Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1872-07-02
Cast OF.

III ioiSiNo you ioW udro
you ask it, Ida Rossitur 7? Never, so
help me Heaven y
There was fierce glare in the black
eyes with which Winfield Gray stead
lily regarded the handsome woman
standing pale and with compressed
lips before him.
She had been for solitary walk on
the sea-shorc, little dreaming she should
meet the man, who, in her heart of
hearts, was the only cnshrincd idol.
She had been seen coming, when
his eyes, keen and bright though they
were, had not yet discerned her grace
ful figure vending its way among the
crags and cliffs of the rocky, wild
beach and with loud cry Of intense
delight upon her lips, she FASTENED to
meet him.
She was faultlcssly beautiful wom-
an, this naughty heiress, Ida Rossilur,
whose dark, oriental eyes had slain
scores of victims; whose masses of
black hair had driven scores of lovers
half crazy. She knew her power, and
how to use it; and before she had
seen twenty-five summers drop their
load of sweet scents, she had acquired
the well earned title Of coqucttc.
But every soul has its mate; and
Ida Rossitur had met the master of
her destiny she loved. Yet so strange
is the inconsistency of woman, that,
though wooed by Winfield Grey, him
whom she adored, her habit of coquct-
ry would not permit her to show him
preference.
Not that she intended losing him
and on the moonlight night when he
told her his love in terms so passion
ate that her heart almost ached with
the joy, when he pleaded the sweet
rumor that was going the rounds of
their engagement, she gracefully war
ded him off, fully intending to confess
all on the morning.
Alas for what we shall do on the
"morrow y Many arc the hopes that
are crushed for their waiting for the
morrow; the many resolutions buried
that tomorrow was to see fulfilled.
And Ida Rossitur, when the morn
ing dawned, learned that Winfield
Grey had left the shore that very
morning while she was dreaming of
him.
She was too proud to enquire too
proud to write; and when, hours later,
she was playfully taunted with slay-
ing another victim, and that, Winfield
Grey, she was too reservcdly naughty
to refute the asporsion, and by cold
bow gave crcdcnce to the rumor.
All this, the one previous episode of
her life, that had been crowded into
one blissful fortnight, two years agono,
came rushing over her as she saw
Winfield Grey walking along, alum
conscious of her near proximity to
him.
"Winfcld, oh Winfield, can it be
possible ?"
She reached forth her beautiful arms,
a glorous light that he could not have
understood, glowing in her dark eyes.
He started, raised his hat, and would
have passed on. s...
"You arc not angry with me, Mr..
Grey ?" Her tones were pleading, but
he looked passionlcss as statue.
"I have not forgotten our last inter
NlcW, MISS hosSltur. .g
His cold, stocly tones raised fear
full anguish in her heart,
"Nor have /. I Ihave been waiting
ever since, to tell you-to tell you
how-I--loyed youp aa.b
The proud woman had spoken at
last; and beautiful blush oversprcad
her face as she looked almost wistfully
at him. a rJ
His checks redeemed, but he never
moved his eyes from her face.
~ am grievcd that the confession
has come too late, Miss Rossitur. /
care nothing for you
She stood like ono pctri6ed, her eyes
growing bright aud wild.
"No. care eor me ?-not--carc--for
a