The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-02-15
Il inust prsctise being lsdy-like, and

says. with rather snxious laugh.
do not be 10 any hurry to see my
people, cries Paul, hastily. ~ am
not. I had far rather keep you to ray-
self"
"Wonld you? Do you know" Oak.
log his hand, aod smiling softly), ~
have been vexing myssH with the
thought that, try as I may, never can
give you all my lif: !? There must al
ways remain eighteen years in which
you have had neither part nor lot, and
in which other men have. I canoot,
indeed" Qaughing a little), "accuso
myself Of baviDg ever been over-civll
to Jour sex; but once I gave man a
bunch of violets, and once I got up
at five O'Clock iu the morairg to see
another man off to Ipdia. I dare say
you have done many wo.ss things, but
l do not believe they can weigh on your
mind half so much %
"For Heaven's sake, do not let us
compare notes!" says Paul, with has
ty flush, while his mental eye flashes
back over the occupations of his grown
up years. IL do not want to make YOU
believe that I have been worse than
otter men; and l have not Lawrence's
idea, that, by being soperlatively i'm.
,ncral, one IS more likely to win good
~"mau's love; but still (sighing), be-
side your sweet white life, mine looks
black enough. Let US cry quits, Lenore,
and make fresh start. II you stick to
me, | swear to you that, for the future,
mine shall be as white as yoars.'
1--WE shall be like two lilies on one
stalls" says Lenore; with levity; but
her eyes are wet.
After all, it Is Paul that sees Lenore
of, and not Lcnore Paul. The Oman
boat starts several hours before the
Southampton one. The bitter "good-
bye" has really come. The pas engers
are stepping on board, aud seating
themselves ia the bows and on tie
rickety camp-stoo|s on the hatchways.
Three old Frenchwomen are chattering
together, asking each other whether
they are not 'tatiyue par Ia cent"
Black SIN Ike IS pouring out Of the lit
tie black fuoue!; the paddle boxes,
black and white like magpies-bird
hateful to the French soul-contrast
the green water that they rest on. A
devoted Breton pere de JansiNe is re.
turning to his home with three red-and-
yellow paper twirligiss in his hand j.;
evidertly his offspring number three.
'FFor Gods sake, do not forget me,
Paul." Lenore is saying, in a low,
broken voice. She has one of her low
er's hands tight held in both hers; her
face is as white as death, and the tears
are pouring dowa it. She has never
much regard for appearances, and she
is entirely reckless to them now in a
waterproof, quite down to her heels,
she looks Ikea young grenadier-only.
surely, never had grenadier So Wet and
woe-begone a face. "Think Of me
every minute, even if you think some.
thing disagreeable. Oh, if 1 had but
some one to talk of me to you! But 1
have not-no one you will never hear
my name, or, if any cne does mention
it, be will say no good Of me nobody
ever does !"
"My dearest child, do not talk such
nonsense r says P.ul, hastily, cs ting
furtive glance round to see whether
any one is laughing. He is very mis-
erably himself, but he is not quite so
much swallowed W by his griet as not
to retain an uneasy curiosity as to
whether their pretty pose does not
afford mirth-matter to their fellow
voyagers. He catches the stokcr,
who has just come up, streaming with
pcrspiration aud black as night, from
the lower regions, Aayrant delicto.
He is smiling, and oudging a ncishbor.
Mr.. LIE Mesuier relieves his mind by
scowlng at him.
IL cannot stand this much longer"
says Scrope, in suppressed voice, to
Jemima Mr.. Scrope is unable to keep
quiet: he is turning red pale, add bit
ing his lips. cit really il too sicken
ing. These ceremonies ought to bo
strictly private, altogether omitted.
Do not you think SO, Miss Herrick %
"Do not you look that way" says
Jcmima dryly.
II cannot help it there is sort Of
horrible fascination. Thank God,
there's the bell Miss Jemima, why,
the-why mean, does no one ever
cry over me ?"
"You are not going away 2"
"But if I we're who woall? I
never caused any ones tears to flow in
my life, except my small brothers,
when | licked b;m at school,"
"Be good girl, Lenore, and do not
Airt aoiM Scrope! These are my
last words to you. God bless you, my
darl,ng!"
Paul has at last forgotten the rest of
the company ; the soker may laugh
his fill he sees nothing but Lcnore's
drowned blue eyes, and his own are not
tar from matching them.
And IN this fashion they part.
END OF PART FIRST,