Wired Love Ella Cheever Thayer (ebook audio reader .TXT) 📖

“Give me what you have left, Cyn! If it be but dead ashes, I will thank God for the gift, and perhaps, at some future day, in response to my devotion, even from those ashes shall arise another love, so strong, so intense, that, in comparison, the old shall be but as some half-forgotten trouble of childhood, whose remembrance cannot awaken even a passing pain.”

The fervor of an honest affection made Jo truly eloquent, and his true blue eyes met the dark ones of Cyn, glowing with earnestness and love, and for a moment she looked at him and hesitated. Then she arose, saying resolutely,

“No! Jo! no! Do not tempt me! The experiment would be too dangerous! To give you a warmed-over affection in return for your whole heart, would only be misery for us both⁠—more misery than I am bringing to you now. I respect and esteem you, as I said before⁠—we will be friends⁠—comrades⁠—always⁠—no more!”

As she spoke, she extended her hand to him, in farewell to all his hopes.

And so understanding he clasped it, a sadness on his face she had never seen there before.

“As you will, Cyn,” he replied, brokenly, “but I shall love you⁠—forever!”

As he spoke, from below came the cry,

“Cyn! Jo! where are you? we are going!”

“Coming!” Cyn’s clear voice answered back.

“One moment,” Jo said, detaining her, “may I⁠—may I kiss you once, Cyn? Once, and for the last time?”

There were tears in Cyn’s eyes. She bent her handsome head, their lips met, then, without a word, they went on together to join those who awaited them.

And it was thus Fate decreed for these two.

Love brings the most intense sorrows, the keenest joys of life. But there must always be some lives, into which comes only the sadness, and none of the bliss, of loving.

XVI O. K.

Leaving Clem, on their arrival at the hotel, to bear the burden of the green stuff they had brought from the woods, Cyn, with a trace of melancholy on her sunny face, followed Nattie to her room. For Cyn’s joyous picnic, with its gay beginning, had ended sadly enough for her.

“I want to ask you something,” Cyn said, with frank directness, as she carefully closed the door behind them. “And that is, are you, can you be foolish enough to imagine, that Clem and I are in love with each other?”

The small basket Nattie held in her hand fell to the floor, at this unexpected question. Had Cyn drawn forth a bowie-knife, and playfully clipped off her nose, she could not have been more astounded.

“If you can possibly reduce your eyes to their ordinary size, and give me a candid yes or no, I will be obliged,” Cyn said, rather petulantly, after waiting in vain for an answer. The events of the day had sorely tried her usually even temper.

A little tremulously, while a burning flush covered her face, Nattie answered her,

“I⁠—I have heard it intimated!”

“You have heard it intimated! That means yes, to my question,” said Cyn; then sinking despairingly on the lounge, she added, “here is a crisis of which I never dreamed!”

Not understanding very well, and moreover much agitated by the subject, Nattie knew not what to say.

“This is awful!” went on Cyn, savagely beating the pillow with her fist; “what contrary things love affairs are!”

Fearful of having in some way betrayed her secret⁠—the only conclusion she could draw from Cyn’s extraordinary outburst⁠—Nattie stood looking guiltily at the floor a few moments, then recovering herself, she went to Cyn, and said, in a voice full of emotion,

“I do not just comprehend your meaning, dear, but it may be you think I might not quite like the idea, on account of that⁠—that first affair on the wire. If so, dismiss the thought. You and Clem are suited to each other, and⁠—” Nattie stopped, unable to continue.

Cyn, who had been beating the innocent pillow, as if it was the cause of all this, while Nattie was speaking, now threw it across the room, as she exclaimed.

“Oh! the perversity of human nature! Oh! you degenerate girl! As if I cared for Clem in that way! Have I not from the first set my heart on this real-life romance ending in the only way it could rightfully end?”

A sudden light came into Nattie’s face, but it died away in a moment.

“Then you do not care for him? Poor Clem!” she said, in a low voice.

“Poor Clem, indeed!” cried Cyn, pacing the floor excitedly. “I cannot⁠—no, I cannot⁠—believe it of him! He certainly has sagacity enough not to run his head against a beam in broad daylight, even⁠—”

“If Jo had not,” she was about to add, but checked herself suddenly. Not for the world would she betray Jo’s confidence. What had passed between them today should be a secret always, never again to be mentioned⁠—but never forgotten in the friendship and companionship of after years.

“You must be very difficult to suit, dear, if you do not like Clem!” said Nattie, with unconscious significance, after waiting in vain for Cyn to finish her sentence.

“It is not that,” replied Cyn, somewhat sadly. “Do you not know I have only one love⁠—music?”

“Poor Clem!” again said Nattie, from the depths of her tender heart. “For I know he loves you, dear. He could not help it, who could?”

Such words would have been sweet to the vanity of an ordinary woman. But on Cyn they had a very opposite effect.

“Things have come to a pretty pass if one can not laugh and joke, and enjoy one’s self with friends without being made love to!” she said, annoyed. Then looking scrutinizingly at Nattie, she asked,

“And you⁠—did you really wish Clem and I might love each other?”

Nattie played nervously with the fringe of her dress, hesitated, then replied in a low tone,

“I fear I did not, Cyn!”

“Then it may come right yet!” exclaimed Cyn, hopefully.

Nattie shook her head.

“And he loving you? Oh, no!” she said. “I shall never be able to say