The Cecil Whig., 1874-05-02
lere, you can both say with truth that |

here, you can both say Win trltn IhdI
am unwell."
/ go to my own room and lay my aching
head upon the pillow. How forlorn and
wicked feel l lie there, the painful sobs
coming at intervals, and presently l am
aroused by gentle tap at the door.
"Come in ~ say, expec ting to see one
of the servants.
But aunt Stockdale enters, her kind face
full of sympathy. Putting her arms
around me, and kissing my burning fore
head, she says
"Alice dear, am quite grieved to see
you so poorly"
feel as though l should choke; a great
lump rises in my throat, and l can only cry
idiotically.
1T is nervousness" she remarks half to
herself. "Terry was right-she is not
strong enough for excitement
am about to say something, when man.
ma and Olivia enter hastily, and aunt,
turning to them, observes
"This girl is in a deplorable state of
nervousness. l think we ought not to let
her come with us to-day to Sir David's;
she is not fit for any more excitement"
81 quite agree with you," says mamma;
81 think she had better keep quite
"Of course it is nothing but nervous
ness" repeats Olivia, catching at the con-
venient term. "You don't mind being
left alone, my dear, do you?'
My heart recols from her duplicity.
turn my head aside, and say, wearily-
81 should prefer staying at home. Go,
and never mind me-"
Two o'clock in the afternoon, and Olivia,
mamma and aunt have gone to Sir David
Bigglesworth's to luncheon. My head is
better, and have come down to the draw
ing-room to try to find a volume of German
poems which am translatng. | find the
book and sit down to my self-imposed task
for about half an hour. l steadily try to
fix my attention, but it becomes hopeless
case; the characters dance before my eyes,
Terry's words of the morning ring in my
ears, and l start up, maddened at the
thought of what his opinion would be OF
me if he knew now have acted . throw
the German book upon the table, and sit
ting down to the piano, idly "strum
some watzes hardly knowing what l am
playing; almost unconsciously my fingers
wander off into an old Scotch air, and l
find myself singing softly the refrain of an
old Border song
Win We come beck to me, Douglas?
Win We come back to me moo?
And III be so loving, Douglas
Douglas, tender and true.
hear footstep behind me, and looking
up, l see Terry Stockdale.
"Who is the Douglas you are making
all the promises to, Alice?"
"No one in particular" l say, averting
| my face. "But what brings you back so
| soon?"
"Tll tell you Alice" and he bends his
| head down to mine. "1 came back be
cause l heard that you were not going to
Sir David's, and l wanted an opportunity
to say something to you. hope you can
guess what it s?''
No answer, but burning bushes suffuse
my dropping face as listen to him.
"Alice, dear Alice, will you stay with us
altogether? Mother wants You for
daughter, and l want you for sweet, low
ing wife,
| Again 1 keep silent; he puts his arms
around me, and says
"Alice, love you. If you love me, and
will be my wife, why not say so?'
A desperate struggle arises in my breast.
Shall I accept him, knowing that | have
been wilfully deceiving him, or bravely tell
! the truth, and run the risk of losing him ?
As l recollect the words of the morning.
my heart quails at the thought of his leav-
| ing mel love him so dearly. But | re-
| spect him as much as l love him, he is so
honest and good; and Withdrawing myself
! from his encircling arm, | stand up before
him aud say the first words which occur to
me-
"Terry Il am hypocrite and a liar"
| He starts, and recoils from me step or
two-my hea 1T sinks as see the action
| exclaiming-
"Alice, I hope I misunderstood you.
You hypocrite and liar ~
eyes, Terry-I have been acting lie
ever since l came under this roof; | was
| not delicate at all, but we all wanted to be
| invited here, and SO it was pretended that
| was not strong and required change OF
| air.
"There was no necessity for deceit; you
knew we'll that you were heartily welcome;
so why did you tell a lie about it:
81 hardly like to say
"You must ~ and quail before look
ard voice that feel l dare not disobey.
| 81 knew was doing wrong, but"
hesitate do not wish to bring in nam
mas and Olivia's names, and | do not know
how to avoid it."
$50 on,' he says calmly: don't attempt
to exculpate yourself-it will only make
the matter more complicated"
My heart feels very sore as continue.
"Well, l did so because mamma and
Olivia wished it. They were always tell.
| ing me that | was SO SellSn, anu WOulu
never do anything to please anybody ex.
cept myself; and l admit that was weak
and wicked enough to agree to what they
asked simply because l felt SO miserable
and isolated at being always reproached
with selishness.'
"Efe still looks keenly at me, but makes
| no movement
"And you were acting part Of your les
son in the breakfast-room this morning
and when my mother went to your room. ,
"No, no, Terry-there was no acting
then ~ Heaven know how wicked ant
miserable | have felt since l have beel
here; and this morning when you spoke st
strongly against people who act lies,
thought how you would despise me, and
oh Terry, felt as though | should hav
died ~ and, sinking upon an ottoman,
cover my face with my hands.
He still stands by the piano, and say