Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-10-02

| The Willows. 1t was when he re-
turned weary and depressed from an
excursion that he found note from Mrs.
Brantley awaiting him.
DEAR MAJOR CLARE ut RAM, "Why have you
forsaken us? We have looked for you, wished
to be determined that shall learn the full mean
ing Of the verb to disappoint. Will you not come
over to dinner to-day! l think you have played
hermit quite long enough. Truly yours,
The first person whom he saw when he
entered the well-filled drawing-room OF
the Willows was the pretty widow, in ra-
diant looks and radiant spirits, not to
mention a radiant toilette of the lightest
possible and most becoming mourning.
"What have you been doing with your
self?' she asked after the first salutations
were over. "You have at least been charita-
BILE in furnishing us with topic ofconver.
sation. | scarcely know what we should
have done without the Victor Glare dis
appearance as Mr.. Ellis has called 1T,
during the last week."
81 am sure you ought to be obliged to
me, them" Glare said, flushing and laugh
ing.
"Opinion has been divided concern
ing the mystery of your fate" she went
on.
How kind ones friends are, to be
sure, especially when they are in the
country, and have nothing in particular
with which to amuse themselves~
"But what haze you been doing."
81 have been very busy making my final
arrangements for leaving the country"
answered he.
"You are really going, then ?" she asked,
after minutes silence.
II wrote to General - on the night
saw you last, accepting his Offer" Glare
answered.
"And you will sell Claremont?"
81 have no alternative"
She said nothing more, but he saw her
hand-the same white, ieweled hand that
had cleaned on his arm in the starlight
60 to her throat with quick, convulsive
movement.
"You might stay if you would" said
she, with that tremulous accent which the
French call 'tears in the voice"
mo, / could not stay" said Clare, reso-
lutely. 81 have no money, nor any means
of making any in America"
This ended the discussion. Even Mrs.
Lancaster, fast and daring and willful as
she was, could not say, 81 have money
more than know what to do with-take
it," Her eyes said as much, but Glare
did not look at her eyes. A minute long
er passed in embarrassed silence. Then
| somebody came up, and Victor was able
to walk away. AS he crossed the room
he saw Eleanor Milbourne, for the first
| time since his arrival.
After dinner Mrs. Brantley claimed his
attention. 1t seemed that there was aplan
| under discussion for showing the sole lion
of the neighborhood-a hill of considera-
! bic eminence known as Farley's Mount
| to the guests of The Willows. But it was
distant twelve miles. What did Major
Glare think of their starting early, break
| ing the ride by rest and luncheon at Clare
mont, then going on to the mountain,
| making the ascent, and returning by
| moonlight?
ut will not do at ALL" said Victor.
| "Twenty -four miles is too much to be I'M
dertaken on July day by mere party
of pleasure. You would break your
selves down and see nothing.
! propose an amendment: Take two days
| instead of one, and spend night on the
mountain If you have never camped on
a mountain, the novelty is well worth ex-
periencing, and these midsummer nights
have scarcely any length, you know.
| linen lIlc SuilIlSc is II1dUuIECcUl.
"That is exactly what we will do" cried
Ms. Brantley, clapping her hands with
childish glee.
walking with Mr.. Brent in the soft sum
mer twilight on the lawn.
| "YOu should not press me so hard" she
said as they paced slowly to and fro. ~
| fear | can never give you what you desire,
| hrf i al mn "a "a
| time"
"a little time! But think how much
time you have had!" the gentleman said,
not without reason. Eleanor, is this kind
is it even just?"
| ut is neither" said Eleanor, turning to
I, him with strange depreciation on her
fair, proud face. 81 know that you have
been everything that is patient and gener-
Gus, and | am sorry-oh, ! am more than
sorry--to have seemed to trife with you
but what can do? Remember that when
/ decide, it is for my whole life. You can
not doubt that | will hold fast to my
| promise when it is once given"
81 do not doubt it, and therefore | de-
sire that promise above all things"
| "You haze waited" said she, grateful
| ly-"waited too long already"
| Later in the evening, Victor Clare Was
leaving the drawingroom as Miss Mel
bourne entered it. They came face to
"But you would not desire the letter
without The spirits" said she eagerly. 81
| dare not bind myself dare not-until l
am certain of myself"
"But, good Heavens!" said Marston
Brent, who, although usually the most
quiet and dignified Of human beings, was
now fairly driven to vehemence, "when
| do you mean to be certain of yourself?
Surely you have had time enough. Can
you not love me, Eleanor" he asked a
little wistfully. 'If that is tiff that is
the doubt that holds you back-say SO,
and let me go. Anything is better than
suspense like this"
But Eleanor was plainly not ready to
say that She stood still for moment,
then turned to him with sudden light OF
resolve in her eyes. "You are right" she
said "This must end. may be weak
and foolish, but have no right to make
you suffer for my weakness and my folly.
/ pledge myself to tell you tomorrow
night whether or not can be your wife.
You will give me till then, will you nots
| 1t is the last delay shall ask"
~ wish you would understand that you
4 couId not ask auvfhipU which I obnuld