Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-04-29

gazed out toward the yew tree under
which she had parted with Mr.. Scrope,
and then suddenly untwisting her long
| hair she turned to the looking glass, not
with any feeling of vanity, but in order to
find what had so attracted him.
! 1t was more than a handsome face tina.
answered back her gaze, one which showed
an amount of earnestness and intelligence
not often met with. Of this she was no
! Judge herself, neither of the continual
! change of expression which Mr.. Scrope
had begun by curiously Observing, and
ended by being thoroughly interested in.
| He was passing the long vacation at
| ShelfOrd reading and fishing, and had
made the acquaintance of William Jervis
on the banks of the river, and through
| him, whom it was a condescension on the
! part of Mr.. Scrope to notice, of Alice
| herself.
| Alice perhaps understood the footing
| on which they stood better than her brother,
| and the innate pride in her nature caused
| her to accept it with reservations She
! felt the gulf between them and measured it
| by the worlds standard Therefore when
| Mr. Scrope made his somewhat startling
| offer she, in spite of her surprise, was not
| unprepared with her answer.
And now that she had given 1t, she
asked herself if she had done right.
Mr.. Scrope was an only son; a brilliant
future was before him. world of which
she knew nothing was familiar to him.
Could she, who was accustomed to the little
| nesses incident to circumstances somewhat
above actual poverty, move with prOpriety
| in circles accustomed to every luxury !?
| Would his relatives, SO far above hers, ac-
cept her and her belongings? She an
swered "No." Mr. Scrope had argued
| what matter since it rested with him to
| give her place and position in the world as
| his wife? But that she knew would be a
| separation for him from ali former associa-
| tiOns, and her own unftness to move in
| her lovers sphere would make her clog
| upon the life of him to whom, before she
| knew it, she had given her heart.
Such had been the train of argument
! she had pursued, and she had struggled
| free from the prospect open to her, not
| without pain, and had dismissed it as a
| dream of beauty that had naught to do
with waking hours. And now
But it was over The morning rose
and she went about her tasks as usual,
| perhaps even more energetically, since
| she needed an outlet for her pent-up feel
| ings. Mingled with pain there came a
| sense of happiness in the knowledge of
Mr.. Scrope's love. To have possessed it
| nay, perhaps to possess it still-carried
her into another world in which, however,
she must always be alone, since all that
had passed must forever remain her oNn
| especial secret.
Mr.. Scrope went abroad; and after a
time he returned home to begin his Ca
reer.
Alice Jervis pursued her homely and
mOnotonous life She grew quieter and
| graver and worked more diligently. She
| believed that she had decided rightly as
regarded Mr.. Scrope's happiness, and the
sacrifice she had made for his sake made
her feel that she had a right to be interest
ed in him, and she lived in the excitement
of seeing his name in the papers and in
| gaining every particular OF him within
her grasp. She smiled when she read his
name among the presentations at court Or
noted his presence at the court balls. At
such times she looked down at the shabby
dress and the poor appointments sur
| rounding her and wondered what sort of
an appearance she would have made in
other circumstances.
| At length she saw another announce
ment. Mr.. Scrope was going to be mar
ried
She turned pale and put down the pa
| per.
And yet she had expected this announce
ment-had looked for it day after day.
| Nevertheless, she felt strange pang
which as long as he was unmarried she
had escaped.
Down by the river, where the water
| flags hoisted their yellow standards among
the reeds, and where the forge-me-nots
! blossomed along the banks, she sauntered
| listening to the murmuring waters, whose
burden was Past, past, past" Even
Rover appeared to understand it, for he
looked up in her face and whined.
| The great gray bars of clouds spread
across the setting sun and blotted out the
sunlight; but still Alice paced up and down
under the pollard until the even
ing was far advanced. Night was setting
in around her; the light and life We're
over. She had scarcely realized until the
| present moment how present Dir. 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
had left it between Alice Jervis and her
| brother.
And Alice Jervis sat down and wept bit
terly. To her it had come as mockery.
Her lot in life was cast; what did she want
with money now?
In due time she read of the marriage it
self; she cut it out of the paper and
placed it in her pocket-book. It was all
over.
Three years slipped away. Three trav-
elers entered a hotel in little foreign
town. One, beautiful woman, a little
past her first youth, whom one knew in a
moment in spite of the improvement that
had taken place; but her brother was
scarcely to be recognized A tutor and
three years of foreign life had caused a
marvellous transformation. The third, an
elderly lady, was not much altered, ex-
cepting that her dress was handsome as
heart could desire.
They took their places aRhe table d'hote,
and exactly opposite to them sat a lady
and gentleman. The latter looked wearied,
and his short, black mustache twitched
with the curvings of the restless mouth