The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1875-07-24

me m never to think about my money, and I
tnlnK great deal about it. I'm quite an
old jew at heart, do believe"
maurice rose from his seat with as much
majesty as the statue of old Ralph Coventry,
the crusader, stationed cross-legged in the
chapel at Godiva Castle, could have dis
Played, always supposing the image endowed
with powers of locomotion.
II believe l shall be better off at home"
said this descendant oil iron-handed Ralph.
II am very certain you WILL" returned
Miss Hardy. ''Do be careful of yourself, or
we shall have you ill again."
u don't imagine little cold has complete
iy shattered my constitution" said he,
irritably.
"Bess me! hope not" laughed she: 81
hope, like that of the United States, Y will
last long time in spite of the attack made
upon it"
He smiled absently at her wit his eyes had
wandered away to the spot where Helen May
nsrd stood, the centre of an animated group,
and an odd thought came into his mind
that theirs was like the separations eter-
nifty must bring, within sight and hear
ing, yet worlds away from any possibility of
communion
Take me to the other end of the room,"
said Miss Hardy, ''like an angel of mercy,
for here come three tiresome men who will
jump upon me the instant you are gone"
II don't see why we were all invited here
tonight" grumbled Maurice; s'there's no
dancing-nOthing to do"
II fancy our dear hostess wanted to find
out to how great an extent people may bore
each other without numbering or being MUIR
dered," replied Miss Hardy.
She took his arm and they walked down
the room, pushed against by the crowd until
M9uripa'S pyctfQ6 oil oJo
Between the running fire of absurd remarks
Miss Hardy kept up in an audible tone, and
the horribly verdant dress, Coventry longed
to tell her she reminded him of monstrOus
green fly.
They met Helen Maynard again. Maurice
had to obey the halt Miss Hardy made, and
once more they all stood face to face talking
trlvlalities, until it seemed TO Coventry that
he must assassinate both women, and then
relieve his feelings by going mad.
He got away at last, bat he found little
more peace or rest in the secusion of his
own rooms. Memory chose that opportunity
to torture him, and not an event in his ac-
quaintance with Helen, from their first meet
ing to the time of their final quarrel, omitted
to ipresent itself before him. Life was a
wretchsd failure. and he had made matters
worse by not remaining content with the
misery his quarrel with the woman he loved
had wrought him. He tried to think how
he could have been insane enough to propose
to Miss Hardy-it was useless. He knew
now that he detested her; everything about
her, from her hearty laugh to her habits of
thought, was abhorrent to him, but the dis
covery came too late.
A month passed; when it ended Coventry
was astonished that his hair was not white
and he worn to skeleton, the days had been
so full of annoyance and WEAKNESS, the nights
OF bitter anger and unavaling regret. Ger
tainly he and Miss Hardy were on anything
rather than the terms usual with lovers,
though the engagement still held good.
Maurice made no pretense of tenderness, and
Lucia did not seem to expect or desire it.
She was unvarying in her amiability, though
she shocked him more and more by her ge-
MUS for business, her respect for all its de-
tails, and the smiling impassbility with which
she bore his censure or fretfulness was a con-
slant gOad TO his feelings. He wondered at
her blindness in constantly throwing him in
Helen Maynard's way, and had grown so to
msjudge her that at last he believed it was
because she delighted TO display her empire,
caring nothing for the unpleasantness to him
self or his former love. She so utterly ignor-
ed any knowledge of a past intimacy between
the pair that sometimes he marveled if it
were possible nobody had ventured to gossip
in her presence of the old history. Altogether
he was dreadfully at sea. Only two things
were certain: Miss Hardy had no intention of
giving him up; and the affection which in his
anger he believed killed was stronger and
more passionate than ever. He knew that
often Helen tried to avoid him. The time
came when, without absurd vanity, he knew
too, that she was not so thoroughly indifer-
ent to him as she had supposed herself.
This was harder than all the rest to bear.
hivaII hot hor sr1,& h. L
reach ii, out OF idleness and vexation of spirit,
he had not himself forged chain which
bound him fast.
That Miss Hardy did not love him was an
established fact in his mind. She cared for his
old name, his exceptionally fine position on
both sides OF the Atlantic, and, more than all
the rest,she cared for bis fortune. She was one
of the greatest heiresses of the day, truly, but
no old Hebrew money-lender was ever so
anxious for more. She never scrupled to say
in his presence that money ought to wed
money, and to show in every possible way
that if he had been poor she would never
have considered his station sufficient equiv
alent for her millions in a matrimonial bar
gain. She said this so clearly 70 him finally
that, sitting alone in his room after he had
left her, his discomfort and disgust were sud-
denly Illuminated by brilliant inspiration,
very ancient in novels, but so unusual to act
on in this humdrum era that it deserved the
merit OF originality. He thought it all out
before he went to bed, wrote note to Miss
Hardy to be delivered early in the morning,
and then tried to sleep; but he did nothing
but smoke, get up and lie down, watch the
belated moon stare in between the curtains,
and work himself into hot fever of suspense
and expectation.
The morning came in due course; he
had sworn a thousand times that it never
would. His hurried letter begging for an in
tervew was sent, and an answer arrived ap-
pointing an hour for him to present himself
to his fdncee.
He would not go! He had right, after
her conduct and language, to discover if she
was so utterly caous that she only cared for
his money. If she fell into the ruse, he
would have tight to tell hel the truth, to
show her that she had been weighed in the
balance and found wanting, and overwhelm
her with his scorn as much as if his heart
were crushed by her cold-blooded duplicity.
He was certain of the end; she would re-
lease him without hesitation, her precious
lngots would never be given to gid the name
of man who had lost the worldly possess
sions which were needed to keep up its i'm
portance.
She received him in a room where she
usually spent her mornings; the abominable
account books and long statements of fig
ures, the sight of which had so often fretted
his.soul, were scattered over the table, and in
the midst of his trouble he could see that she
had linked her fingers-eary as it was she
had been solacing herself by little enumer-
alton of Der gains.
"Your note frightened me-" were her first
words, and she actually rose and hurried for
ward to meet him "What on earth has hap
pened? Your letter was so crazy and inco-
herent. l could only make out that the
world had come to an end in some way or
other"
81 shall try now to be little more ez-
plicit," he answered, flushing and growing
pale by turns.
''That's right; sit down here. How tired
you lookup
He would have been glad to choose another
seat, but there was no way of avoiding the
familiar push she gave him into the char by
the table. Like skilful general, she had
placed him with his face full to the light,
while she sat with her back to the window
so that he could hardly distinguish her fea-
lures in the pleasant gloom.
'I'm sure you've not slept all night" she
continued ''Now, own the TRUTH
"1ndeed I have not, didn't come to tell
6bs, Miss Hardy" and all the time he knew
he was behaving shanefqlly, and could only
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