The Portland daily press., 1875-06-09

can never be now; and-and II on my prtn-
day YOU love me tonight, come back Tor me:
/ will be ready thep." There Is quiet hand
shake between them; then Sir Victor 'ad-
dresses his daughter:
ssYou will decide as you choose, OF course,
but nv decision, made tonight, will never
change. On the day when you deliberately
tell me it is your intention to be Fosters
wife, your name shall be taken from my will.
No daughter of mine shall belong to man
who has acted with such cowardly deceit and
treachery. Fool that was to bring him herel
Fool that Victor was to send him"
Foster has left the room now, and the Ia
ther and daughter are alone.
"Papa," she pleads with wide ana Ifignt-
ened eyes, stake back that VOW CoutG you
send me from YOU forever because l choose
him before Victor? Why not give me to the
one love? and would be near you, father;
and-and you like him; you have often told
me so. You never can send me away--your
only child! Take back that one VOW, father;
never mind the other! Let everything go to
Victor, if may only keep your love-"
But the cry is only answered by tremu-
lous, wrathful repetition of the vow, and Clare
sinks down and hides her face as the words
are uttered.
CHAPTER ".
1t is the day before Clares birthday, and
while the carriage Is at the station waiting
for the family solicitor, Sir Victor speaks to
his daughter for the first time on that subject
which has never been mentioned by either
since Allan Foster left the Roveries.
"Before Burton comes" he says, Il Will
give YOU another chance of telling me that
your mind is changed, Clare"
s'My hecrt is not changed, father. 1t can
never change"
ssThen if you go to him to-morrow''-the
baronet's words are slow and bitter beyond
telling-"you go Appendices girl: DO you
imagine what burden you will feel your
self upon him, and how soon you Will begln
to repent most bitterly the day you left your
old luxurious life9 Do you ever imagine
how you will fret and chafe and replne IN
such home as he can give your
az have tried to think OF everything, father.
think Allan works so hard that we need
not be very poor. He never has written, but
believe he will come tomorrow"
Sir Victor turns his scornful face away.
Gle will drag you down 10 penury, then
work on my weak love for you, to induce Ihe
to rescue YOU and help him. But it will be
useless.'' Now make your decision, Clare.
After to-day it will be too late."
81 have decided never to be false to Allan,
father. Oh father, let me send for him
here. Let him just once plead with you him
our happy life together-yours and mine BE
broken suddenly aud miserably, as you have
said it shall?"
For a moment there flashes into his mind
the dread of what his life must be without
her, now that this year OF close companion
ship has knit their hearts together in so firm
and true love. But pride is stronger than
such memories, and he has not turned when
Mr.. Burton is announced.
For the while after Sir Victor and his law
yer are closeted together, then Clare meets
them at dinner. 1t Is silent meal, yet
when it is over she leaves the room unwill-
inely. She is sitting lstlessly before the fire,
when the old lawyer enters. He has known
her from her birth; and Clare listens, almost
as she would listen to her father, when he
begins to speak to her, with an unusual gray
| ity on his kind, keen face.
'"You know, believe, Miss Luhorne, OIL
| the change which have been summoned
here to-day to make in your fathers wilr'
"Yes."
"Can YOU assure me that you really under
stand Sir Victors present will, drawn up and
signed and witnessed, legal in every whyi
| All the property which should be yours is be-
queathed to you cousin, Victor Luhorne, O.
Chine Abbey. Do you know this, and thai
you are left literally without penny ofyoul
81 know" she answers quietly; 81 know Il
Is to 90 from me-"
'sBut why should it go from you? Are yor
not sorry already?"
II am very sorry" she answers slowly
very, very sorry. but cannot change"
ssThink again, Miss Clare" he says, watch
| ing her intently. ''Let me put the case be-
tore you in its practical aspect. l can show
| YOU the finishes of your own infatuatlon,
| and it is not too late to change even now.'
ut is too late for me to changes" she an
swers simply. 81 have had whole year to
think one thought, and 1t is TOO nrm one &c
be shaken now"
cat any rate I shall wait over tomorrow
to see. You will surely be more reasonable
when you have come of age. Think over il
| all. Miss Glare. Picture your fathers disap'
pointment in the failure of his pleasant plans
| for YOU and Mr.. Luhorne. Where is he, by
the wayr'
sHe is abroad again. wrote to him al
once when Mr. Foster went from here, and
| told him-everything. In his reply he sald
he should 60 abroad again at once"
els he returning soon ~
ct think so. know papa hopes 3d."
Sand go do I. Now l am going to have 6
smoke, Miss Glare. Sir Victor has gone te
| his room. He seems tired and harassed; and
| no wonder. Good night, my dear. In the
morning shall have the pleasure of hearing
quite different decision from your lips"
he speaks with CHEEKY confidence, but In
his heart he knows that the girls choice will
never be other than tonight.
Si- Victors room is all darkness when
Clare softly enters it, carrying no light. he
cannot see her face as she kneels beside the
bed, but he can guess her anguish, when he
hears her broken and beseeching words.
ic 60 hA nj
| miserable for me. Can you really say that
YOU will never see or speak to me again ii
marry Allan? Won't you call back those cru.
ell words, father? How can you Danish me
| Think what we have been to each other-we
| two-only we two-bound by such holy tie
| Can YOU break a link which God Himself has
made! What is Victor, that he should
come between and separate usP Gould
cousin have parted you and my mother years
ago? Think of your love for her. And, ia
ther-in pity to me-think of her love fol
you.'' :,
swers, icily. "Do not name them together
Not one OF all your race has acted as you are
acting now. Never speak to me again. Clare.
until you have resolved to obey me-"
Alone again in darkness, after bis child ha'
left him, Sir Victor repeats to himself AGAR
and again that the morrow will make al
right. ''Even though Foster comes he ADDS
In whisper to himself. "Even though ht
comes, and he may not come, Tor he has mo-
written" ,
But in the morning Glare is gone. No wed
ding chime is pealing from the church across
the park, but Sir Victor knows that hi
daughter is married to Allan Foster that day
CHAPTER v.
Sir Victor sits unoccupied In bis lonely
library. The unfinished MS. lies on the ia
BILE, but the old baronet avoids now the very
sight of what for so long has been his pride
and pleasure. He does not venture to &C
knowledge, even to himself, how sorely he
misses his child's voice and step about the
house, which has grown so desoate now,
though only two days have passed since she
left it. Sir Victor takes an open letter from
the table near him, and reads it for the sec
ond time, with little CLEAN of pleasure in
his stern, worn face. 1t is from his nephew
who is at home in England at last, and writes
to ask Sir Victor to 60 and see him, because
he is forcibly kept at home at present. ~ am
not exactly ILL.," he writes, " but still moi
able to leave home. Do come, Uncle Victor
Indeed. shall so thoroughly depend upon
you that shall send to meet every train
from the first one you could take to the one
which brings YOU"
II will CO., the barone a decides t;; with IT,
us-from me, / mean. He is noble fellow
o,J oop pouor foront b,aw we have treated