The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1871-09-21

while thinking Msgdalen harsh, yet
blessed her 10 his heart. M.gdalep,
also, was confused and rather augry.-I
She turned away without saying what
she had come to say to Horace, and
left tho room; Paul standing like the
statue of despair.
''There! See how she treats me !'
ho cried pettishly, pacing about the
room. 'You SEQ i. now for yourself, |
HORACE you see her contempt and her !
coldnes. She rules me With rod Of iron :; |
she makes me her slave, and then
spurns me because I am her slave. She |
might be geutler to me. What did I |
DO to deserve this ?-I, who love her
so much"
He flung himself on the sofa, bury
ing his face in his hands, and quiver
ing convubively.
| "ls this your way of bearing a little
displeasure p cried Horace, in his
CHEEKY voice, patting his shoulder
"Come, have little more pluck for this
once. You, who talk OF Milton and
Cromwell, and all those iron heroes, as
if their lives were as easy as paiutlng-|
DO you think they would approve Of
this"
eyes," said Paul, almost fiercely,
looking up with strange mixture Of
feverish passion and grief; Eyes, they
would. The strongest men love the
best, and sensitiveness is not weak.
ness"
"Scnsitiveness no. But this is not
mere sensitivencss; it is naked folly"
said Horace, in his clear, calm voice.
"Fclly, Horace? p? Such word from
your
"Yes, from me, Paul; and don't give
way again, there's dear fellow, and l
will tell you why call it folly. You
tease Miss Trevelyan with Jour love,
little inopportunely ofered-you often
tease her SO. You never have the good
sense to see it in that light; but COM
plain Of her ooldness, when you ought
to be ashamed Of your own want of dis
cretion. You are so penetrated bylyour
own feelings, that you cannot see hers.
She is bothered by you annoyed, and
tells you SO roundly aad you go off in
to fit Of childish despair. The thing
lies in nutshell, and that nutstell you
must crack, to get common senee outlof
it Now, don't lombard me with
bhghted feelings" he added, seeing
that Paul was about to argue. GAO
oept my view as both just and real.
You will find your account in being
guided by a little more worldly wisdom
than you have hitherto allowed. Be-
lieve me when tell you co." Aud
Horace strodo out of the room before
Paul could answer. He went to 6ud
MagdsleD, intending to lecture her as
well, and to make her feel that she was
unkind, and persuade her into better be.
havior. For it was very sad to see
these young people tossing each other
so much, all for want of common sense
and mutual understanding.
She was in the dining-room when he
went to her; standing very mournfully
by the window, looking out on the
drizzling rain that fell like the fringe
OF q mourning garment from the dark
clouds above. Her own face was as
sad as the heavens, and her heart was
as heavy as her eyes. When Horace
came near her, she turned with little
impatient movement, for she thought
it was Paul come to have scene and
then make ;. When she saw it was
Horace, flush like crimson flashed
suddenly across her face. She smiled,
! and half held out her hand, sighing as
if suddenly relieved from some heavy
burden. Then, as if she remembered
something, she drew herself away
checked the impulse and the smile
both, aud looked at him almost as cold!1
Y a, she would have looked at Paul.
IL have come to take q liberty
said Horace, smiling, but with a Ger:
tain embarrassment of manner, too. Fo
he did not like this business, now thai
he was close upon it.
II "What is it?" asked Magdaleu
"Not very great one, I am sure"
~ ~ want to have a long, quiet tall
with you, if you allow me-" he an
swered, and leading her to a chair
His manner was slightly authoritative
4 but it pleased Magdalen, surfeited Al
she was with loving slavery.
"Has anything gone wrong, Mr.
Rutherford ?"
= "1n your cause no, nothing; bu
!, much in your life will go wrong, if you
are not careful. Forgive my frankness
. I am an old FREUD, now, and feel as il
, l have the right to advise. May ]
= speak openly, without the fear Of Of
. Tending you Miss Trevelyan p
eyes," said Magdaleu, tinidly.
~ will, then. / want to speak tc
you about my old friend, Paul"
"Wh.t of him ?" asked Magdslen
with one Of her sudden looks Of pride
"Do not be offended, Miss Treve
]yan; I will say nothing that ought Il
shock the most sensitive pride. But
must be frank. Do you think you ar
wi.e-I do not say right, but simply
4 wise-in your conduct to Paul ? It is