Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1911-Jan 1912)

118 TEE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE honest one like Penworth, 111 give you a raise and a little vacation," he said, benignly. Their footsteps echoed hollowly down the corridor, and Penworth waited all a-trembling. The seconds dragged by like hours; she was not coming — it was only a joke. Then a light, quick footfall, a rustle of silken skirts, and Alice Wayne stood in the doorway. It was, indeed, the dainty, blue-eyed girl for whom he had been willing to sacrifice so much; but so changed was she, so wan and white and frail in her clinging black gown, that he could only look at her in shocked surprise and pity. The girl hesitated a moment, blushingly, then went forward and placed both her hands in his. "I had to come. I couldn't wait to thank you for what you have done for me," she said, almost in a whisper. She was struggling bravely with her agitation, and she trembled pitifully, as she tried to speak again. Penworth did not make answer. He, too, was agitated and nervous. He had stood up strong thru all the tragic events of the past two days, but now this unexpected reward was overwhelming. Here was the dear one come to a prison cell to thank him. He felt that his heart was rising to his throat to choke the words that he wanted to speak. "You were so kind," she murmured, "but I am glad the truth came out. What a noble sacrifice you made ! Papa is gone, and I can forgive and think kindly of him, but I could not have borne it if you " She broke down and began to sob. As Penworth looked at her, a great sympathy struggled with a great joy in his heart, but he repressed himself, sternly. ' ' I must wait, ' ' he thought ; "I must not take advantage of her gratitude, her weakness, her excitement. ' r But even as he was silently making these worthy resolutions, she turned toward him, her lovely, tear-stained face so perilously near, her drenched eyes so innocently appealing. And still Penworth was silent. But it took all his strength and will to resist the impulse to crush her in his arms. "Oh, speak! You must tell me what to do," she said. "I am so alone, so friendless. I have no one to go to. My name is disgraced — how can I live ? What shall I do ? " "I thought you were engaged," Penworth stammered, trying to control the tide of his emotion. ' ' I shall never marry him, ' ' she answered, "and, perhaps, he does not want me now, with this disgrace upon me. I — I do not love him. I never did really love him. I knew it that night when you came to report the reception, and " All the man's stern resolutions melted away before the pitiful droop of the moist blue eyes. Then, as she sat silent, on the edge of the narrow cot to which she had sunk, a faint flush beginning to rise on her face, so pale against the blackness of her somber gown, he suddenly fell upon one knee and threw his arms around her, clasping her close and tight to his breast. For a full minute, neither the one nor the other spoke. No words could express what those two hearts felt. The true language of love cannot be spoken in words. Words are but a faint echo of a voice from within. Actions speak louder than words, and hearts speak louder than actions. What happened next should be briefly told. One long, lingering kiss came first, then a double confession, and then a conversation of love and of plans for the future, all of which must not here be related, because it was strictly confidential. Now, in the lovely, upturned face, what does he see? Such a shy, fleeting glance ; such a tender glow in the starry eyes; such a sweet trembling of the perfect lips. Then she lies upon his breast, her heart beating against his heart, her soft fragrant hair brushing his cheeks, and as he bends his lips to hers a thrill of passionate joyousness strikes him — the divine spark that lies in every human soul, kindled into flame.