The Union. [volume] (Georgetown, Del.) 1863-1866, 1863-09-18

" You shall be then," he said evasively,
but not now. You have had sorrow
enough for one sun, Lucie."
But she pressed him close. "Take pity
upon me, Louis" she said /" can bear
anything better than this dreadful uncer-
tainty."
Let me be a Judge of that. Lucie,"
he said, kindly, and he would have put
the subject by. But she rose and faced
him. Louis, you must not trife with
me. l will do my best to be good and
brave and useful to you. can be, I
think. Still, l am but woman, and may
fail. Louis, what is this mystery you
keep from me 7 How is it that you are in
debt, you whose habits are so frugal and
wants so few 2"
He laughed, but not naturally. envy
dear" he said, see how little you women
know of the world. Are none but spend
thritts beggars! Does misfortune always
come of error?"
N" Louis, you do not answer me-"
F" Be guided by me, Lucie," he was be-
ginning to urge again, when she Interrupt
ted him. Il cannot, dare not, would
not answer for my mind if 1 tried. 1
know too much already. Louis, had not
that-that name been dropped, might
have yielded to your wish. But now
must know how and by whose fault it
comes that-that Mr. Trevor has you in
his power"
Nay" he said, trying to smile. "Is
he not as much in mine !? You heard
what Twissel said"
Louis" she said then, quitting her
hold of his hand, and falling back from
him, you are not kind to me; you treat
me as child and yet you lay upon me
burden which few women would be strong
enough to bear"
1t was the first time she had used this
tone and manner to him, and his face
flushed painfully. You force me, then,
to speak, Lucie," he said eff it must
be so, you will give me all the help you
can, so that of the pain you will bring
upon yourself my share may seem as small
as possibisaR
Thank you, Louis; will do all you
wish"
You compel me, Lucie, to speak of
time and Of people the recollection of
which irritates me, and must needs be hui
initiating to your"
Her face flushed crimson, but her voice
was calm. g Yes, Louis"
want to recall, without mentioning
his name, so hard should find it to do so
calmly, one who-who-"
II will spare you the pain" she said,
calmly. "You mean Charles Trevor, who
was so false-to you in friendship, and in
love to me"
He looked up in amazement at her calm
face, his own racked and white with pas
sion. "We were as brothers." he contin-
ued presently in a hoarse voice. 81 had
no doubt or suspicion of him. Had he
asked me to give my life into his keeping
l would have done so without a question.
He was rash, headstrong, reckless, this
man, and wanted money often. AT some
such time he came to me to help him bor-
row it. l could only lend him my name,
but that was useful, and gave it. You
are following me, Lucie 2"
"Yes, Louis"
| forgot it as soon as it was done.
When he fell, as God in his Just venge-
ance decreed he should fall, l had no
thought that his ruin would prove mine.
But so it was The bills which | had
given him changed hands often, and came
at last to Mr. Trevor That little l re-
ceived; no more. He pressed me; then
withdrew his grasp; frightened it again
again relaxed it. 1t seemed to me that he |
had followed no rule, but was harsh or
merciful as mere caprice dictated. But
latterly his purpose has been plain enough, |
and our ruin certain"
Trembling violently, Lucie looked at
the pale thin face, hardening under his
grievous trial an expression of fierce ha-
tired. Z" Louis" she said, this trouble is
of my bringing. / have always been
burden and a sorrow to you"
MY poor Lucie," he cried in a broken
voice, my lifes joy always"
''Thank you," she said, clinging to
him " and tit is hard to forgive, Louis;
but you will"
Z" Not him." he cried, fercely. "I will
never forgive that man."
"Oh Louis at this season hush p
81 cannot help it; heaven forgive my
hard rebellious heart. But my wrong is
grievous, my resentment just. And, liv-
ing or dead, in his absence as if he stood
to hear me, charge my shame and ruin
to his folly and sin and curse. Ahw
He stopped then with the fierce word
frozen upon his white lips, his eyes fixed
upon the doorway.
For there, as if called up by his bitter
words, stood the man whom he was de-
nouncing Charles Trevor, his old COM
panion, brother, friend. Taking Lucie's
trembling figure to his arms, with a mo-
ton of one hand before her eyes as if to
keep from them some shameful or conta-
gious sight, and with the other waving
him back, Louis Addison, erect and stern,
confronted him.
Do not mistake me, Addison" said
thick voice; 81 come here claiming no
welcome-expeeting none"
That you come at all is offence
enough"
al beg your pardon. / did not care to
intrust my business in strange hands. 1t
is short, and need take but few words |
Addison, am afraid You have been hardly