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!
