New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1875-02-14

L
young mans face, ''that I may tell you
what is yet only known to ourselves. For
many years there has been an engagement
between my nephew-a young man still,
though now the head Of our house-and
my daughter, and it is to be ratified as
soon IS she is eighteen, when, according
to the terms of my will, she comes of age.
by this union, you see, the old estate,
which has belonged to our family for 500
years, will revert, as it were, to my branch,
without departing from its lawful inherit
or, and my daughter will share the title of
which am SO proud"
| No answer. Foster is leisurely sealing
his letter, gazing indifferently down upon
the Luhorne arms emblazOned in vermil-
ion on the envelope.
| "Foster, when may promise my man
uscript? Can it be completed. by-at any
rate-the end of May?"
Hardly, Sir Victor, can not promise
any greater progress than am making
now, as I devote all my time to it. It
would be safer for you to say the end of
June"
Every we'll. Of course I shall be glad
when it is finished, though I shall miss
you from your post then"
The baronet says this with an effort,
perhaps because he is trying to think the
wish matter of duty, perhaps because he
is trying to think the matter of duty his
wish.
"What do you think to do after you
leave the Roveries?
II intend to try for similar employment
elsewhere, Sir Victor; but do not need
to think of it until the time comes"
Remember always, Foster" says the
baronet, meeting almost wistfully the
grave, handsome eyes which he has
grown so strangely fond of meeting in his
solitary rooms, shat whatever writing l
have which you can do for me shall like
you to do, especially when-when my
daughter has left me again in solitude"
The young man thanks him with q
quietness which has touch of pride in
it, then continues his writing, and Sir
Victor says no more.
II.
Clare is out among the flowers, singing
to herself in the brightness of the morn
ing sunshine. She has a half-blown
gloire de Dion ready for her fathers but
tonhole, and now she wants only spray
of jasmine to complete the dainty bouquet
1Or the breakfast taDle.
'Clare, come in pet. Breakfast is wait
ing, and SO am I. Besides, have a letter
to show you"
She comes in through the window and
puts her basket down upon chair, then
she fastens the rose in her fathers coat.
81 have plenty of time, papa. See, Mr..
Foster is not down yet, and he is never
late"
''Not down! Why, he breakfasted an
hour ago, pet. He is working away now
as if he had never left his desk since last
night"
Clare's head droops little lower over
the rose. Her fingers are less def than
usual; but Sir Victor is patient enough-he
likes to have her there SO close beside
him.
"You don't ask for the letter, dear.
Here it isl
han reading it."
As she speaks, Clareytakes her place at
he table, leaving the flowers upon the
,hair-those chosen flowers which were
% have frightened and beautifed this
neal.
mo, you must read it; for q more
letter Victor could not have
written. He is in England now, and
lopes to see us in few days time. He
avs SO much Of you, pet, that the least Won
an do will be to read his loving words"
Because her father holds the letter
oward her, Clare takes it.
"Any day he may be here now" Sir
ictor says, as he sits opposite his
aughter, needless of the vacant place
QfWaor thorn v.,;ch
nished, though it must be no drawback -,
Victors pleasure. If he has your So ,
ETY., he will not object to losing mine
G
Clare is bending over her cousins let
r, yet all she clearly sees there, even d
Nv. is her own name repeated again and y
'aln, and the one at the close, "Victor a
uhorne." For all the seventeen years of b
r life these two words have been good
her to hear or see-until now. a
'The change will be pleasant for you, b
It. her father adds, "and do you good. b
~ have been too long alone here with
o such studious fogies as Foster and g
g." e,
The bright pink rises slowly and shyly n
the girls cheeks. She leans little
yer over the open page; but there fc
ows no meaning in the words even yet. to
Victor can not, at any rate, arrive
IS morning." continues the baronet, hi
D we need not give up our ride. I am al
xious not to delay my investigations at to
quarries. 1t would disappoint Eos.
, too. who seldom allows himself an th
1rs holiday. May tell him you will OF
k in and summon him when you are Al
dy? That will prevent his wasting M
7 time" M
,lare's wistful eyes follow her father as RI
leaves the room, then wander on be- Yo
I'd the open window, out among the co
lit leaves. But the brightness there is 70
what it was before that letter came, tn
which her hands are idly lying now to m,
e the loving confident words. col
Ter morning tasks are over, and in her tic
it and hat she enters the shadow cal
airy to summon Mr.. Foster. sol
Please to come now, Mr.. Foster. We bel
ready" chs
e is standing at the table, sorting the I n
es he has already written, and he only lea
ICES up for an instant as he answers goo
am not going, thank you, Miss Lu- slo
lie. inf
er eyes are grave in their questioning, is
Ugh his do not meet them. ''Why is tur
Do not say again that you can not :.
e the time. Surely the old reason is tell
potent to-day" how
The old reason is doubly potent to- my
Miss Luhorne. will take no leisure
until my work is finished" 6f
20 you mean-the girls face is winter do '
usual, but restless light burns in fron
eyes-that you think we want this kee,
over which-which keeps you with and
lr. Foster, because my-my cousin is of al