The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1875-05-06


across the setting sun and blotted out
the sunlight; but still Alice paced up
and down under the pollard willows
until the evening was far advanced.
Night was setting in around her; the
light and life were over. She had
scarcely realized until the present mo-
ment how present Mr.. Scrope had been
in her every thought.
The morning after reading the news
in the papers another very startling
piece of information came to her:
She was an heiress.
By one of those strange chances in life
that are so common nowadays, her moth
er's brother, beginning life as an artisan,
had amassed a princely fortune. And
he left it between Alice Jervis and her
brother.
And Alice Jervis sat down and wept
bitterly. To her it had come as o mock
cry. Her lot in life was cast, what did
she want with money now?
In due time she read of the marriage
itself; she cut it out of the paper and
placed it in her pocketbook. 1t was all
over.
Three years slipped away. Three
travellers entered an hotel in q little
foreign town. One, beautiful woman,
a little past her first youth, whom one
knew i'll moment, in spite of the i'm
provement that had taken place; but
her brother was scarcely to be recog-
nized. A tutor and three years of for
eigu life had caused marvellous trans
formation. The third, an elderly lady,
was not much altered, excepting that
her dress was handsome as heart could
desire.
They took their places at the table
d'hote, and exactly opposite to them sat
lady and gentleman. The latter look
ed wearied, and his short black mus
tache twitched with the curving of the
restless mouth beneath it. The lady
was fair, fashionable, and vivacious.
Alice Jervis started. She would have
moved, but William Jervis, all ignorant
of past events, had exclaimed:
"Mr. Scropep'
Mr.. Scrope looked across, wondering
at the friendly recognition from an ap-
parent stranger. Then his eye fell upon
Alice and he started, but quickly recov-
ering himself he bowed, saying
Pardon me if did not at first re-
member you"
Mrs. Scrope had turned in delight
toward William Jervis.
"The first English voice, excepting
my husbands, that have heard for three
weeks. L do not understand italian,
and have consequently had no one to
talk to but Mr.. Scrope. Can you imagine
anything more dreadful 2"
Then turning to her husband she said:
" You must introduce me to your Eng
ish friends"
"Mrs. Scrope-Mrs. and Miss Jervis,"
said Mr.. Scrope, his look riveted on
Alice.
The face that had never left his
memory in spite of his marriage, had
grown to higher beauty than even he
had imagined to be possible. And,
though he knew it not, it had come
about through her striving after an ideal
that she deemed worthy of him.
Stilling the pulses that throbbed so
painfully, Alice conversed with him as
with an old acquaintance, and yet the re-
membrance of their parting on that
moonlight night was vividly present to
both of them.
Mrs. Scrope talked necessarily, the
more especially as William Jervis was
lively talker, with frank, half-iesting,
half-deferential manner that had some
thing very winning in it.
Alice Jervis watched Mrs. Scrope mar
rowly, and wondered why Mr.. Scrope
had married her. And instinctively the
answer came, because he did not care
very much about her, but found that the
alliance would add luster to his career.
There was something paradoxical in the
idea, but it passed with her. She had
argued that if Mr.. Scrope had really
cared for herself, to care much for Mrs.
Scrope was impossible.
So they met, and so they parted, in
the little out-of-the-way Italian town;
and Alice had seen Mr.. Scrope once
more. Was she glad or sorry9
The Scropes returned to England
the Jervises remained abroad. And they
heard nothing more of one another.
Exactly why she had come there she
could not tell. 1t was more to crafty an
old longing than for any definite reason,
though she had persuaded herself into
the belief that she had business at Shell
ford. At any rate, upon the anniversary
Of that day, eight years ago, whsn she
had waited under the yew-tree to say
goodbye to Mr.. Scrope, Alice Jervis
stood with her hand on the wicket-ga
quietly reviewing her life, and once
again asking herself whether love or
pride had had the greater part in her
decision.
The branches of the yews were waving
gently, the roses were rustling their sill
leaves, and the white moon
light fell upon the graves. Still with her
hand upon the garden gate, she looked
towards the church, trying to believe
that the years had stood still, and she
was there waiting for Mr.. Scrope.
She was turning away when O dark |
figure approached her and well-remem-
Dered voice said:
"Miss Jervis!"
"Mr. Scrope !" /
"Yes; was waiting for you. / wish |
I'd to see you before you went away"
Almost her own words in their last in |
jervieT.
She looked up at him half fearfully.
It was so strange to see him there at that
lour of night, Hud an almost supersti-
ious awe crept over her.
81 wanted to tell you that you have
'uined my life so far. 1 heard that you
we're at Shelford. 1 knew that you would
'e here tonight, and have come to ask
'ou if you repent the past, and are will
ng to atone for it. +"
Alice shrank back.
f" Mr. Scrope!" was all she could say.
"The inferiority, if there be any. is
N my side" he said; "you have i'm