New national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1870-1874, 1872-05-30
as You like il, Gertrude p, be said, visit

"You like it, Gertrude ?'' he said, visit
fully.
Eyes, 1 like IT'D
She could hardly trust herself to say more;
and Bernard, being man of exquisite tact,
was silent. Pretty soon he said:
Let me show you your own rooms
A suite of apartments in the wing that
overlooked the garden had been metamor.
phosed at his command into q bower almost
too lovely for a mortal maiden to dwell in.
Mrs. Give chartered fast in her delight.
"He means you to live sumptuously. He
will make you think you are princess" she
cried. "And yet, mon Dieu 2" returning to
the French phrases picked up in her school
days, "to think that little gliding, and
few mirrors, and a trihe of pink silk and mus
lin could do it All, Gertrude, but there was
something else to the FORE"
While the happy sense Of his goodness
filled her soul, there was yet an undercurrent
of pain Pain: - .,,.,, .. 49,. 49,. ,,,,, ii. mon.
nifcence?" said her thought.
And he, reading it so easily with the keen
eyes of love, said, earnestly:
know, my darling, you would love me
just as well if I were beggar."
''Indeed would ~ she whispered.
He went away, and left her standing there
with this thought in her heart-a subtle
stroke of policy, if he had considered it; but
it was only his fine tact.
Gertrude sank down into the luxurious
armchair. 1t was just type Of the deli
cious repose that might fill her whole life, if
she only would.
And why not? She had endured the hard
ness in her youth. 1t is no unheroic thing
for delicate, fine-cultured girl to take up
the role of governess and the children, even
of the best families, are not young angels,
generally. But Mrs. Give had been so kind
to her, and let her see society when she
would. She might have had her Adonis, but
until Bernard Give came. with his manifold
destinations, all men had been as shadows.
To him she had half surrendered, a shy, re-
luctant captive.
But last night Mrs. Give had kissed her,
and called her sister.
"You ought to be happy. Nobody could
be more in love than he is, and Bernard is
good fellow. He has had his little pecadil-
loes, sans domte-they all have. But he is as
good as the rest"
the sins of the great world? Kitty Give,
with her four years in Paris, was a thousand
fold wiser. If she had any misgivings, she
hushcd them in her heart.
Gertrude will be the making of him and,
in spite of that unfortunate affair, Bernard is
not bad fellow"
In his own room Bernard was very much
at ease as to his hopes. He was sure of her
for whole month, and he had taken care to
invite only ladies or ineligible men to help
them pass the summer.
And now, with all the signs of affluence
about him, Bernard was thinking.
81 am lucky fellow" ran the sOliloquy.
eff Cousin Robert had lived day longer,
the entire property would have gone to the
Morton WillOughbys. If 1 had gone to
might never have seen Gertrude. 1t really
seems if all had been provldentially arranged.
Pshawv
He interrupted himself, and knocked the
ashes from his pipe with vehemence.
Gas if Providence would do anything for
meas if it had forgotten that old grudge
against me. Curse it! I wish 1 could for.
get it myself"
He wheeled around IN his chair, and
brought himself face to face with portrait
which hung upon the wall.
1t was lovely picture-a fair, girlish face,
untouched as yet by sorrow, but with a
mournful, foreshadowing fate in the dark,
beautiful, tender eyes.
81 wonder now" unused Bernard, "by
what perversity of self tomenting 1 keep
Cldt picture UcloIc lily Eyes. ha'c s''iu "
myself hundred times that would destroy
it. Poor little May! You keep remorse
alive, do you know, and you safe in heaven
these ten years. Heaven! If there was
one, May, do you think it would not over
take me with wrath? You said-I remem-
ber-that one day the punishment would
come. 1t tarries long, poor little pious May
The grass is green on your grave, and II
am in love again."
He looked steadfastly at the portrait as he
spoke, and it seemed to him that the face
dilated, stood out from the canvas, and al
most would speak. Gradually, too, new
consciousness grew upon him. All the color
drifted out of his face.
"Good heaven % rousing himself, with
sound like O groan. "Fool that l didr It
know it before NV God, what a complica-
toni"
He dropped his white face on his arms, and
the table and chair shook.
A whole long hour passed before he lifted
his head. When he did, his countenance
was pale and set. He rose.
"You shall not be avenged-at least, not
in that way" with a defiant glance at the
portrait.
He made as if to 60 out, but, irresistibly,
turned around, and went close to the pic
ture.
strange dld not see IL DcIOre-StranSc
1 did not guess what it was that was so
sweetly familiar in her face-why her smile
was like an old melody half forgotten. May
May looking into the lovely, pathetic
eyes" will be good to her--I will be true.
Oh, will not that atone? ''
1t was dark when he at last passed out OF
the room, and into Gertrude's presence.
Mrs. Give, sitting in an adjoining room,
heard their low voices, and guessed that
Bernard was prospecting with his love-
making.
Late in the evening Gertrude stood there
close by him, the white moonlight falling
around her, and making her loneliness SUI
preme. Half wild with the impatience OF
love, yet Bernard controlled himself. Slowly
but steadily she was drifting toward him.
Patience, and she was won! Her hand
fingered in his when he said good night, her
eyes had soft light, whose meaning he
knew well. Yet he restrained himself. He
told her he was going away tomorrow, to be
gone all day, and saw the gentle regret cloud
her bright face; but he did not take her in
his arms, and bid her a passionate goodbye.
"She will come to me of herself presently
She will come" he said.