The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1875-07-28

her husbands arms. She remembered
that on that day when his hand touched
hers it was as cold and powerless as her
own, and that his listlcss face was even
paler than usual under the spring sunshine
streaming in at the church windows; but
in spite of this, he had done the honors of
the breakfast table, toasted the bride and
the bridegroom, complimented the brides
maids, and fascinated everybody, with
all the finished grace and marvellous ease
OF the all-accompllshed Horace Margrave
And if Ellinor had ever thought that she
had right, for auld lang syne, for her
dead fathers sake, or for her own lovely
face, TO be anything more or dearer to
Mr.. Margrave than the most Indifferent
of his clients; that thought was dispelled
10y the gentlemanly sang froid of his adieu,
as the four paving bays started off on the
first stage to Windermcre.
Ii is the end of June, and she is seated
in the small drawing-ro room, awaiting the
advent of morning visitors. They have
been a week in town, and Horace Mar
grave has not called upon them She has
a weary air this morning, and she seems
10 seek in vain for something to occupy
her. Now she strolls to the open piano,
and plays a few chords, or a brilliant run,
or softly touches the notes of some pensive
air, and sings some Italian words; now
she takes up an uncut novel from the
table, and reads page or two here and
there, wherever the book opens; she
walks to an embroidery>frame, and takes
a great deal oftrouble in selecting and com
pairing woods, and threading needles, but
when this is accomplished, she does not
DO three stitches; then she loiters listless,
ly about the room, looking at the pic
lures, chiefly valuable engravings, which
adorn the pale silver>gray walls; but at
last she is so utterly weary, that she
filings herself INTO a deep easy chair close
to the open window; and sits idly looking
down across lilliputian forest of hello
tropes and geranlums into the hot sum,
mer street.
She is looking very lovely; but she is
not looking at all happy. The rich
masses of her dark brown hair are swept
away from her broad low brow, and Sc
cured in coil ofsuperb plats at the back
Of her head; her simple white morning
dress is only ornamented by large knots o.
broad violet ribbon, and she wears nc
jewelry whatever, except tiny, slender
gold chain, which she twists perpetually
in and out Of her white fingers.
She sits for about half an hour, AWAY.
looking down across the plants in the bal
cony at the pavement opposite, when sh'
suddenly starts, and wrenches the thin
chain off her fingers in Eer agitation.
She has seen the person for whom sh,
has been waiting. A gentleman, who
lounges lazily along the other side Of tn
street, crosses the road beneath the win
dow, and knocks at the door.
AT last" she SAYS, "now, perhaps
this mystery will be explained
A servant announces, "Mr. Margrave.
AT LAST she says again, rising as h
enters the room. "Oh, Mr.. Margrave,
have been so anxious to sec you"
. He looks about on the crowded table {,
find, amongst its fashionable litter, plac
for his hat, fails in doing so, and puts
5 down on a chair, and only then look
listlessly up at her and says
Anxious to see me, my dear Ellinol
why anxious?"
because there arc two or three ques
tons which | must ask-which YOU mus
e answer"
: That peculiar expression in Horac
a Margrave's eyes which was as it wer
4 shiver of the eyelids, passed over then
d now; but it was too brief to be perceive
e by Ellinor Dalton. He sank lizily into
F. chair; near her own, but not opposite t
n it. He paused to place this chair wit
Is its back to the light. and then said,-
d "My dear Ellinor, my dear Mrs. Dal
,r ton, what questions can you have to as
d me, but questions of purely bushes
" character; and even those, imagin,
d your husband, who is quite as practical
=. man as myself, could answer as well &
II"
~ Mr.. Dalton is the very last person
le whom l can apply for an answer to Il
r. questions which / have to ask ~
IN "And why the last person."
ID "Becuase those questions relate to hin
in self -
r "Oh, see! Ny dear Mrs Dalton,
not this rather a bad beginning? Yc
Ill appeal from your husband to your sole
be tor"
1e 'No, Mr.. Margrave appeal to IL
h, guardian. !"
r. Pardon me, my dear Ellinor, there
lis no such person. He is defunct; he is c
nd tinct From the moment | placed yor
ch hand in that of your husband on Il
Sc altar steps of st. Georges, Hanov
er Square, my duties, my right to advi
you, and your right to consult me, e
m, PRED. Henceforth you have but O.
he guardian, one adviser, one friend, al
he his name is Henry Dalton"