New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1875-02-14
NEW ORLEANS REPUBLICAN, SUNDAY FEBRUARY Il, 1875

=
you are gone. There is a kind of-ot
rest in the very thought that you are
here"
Butt is all unrest and misery for me. y
TIE hand she has offered him is clasped
in his-close and tight-just for enc no
ment, as the words rush from his lips:
but almost before 50 has comprehended
them he has turned away that she may
not read upon his face what it would be
treachery in him to tell her.
"Now, Clare" calls Sir Victor's voice
from the hall; 'cone, dear. Foster
pleads business, so we must so alone,
after all
Clare leaves the room With a burning
blush upon her cheeks.
1t is not quite two months since she
came home, full Of dazzling hopes, and
now they have all merged in quiet hope
lessness which is like pain.
Through her long ride, her thoughts 60
back over those two months; and even
Sir Victor, through ell his conversation
with his daughter, finds his thoughts wan.
dering backward, too, over the short span
of time through which he has had his
darling with him. He recalls that doubt
which has harassed him uncomfor.ably at
first, and now that he knows that Victor
is coming, be is surprised that it had ever
power to hurt him. He recalls how, from
the very first, Foster has kept aloof from
his daughter; perhaps in consequence OF
what had been told him; perhaps in the
fear Of trusting himself; perhaps only
from being engrossed in his work
He recalls how at first there has been
no avoidance visible in Clares man.
ner; on the contrary, in her hap
piness she has done all she could to
make her home home, too, to the young
man who has never been allowed to feel
himself stranger among them. But he
recalls, too, that after a while change
came in her behavior to Allan Foster.
Sometimes she took the old ready and
sincere interest in his work, lettering with
him over it, and even joining him in it,
but at others she Stunned the library,
only entering it under the shelter of her
fathers presence, and then sitting quite
still, while the father at such times could
hardly recognize his happy, radiant child.
But, while he had remarked all this, the
baronet fancied he had understood the
reason Of his daughters hayward, change
able moods. Victor's coming would
now be much in her thoughts,
and would make her grave and reticent at
times. So the two months have passed,
and the cousin, to whom Clare is be-
trothed, cen never recall them.
Sir Victor sits alone in his library, but
The shaded lamp sheds little light except
upon the secretary's empty chair. Sir
Victor has been sitting there reading
over his latest written pages, but now he
oas turned to the fire, and fallen deep in
hought. Another letter from his nephew
las fixed his arrival at The Roveries
definitely for two weeks hence. By that
ime Sir Victor rejoices to think the book
will be finished, and he and Glare will be
lone to welcome him. If Glare would
,nly show little more real gladness in
he anticipation of Victor's coming. If
he would only look little more like she
ooked on the night when she first came
ZONE!
"Father, father dear, let me sit here
With you"
1t is the voice that has been recalling
tself sadly to him in his solitude; and
he face that leans against his soldier is
ne face whose memory has been paining
i'm.
Dear" he answers, stroking her hair
nth wonderful tenderness, where should
on be so welcome as here with ne? Shall
take the shade from Fosters lamp"
Don't mind, papa''-the pleading
ands are clasped about lis arm TIE |
leading eyes are raised to Lis-:.I-I |
Ike the dusk. I want to talk to YOU a !
tile, and we always liked talking in the
relight, didn't We? Papa, when will the
ook be ready"
"Why, my dear, you don't mean to say
lat you need the lamp shaded to ask
The fathers words are light enough,
ut his heart begins to fail hin little, !
%, as he listens to the struggle in his
aids voice, and sees the longing in her
res.
sit will be finished by the day Victor
'mes. Rest content with that, my pet"
"And Victor comes-in two weeks
me?"
"In two weeks time exactly. It will
on pass, pet; don't be impatient"
Father, wasn't it Victor himself who
ked you to engage Mr. FOSTER"
''Yes, dear; and very much indebted I
q to him, though / shall be thoroughly
ad when Foster has finished and cone
,m here"
For one moment Clare's breath comes
tn quick, sharp pain. Father" she |
llspers, ''will you come away for those
o weeks-away from here-you and |
ly:"
My dear, he answers, in quick won
rment, 1.-The thing is impossible. Don't &
4 see that if could leave Foster alone 6
his work l should not be SO anxious for
q to finish before Victor's ARRIVAL"
Then, papa, will you take me away a
leave me, ard-and only fetch me '
ne when Victor is come-is really s
e?" =
'ir Victor raises the white face and r
es s.eadfastly down into the feverish l.
S. But his words are grave to stern
My child, can you have been-eyen n
one hour-untrue to yourself, untrue
ne, untrue to Victor?" C.
he girls brave, gentle answer is but
uttered, when the door is opened, Il
olr victor $ secretary walks quietly b
ard his desk. .
No more writing tonight, Foster" W
baronet says, in an unusual tone OF Y,
* authority. ''But stay moment. d.
you are here, I may as well tell you of "
present arrangements. Tomorrow cl
hing Miss Luhorne and 1 leave the ht
cries for a-for-for a few weeks.
have engaged to have your copying ia
pleted In fourteen days, and l hope W.
will not fail in that engagement. WI
Ugh l shall not be here to refer to. ~
leave it all to you; but you are SO
ect and careful that l have no hesita- 81
IN doing So I am sorry TOTO be We
ID away so suddenly, Foster: doubly ne
I. becauSe=, Sir Victor hroal-s Is | v.