifted her head. "My dear old Jim dear, faithful Jim not very long. Raise me up a little." Both men lifted her head from the cushion which had been put under it, but it was on Ferris that she leaned, her neck and face, which the flames had not touched, gleamed in ghastly contrast against tho black of Ferris's coat. Dasmord spoke in a low, tense whis per: "Give her to me. She is mine, Ferris." At tho sound of his voice Mrs. Des mond turned her eyes on him with a puzzled expression, as if suddenly be coming awaro of his presence. Then she gave a loud cry and dropped back unconscious in Jim Ferris's arms. Two servants and a distinguished looking man entered the conservatory. The doctor knelt down and felt tho woman's pulse, then he put his ear to her heart. The little group waited in breathless silence. On the forehead of Ferris, who still held her, great drops of sweat were forming. From a case at his side the doctor took a tiny phial and poured a few liquid drops down the woman's throat. As ho parted her lips to administer tho dose, her jaw fell helplessly. "Carry her upstairs," he said. Tenderly Ferris took her in his arms, and Desmond led the way to her cham ber. On tho bed she was gently laid, and then the doctor spoke again: "Go downstairs and wait until I come. You can do nothing here. Send me two of your women, Mr. Desmond." Both men left the room and descended to the library, where Ferris dropped into a chair and Desmond went on to carry out the doctor's orders. When he returnad he closed the door softlv bohind him, and, going over to tho tiro place, leaned bis arm on tho mantel, heavily. Ferris roao from his seat and walked over to where tho other man stood. "Shall I tell you how it happened?" ho laid. "Yes." "Wo wero sitting in tho cuncervntory. Through the palms back of us some ono wa smoking. Presently wo ceased to snu-ll the cigar, but it must bavo been thrown nn tho floor junt bohind her skirts. Sho was very tired, ami was thankful to linger on after her ice was finished. Thon she spoke of a curious odor. Suddenly she jumped to her feet and tho rest you know." "God help her!" Desmond's head sank in his arms on the chimney-piece. Suddenly ho turned about and facod Ferris. An angry flush mounted to hia face. "Why did you usurp my place to night? You hold her and carried her, and saved her life, if it can bo saved. Sho appealed to you, too. Am 1 not her husband?" Tho veins in Ferris's forehead swelled to whipcords at the insolence of Des mond's tone, but he clenched hia teeth and made a strong effort at self control. When he spoko his voice was quiet. "Desmond, we have been friends many jeare, but first I came here aa Lola's friend, do you remember that?" "I had forgotten it is so long ago." "Yes. You took me into your family life quite naturally, and I was grateful grateful enough never to forget the footing on which I stood." "What do you mean?" "Thut for twenty years I have been one of you welcomed always free to come and go as I choso a privilege a lonely man in the world appreciates." "Well!" "Well, there was a time long age, bo fore you knew Lola, when sho and I were children together little sweet hearts. Wo were to grow up and bo married it was the limit of our imagin ation. Then when I was fifteen I was eent to tho ranch in Texas; three years after, Lola came out and married you in her first season. It wa3 all vory natur al." Desmond could feel the pain in tho quiet, even voice. "When I came back I was a man, and I meant to live liko a man. Tho life down there toughens a fellow's heart as well as his muscie. So I looked you up and likod you, first bo causo Lola did," ho said simply, "and then for yourself." "Thank you, Ferris." Desmond open ed the library door and stood in tho hall listening intently, but there was no sound from the floor above. How long, he wondered, would this awful suspense last! "Shall 1 go on?" he said. Desmond came back to tho fire. "It doesn't matter, old man," he said weari ly. "I think 1 understand; but it comes with a sndden shock." "But it does matter, Desmond. You have a right to know. AH these years I have gone on loving Lola, but in a differ ent way. It satisfied me entirely to bo about and fill the place I did in her life. You cannot understand that, for your temperament is different." "Is it?" "And I could scarcely be about so much without observing the change that has come over you." "So you have been studying me, Fer ris? I scarcely think I am worth it!" An ominous look camo into Desmond's eyes. "Wait, Desmondl When jou married Lola you were both mere children. It was in tho nature o" things that, having character, you should develop, but your development, from contact with tho world, was more rapid and broad. Lola reached her limitations, but you went on then she failed to satisfy jou." "How do you know this?" "From my knowledge of human na- aaB??preiife-i!