The Portland daily press., 1873-05-10

nan nd Il was with an eXeltant heart that
nc seconded to her dressing. room, on pre-
fence of a forgotten glove.
'0- Very quietly Helen gave Sir George his
answer. Very quietly she listened to his
ioyelike rhapsodies. Could he have known how
far away her thoughts were wandering, his
face would have been shade less bright. 1t
was not till Geoffrey's voice was heard in the
hall that she seemed conscious of what was |
passing; then snatching away the hand she |
had passively permitted Sir George to retain,
she withdrew to the further side of the fire. |
place.
The Kingsleys' ball was the finest of the sea-
son; and Helen danced, and cha.ted. and
smiled, the gayest of the gay. Her engage
ment was soon whispered from one to
another, calling forth the usual amount of
comment. Disappointed dowagers con-
soled themselves with the reflection that now
that Sthe beautiful Miss Howard over whose
hair, and eyes, and hand, and smile, the
male element in their little world had been
| ravine for the past few weeks, was fairly out
| of the war, their own less attractive daugh-
tiers would have the better chance. The nu-
merous young ladies who had angled unsuc-
cessfuy for the rich baronet, now murmured
in corners that ''Sir George wasn't half SO
handsome as he used to be, poor fellow"
|
full" ''And don't you think, dear, his hair
| is just the least bit red?'
Sir George Linton pleaded for an early
marriage. Helen seemed to have no wish in
the matter; so before the town began to be
deserted, a splendid bridal train swept up the
isle of the fashionable parish church, and
more beautiful than ever, in her bridal robes,
with the Linton diamonds in her dusky hair,
| Helen Howard calmly spoke the words which
bound her to the noble, loving man at her
side, whom as yet she scarcely knew. VIZ
'How lovely the dear girl looked!' ex-
claimed Mrs. Howard, wiping imaginary
tears from her eyes with priceless lace hand
herchief. Godfrey assented-driving off to
his club with the vision of his Nellie's parting
smile ever before his eyes. 'Poor little Mel
liep' he soliloquized, as he threw down the
evening paper, which failed to distract his at
tention from that one sorrowful subject.
I'm very fond of Aunt Ju, but l couldn't do
what she has done. Far better this, though,
than the toothless old marquis. Bah! l
| wonder what my respected aunt is made of!
| She knew the old sinner as well as do. My
| poor little girl, saved you from that, but
| lost YOU myself" And Godfrey swallowed
his brandy and settler with very heavy sigh.
He was weak, not wicked, and it comforted
him little when he remembered that Sir
George Linton was man well calculated to
win any woman's love, and might in time
win Nellie's. --t
'sYou will come to us for the hunting?'
Sir George had said, as he shook his hand at
parting So Godfrey found himselfat Linton
Court in the early part of December.
Helen was looking extremely well, and
moved among her numerous guests with
| grace and dignity peculiarly her own. What
her feelings were he could not discover. In
fact, Helen did not know herself
Day by day she learned more of the noble
l a. L. L. L.
| to marry. She bad not added falsehood to
| her injustice, however. for she told him that
she did not love him-that she never had land
his answer had been: 81 love you so truly,
Helen, that am sure you will love me some
time; and for that time will try to wait pa
tiently."
She was thinking of his words as she stood
at the dining room window, watching the
heavy clouds moving lazily through the sky.
Most of her guests were still lounging over
their morning toilets, although Sir George
and those ofhis friends who were fond of
risking their necks, had long ago ridden off to
the meet. Suddenly Godfrey appeared, rid
| ing hastily up the avenue; something in his
| face frightened her. She was at his side as
as he entered the room. ~
"What is it, Geoffrey?"
Nothing of any moment, Nellie. Sir
| Georges horse stumbled
| He was just in time to save her from falling.
AS he placed her in a chair. she grasped his
hand. "Tel me, Godfrey, is he dead?''
''Not nearly, you foolish child-if you had
only let me finish-his left arm is broken, and
set again by this time, for left him at the
surgeons. He wanted me to ride on and tell
| you, but declare I've made bad worse-he'll
be all right in no time"
care you sure, Geoffrey?''
Steps were heard in the hall. Here, Lin
ton, can't persuade Helen that you are not
killed; come and see what you can do" And
Godfrey considerably withdrew, closing the
door after him, to prevent the intrusion OF the
now alarmed guests. Did any one notice
that it was only the lips that smiled? In the
tired eyes there was only pain, and bitter. hit
ter regret. - :, .--,us = bis
wife's pale face to assure him that the time
he had waited for had come. And Helen as
she felt the clasp of his strong right arm, rec
ognized, with thrill of thankfulness, the
fact that she loved her husband ESl
"Cousin Godfrey, what does mamma mean
bysaying she hopes soon to see you in PARISH"
asked Helen few mornings later, as she re-
folded letter just received from Mrs. How
| ard.
Godfrey made grimace.
SIT means, my dear Helen, that Aunt Ju
| has picked out countess for me, who, she
declares, is already devotedly attached to me-
| I've seen her. She has skin like parchment
| beady eyes, a voice like parrot, and more
francs than she knows what to do with. How
ever, I'll go to see Aunt Ju, at any rate"
And off Godfrey went promising to return
in the spring.
Gallons of ale were flowing, and an OK was
roasted whole, in the park at Linton Court.
A bonfire cracked and blazed on the vii !
lage green, and the bells were tumbling in |
merry fashion, to give voice to the great re- |
jOicing for an heir was born to the Lintons of |
Linton, and joy and hope were playing DO /
peep through the long corridors and in the |
lofty rooms of the great house.
The evening was sultry in Paris, and the |
kindly young English physician looked pity |
ingly at the pale, beautiful face ofhis patient, |
turned so YEARLY to the easement.
How long will live, do you think?'
Months, hope; weeks, at all events"
Geoffrey Howard sighed.
drawers, tell me the truth, will live to
ST think So You cannot travel now, but
when the weather gets little cooler, I will
go with you myself" r}i, hzsfsFaE
~ thank you, Travers. l hate Paris now;
you don't know how / long for one breath of
cool, sweet English air-one sight of dear, ia
miliar faces.' cas4ig
Howard, cannot disguise the fact that
you mag die at any time-heart disease is SO
uncertain--but will do my best for you."
"Heart diseasep and he smiled, little
bitterly. "Are you quite sure, Travers, that
i have enough of that article to be diseased T'
A light breeze stirred the curtains. The
quiet stars came out one by one. The soft
chanting of the nuns in the neighboring
chapel came sweetly through the twilight still
ness. And while at Linton Court the re-
joicing waxed louder and louder, here, in hot,
gay Paris, Godfrey Howard slept the quiet,
dreamless sleep of child.
ga letter for you, Helen.''
The post-bag had just come in, and Sir
George Linton tossed letter, with the Lon
don postmark, across the breakfast-table to |
his wife.
The writing was familiar, though strangely |
irregular and feeble-looking. She opened lit |
quickly. 1t contained only these words:
81 am dying. May come to you, Nellie?
Traverse viii bring me. Your cousin,
GEoFFREY."
With a sudden burst of tears, she handed
it to her husband. They read it in silence.
He knew the history of these two hearts.
When he did speak, it was to say, quietly,
''Have room ready for him Helen / am GO
G., IL: =