The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1869-08-19

answer. =" must have mistaken the
hour"
AS tho two walked away together,
Mrs. Gibson said, in a tone which,
though not intended for his cars, Guy
could lot avoid over-hearing. "NIiss
Deane, | never was more astonished in
my life! Such boldness as this from
person in my employ Going alone
into gentleman's grounds like that
Making sketch, iudecdl"
The reply was inaudible. Guy flushed
to his very fnger-tips with anger, but
rejecting that Miss Deapes mortifca.
tion would doubtless be increased by
the knowledge that he had heard the
cruel words. he pressed back the indig.
nnnt sentences that rose to his lips.
From this moment his resolution was
taken. "Shc shall not long be subject
to that woman's petty tyranny-not il
| can win her for myself" he said clos.
ing his lips tightly as he walked up the
garden path.
early on the following day he saw
the Gibsons drive away with party of
guests, followed by a light wagon
packed with all the equipments of a
rustic picnic. Miss Deane was not Of
the number; indeed, he had noticed
that she very rarely shared any of their
frequent pleasure excursions.
"Shc is alone. will speak to her
this very day" he thought.
Ashc passed up the avenue thatafter-
noon, he started to hear her yoicc again
as on the first day when he had met
her. He stood still moment aud the
words came floating to his ear on the
wings of a melody sadder than anything
he had ever heard:
Late, late, SO late and dark the night and chill.
Late, late, 50 latel but we can enter still
| Too late too late ye cannot enter nowP'
Following with his eyes the direction
of the sound, he saw her sitting on the
grass, half hidden by trellis which
supported n clambering vine. The last
note died away in a tremulous sob and
burying her face in her hands she burst
into spasm of weeping.
Guy stood irresolute, fearing to star
tie her by his sudden approach, but as
a dry twig broke beneath his foot she
turned quickl and recognized him
She rose hastily, dashing away her
tears, and her face glowing with pain
iul embarrassment, Guy was at her side
in an instant.
81 beg ten thousand pardons," he
said hurriedIy, 7indecd l did not mean
to come upon you so SUDDENLY
"The family are absent for the day
Mr.. Britton."
81 know it'll don't wish TO sec them.
Miss Deane, they are miscraby unkind
to you herei' said Guy impulsively.
mo, no, it is not that they do not
mean it, she answered, striving to re
gain composure; lit is because am SO
utterly alone-alone. Believe me,
am not often so weak as thisw
ooh, Miss Deane! if you would only
take place in my heart and home!-
Tell me that you will give me the right
to guard and comfort you! Be my
wife,
Her face lit up for n brief moment
with strange radiance. then the light
passed and left her calm aud pale.
Mr.. Britton," she said, ~ need not
tell you how totally uuprepared | am
for this. You do me great honor-I
thank you, but this cannot be. You
are not the man to be content 10 mar
riage that had its origin in mere SYM
pathy however noble; and forgive me
that | say it, lonely and poor as l am,
| should want more than that in my
husband"
Guy would have interrupted her with
passionate prot estations, but she silenced
him with quiet firmness.
I" / am almost stranger to you,"
were her parting words; sometime you
will thank me for what may seem now
like rank ingratitude." She held ont
her hand with sorrowfnl smile. Guy
pressed it to his lips.
"Miss Deane," he said, "I don't won
der that my wretched abruptness has
ruined my cause. Forgive it--aud me.
am going away tomorrow, on urgent
business. / shall be a. home in fort.
night, then ! shall ask you to answer
me again"
The end Of the fortnight brought
Guy Britton back; but Laura Deane
had been gone week.
81 don't know where she went" said
Mrs. Gibson, with something like a
sneer, in answer to his anxious inquiry.
did not trouble myself to ask, aud no
references did she get from me eitherl
The uugrqteful piecel Wasn't her
quarter finished, did you say2 What
IT it wasg She knew | depended on
her. Aftcr all my kinndess, tool It's
always the way with such people; as l
tell Mr.. Gibson"
One Sabbath evening, two years later,
Guy Britton walked up the aisle of a
fashionable city church, and taking the
scat which the usher gave him, leaned
back against the cushion with half
closed eyes, listening to the soft, sweet
prelude Of the organist. Suddenly a
single voice rose up strong aud clear.
Her voice ! it must be hersl The wide
world could not hold such auotherl--
Still scared the strain, above the frettcd
arches and tho vaulted roof, aspiring,
adornieg like the lark alone with the
morning, Or the eagle bathing his fear
less head In the very sunlight Of heavcnl
Laura Deane, coming down the stair
way Of the nrchestra, at close Of service,
saw Guy Britton waiting at its foot