The Republican journal., 1869-04-15

aware.
"A queen must needs have grave moods,
Sir knight. The cares of state may press
heavily"
"But queens are still women"
Something in the tone gave it a meaning,
but she seemed powerless to translate.
"1 ou come from far land" she said
slowly. And what may your quest be 2"
"A search for constancy." He gave a
low, light laugh.
"Methinks, Sir Knight, he who takes
woman's love as his guerdon, has no right
to doubt until she be proved false"
And then?' There was strange, ex-
pectant quiver in the voice.
"If your quest has ended thus you should
have chosen more wisely"
She could not tell why she should utter
those words in so sharp a tone, save that
there was nameless pain at her heart, for
the woman who watched, and to whom re-
turned no brave and loyal knight
Gerald Van Duyne approached, and the
two parted, but Edith glanced after the van
ishing form and saw it no more that night.
And at last the revel was done. Long
past midnight, and Edith Winchester had
gone to her room. Her father, who had
been sitting by the fireside, doing. and
watching for her, started up.
"My darling" he said-''my precious
child you were fairest of them all, and
won as you deserved to win, fond heart.
Already have given Gerald a sons place"
She shut her scarlet lips decisively, and
a little frown gathered about her brow. She
did not like thus to be forestaled.
81 have not decided" she returned al
most coldy.
"But you will ?"-and the weary eyes en-
treated wistfully. she loves you so well
Edith
ut is late," she said, evasively.
"Good night, my love" and kissing her,
he departed.
She seated herself at the old-fashioned
escritoir. There lay letter before her,
she recognized the writing at a glance.
Gerald Van Duyne meant to beseige her at
every avenue, and she smiled with little
disdain.
Some lines of tender, passionate plead
ing, and entreaty for an answer, be it ever
so brief
Edith Winchester felt that it was a tempt
ing proposal. Wealth, position, love, and
life Of fullest enjoyment. She could see
that her father was already enlisted on &C.
raids side Which should it be-Yes or
No?
She leaned her head on her hand in deep
thought, Should she give that brief cpl
sode to Gerald's keeping, and thus dismiss
it forever, like laying some ghost of haunt
ing past? Tonight it had been strong up
on her-the remembrance of five years ago,
when she and Roger Prescott were lovers.
Tender, impulsive, boyish Roger, with a
proud, strong heart, and daring will, with
which to make his fortune. What wonder
tui romanccs tney had planned in that May
time of youth, she but seventeen and he
two-and-twenty Had any Of it come true !?
Year after year she had gone on in so dull
fashion, that now she found herself almost
longing for some excitement and pleasure
and what of him?
She remembered the day of their parting.
a mellow, hazy October afternoon. with
long reaches of glowing woods and waters,
and dusky meadows, And because Roger
had doubted her little, she had been curt
and cold.
A woman's faith is always longest lived"
she had said. "Men often solace them
selves with new faces, while women sit at
home and Dream"
A line of white showed Just above his
lip; a stern, set resolve.
"1 ou have called me unreasonable" he
said, and blamed me for doubling. give
you my faith here, ask no word, no It'd
ings from you. For five years I will 60 on
my silent way, aud if live, come back
worthy of you. If ot-you will be free" "
She would have relented at word, but
he had no further persuasion to offer. And
so they kissed and parted in the twilight,
and five years had come and gone.
Whether Roger had died in his faith, or,
failing in his high hopes, turned to others,
she could not tell. But it was his face that
come to her now, his soft and tender eyes,
and she almost listened for the pleading
voice. How much she had hoped she knew
now, and it seemed as if halfthe brightness
had gone out of her life.
Here was her subtle temptation reach
ing out its golden fingers. Yes or No.
She dallied with it there, her brain as
bright and fresh as if she had not danced
until midnight. She tried to write, mean
ing az first to tell Gerald her story, but it
was too sacred to place there for careless
eyes. No-that must rest in the quiet grave
with Roger-dear, lost Roger!
Something peering through the window
startled her-a streak of yellow dawn. The
lamp burned dimly, her answer was yet
unwritten, her masquerading dress still un-
changed. Should she take the tiara and
sceptre, or sit uncrowned all her days
And then the figure Of the knight rose be-
fore her, and the tone in which he had an
nounced his quest-a search for constancy.
Why should his light laugh sting her even
yet?
With hurried movement she wrote a
simple word npon slip Of paper and fold
ed it. The jewellers would be late at
breakfast so wrapping herself in a shawl,
she took possession ofthe luxurious couch,
but not to sleep. In those waking dreams
the tender face brooded over hers again
with the smile it used to wear.
Gerald Van Duyne, entering the library,
found his answer waiting him. At first he
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