The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-05-09
PART III.-NIGHT:
CHAPTER IL. ~-Coutinued.

CHAPTER II. Continued. =
"How often have wondered vhetb.
er should ever meet you again - says
Paul, presently, with long sigh; "af.
ter all, the world is small and if | did,
where and haw,?s Certainly, this is the
last place that eyer would have entered
my head and yet, only five minutes
ago Iwas thinking of you"
"Were. you? q, she says, softly, while
her eyes, hine: gently back At him, like
beautiful 'dew:wct flowers through hap
Ply: tears :-.'ss:!2 70 s::.4, ~
"You have forgiven me?" he says,
anxAously catching hold Of her other
hand, and holding both ip' the same
loose friendly clasp in which he had
before held the one. owe are friends
are not We? AT peace ?"
She has no hands to hide her face
She cannot hinder him from seeing how
her dropped eyes brim overflow the
heavy great tears are rolling down her
smart scarlet cloak. IN the tender
gentleness of her small wet face there
is not much war.
"Do not cry" he says, looking sur.
plised and miserable, as a man always
does, when women Unexpectedly weep.
"What is there to cry about ? l am
net" (suilidg rather awkardly) "go-
ing to scoll you this time. You know
I always Was good hand at lecturing,
was not p? Often and often since
have wished that had rot been quite
such good one--I can hardly be-
lIoce that it is you," he says, after a
pause, again sintcrrupting the rivers
aud the grasshoppers' duet. "What
have you been doing to yourself p
Somehow you are different. You are
too cid to grow, I suppose; people do
not grow at nineteen but-but-sure
" you arc thinner than you used to be
have you been ill? Are you ill now T.
"Not very," she answers, lightly
"anyboby else would have made a trlae
Of it, but you know I always make the
most Of things, aud have not much Of
a constitution-so they tell me-"
He docs not ask any other question
for the moment.
"For my part, [ am ghd," she con.
tinues, with restless laugh. 81 uevc,
could see what use good constitution
was to any one, except to make them
suffer more, and die harder when thci,
tine came"
~ suppose you have been thresten'
ing to break blood-vessel again." he
says, with smiling allusien to what
sho had told him on one Of the earliest
days Of their acquaintance. "Good
God? can that be only a year ago p
"On1y year!' she echoes, d1eamily
"But year is long time.'
"You are pale, too," he says, pro
ceeding with his scrutiny "are you al
ways pale now ? The only time that
remember you as pale as you are nov
was that night when I upset you int
the Rance p! How the water dripped
from your long hair! I did not believe
till then that women really had suct
long hair. I can see you now p Hi
gray eyes look kind and almost wistfu
| as be thus travels back into the prett,
dead past.
"Can you ?' she says, almost inaudi
bly,.
"It was all q mistake, I suppose" h
continues, signing, "a blunder-a bun
gle-but it was pleasant while it lasted
was not it ?"
She cannot speak fer tears.
"Lenore," he says after another ii
lence, in tone Of stronger excitement
than any that he has yet used, ri am
going to tell you something. Often and
often l have wondered whether I should
ever have the chance Of telling you.-
Sometimes l have wished that should
and sometimes I have hoped that
should not. It does not much matter
what you think Of me now, one way o,
another, but I do not think that it will
improve your opinion Of either my
wisdom or my humility. Do you re-
member that last letter you sent me p
She is not pale now ; he cannot &C.
cuse her Of it. No rose in any mid.
summer garden was: ever 50 rod and
her streaming eyes flash in the mild
moonlight with the old angry spirit. Is
he going to twit her with that poor lit
tie overture that miscarried 80 piteously;
II did not believe In it," he goes on
still IN hot excitement. II was sore
aud mad from your calling bitter words
Lenore; (a1most en'trleaatioglyo, l,a VII, Dc
you let your tongue. cut like =. knife
I thought it was only = flirting ma:
neever to get me back and make
fool of me . eeoond time. I hate
being made fool Of! Nobody had ev.
er taken the trouble to do it before.
hate being trodden upon. I like t
walk upright and es my own way"
"Well :" -
1 q a