Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1872-03-21
tain plashing in its marble basin few steps

''They are singing the trio from Attila, u
she tried to say, but her voice refused its Office
mildred Weir" Waldemar began
hurriedly, "forgive me if I am too hasty-but
1 cannot control myself You must feel that
love you"
He had taken her trembling hand, and
now pressed it passionately to his lips.
"I think tits generally known as the Grown
Imperial, though the botanical name is F'it
telaria. Have you ever studied botany, Miss
Kate"
Mr.. Falconer reached up and caught the
fragrant cluster. "See how sweet it is" he
continued, and Kate Moreton bent over it.
The two were standing at the farthest end
of the conservatory, halfhidden by interve'
ming foliage. Neither had been aware of the
entrance of Waldemar and Mildred; but
CHANGING to glance in the direction Of the
bo,ldoir, Kate now became witness of the
tableau before her. 1t was one which would
have delighted the eye of an artist the Greek
head bent-the delicate face of his compan.
ion transformed with strange, intangible
glory-the two figures distinctly outlined
against the azure damask with which the tiny
apartment was hung.
Kate Moreton was only human. For a
moment her imperious temper surged like the
angry sea she hated her fair-faced rival with
frightful intensity. But the paroxysm passed.
Alexis Waldemar had trifed with her-had
won her love by that halfexpressed, halfim'
piled devotion so common with men Of his
stamp, who hold it "point of honor" to
go as far as possible without committing
themselves" He was not committed.
Kate must acknowledge he had never in 80
many words said to her, "Ilove you, and wish
to marry you" as an honorable, true-hearted
man will naturally say to the woman for
whose society he had publicly shown marked
preference. He had never sought any avowal
of returned affection. There had only been
tacit understanding that their feelings were
mutual since the previous summer When
the gay crowd were dancing in the ballroom
of the Point Clear Hotel, these two had wan
dered off to the shore, and Waldemar had =
*nothing else to dop' Little did he realize
the fearful consequences Of his "love in idle
ness" ~.;..... :. <t..a.. ..E:
Ninon Pignolet, too, had spread her tolls
in the sight of the wary bird, and he had
pretended to walk artlessly into them,-when
with mocking laugh he suddenly fled, and
left her if not indignant, at least mortified, at
the signal failure. Her heart was not bro
ken, for truth to tell the little piece Of vanity
and frivolity which stood with her as an apol'
ogy for that organ, was unworthy Of the
name but she vowed with all the fervor of
her creole nature to be avenged, and she was
Alexis Waldemar was as desperately in ear
nest as it was possible for man of his tenn
permanent to be. A strange anomaly was
this Polish. h.American-a mixture of cold
sel6shness and ardent passion; Of transcen-
dent genius and sensual tastes; of lofty aspira-
tions and earthly appetites. Mildred Weir
had appealed to all in him that was purest,
noblest, best. For the first time in all his 30
called "afaires du ceur" he loved truly and
purely. And with woman's intuitive per-
ception Kate Moreton at glance read his
heart. A brief struggle,-and she conquered
the strongest foe of the human heart-hopeless
love. Quickly she changed her position, and
spoke in a slightly-raised voice:
eyes, it is favorite science Of mine; but we
can not stop to discuss it now. Mamma will
be waiting, and I want to hear Ninon's harp
before we leave"
When they entered the boudoir, Waldemar
and his companion were leaving 1.-THE un-
expected sound of Kate's voice had been ef-
fectual.
The evening drew to a close, and Mrs..
Moreton's carriage was announced. Henri
cite looking tired and pale, leaned against a
window and watched Ninon's white arms, bare
to the dimpled shoulder, flashing across the
strings of her harp, as she sang in light,
liquid soprano some foolish little French
chanson-the burden of which seemed to be-
Glamour est s monde; lemonde est pamour." "
Mildred did not hear it. She only saw the
voluptuous figure, and the sweep of tapering
arms, and line came to her memory
"Like the songs that were sung by the Lurley
maid, sweet with deadly spell.''
"Let me get your cloak" whispered WAL
demar, who still fingered by her side, and
seemed weary of the fair harpist and her
chanson. Mrs Moreton, can assist you p
He caught the shawl which had fallen, and
walked with the ladies toward the cloak-room.
Kate followed them, laughing merrily with
two gentleman who accompanied her. Wal
demar took an opera-talma from a number
which lay on the table, and placed it around
Mildred's shoulders.
II do not believe this is mine," she said |;
"mine is lined with blue, and this is rose-col-
ored. That is it, I believe"
Mr.. Gervais was about to hand one to Kate
when Waldemar stopped him.
"That is Miss Weir's; I have Miss Kate's
cloak here"
He brought the discarded talma in his
hand and made movement as if to wrap it
around her. 81.
Kate drew up her splendid figure to its full
height, and her dark eyes flashed.
"Mr. Gervais, will you be so kind as to get
my cloak"
The uncomfortable scorn in her voice was
too perceptible to be ignored. Waldemar's 5
face flushed, but he bowed with courtly, sa-
tirical obeisance.
"Le refine de les reiees, your humble and