Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1875-03-11
CHAPTER XXI.
THE FIRE.

Mr.. Blandford having merely informed hi
wife that important business called him un
expectedly from home (for in her present fee
BILE state he did not dare to impart to her th'
news he had received) started Immediately fol
Charleston, when he set out the very mex
morning by rail for New York. We will no.
accompany him thither but remain at Tht
Cedars, where another startling scene in thi
little drama was about to be enacted.
1t was the second evening after Mr.. Bland
ford's departure, and Edmund was sitting
with Estelle in the well-lit library, where 6
comfortable fire was burning; the tea-things
had just been removed, and Estelle prepared
herself for delightful Hted.tste with her be-
trothed, of whom she had hitherto seen but
little since their engagement.
But Edmund looked grave and rather pre-
occupied, and seemed but little inclined to
talk, or atany rate to go beyond the mere
conventional remarks which he might have
uttered with equal propriety in the presence
of any number of listeners. Estelle wondered
then grew displeased at his reticence Was
this his notion of lovers behavior? He
might, at least, come to her side; might take
her hand, and make some little speech to show
her that she was enshrined in his heart; some
allusion to the bond that had been lately es'
tablished between them.
At last half laughing, half in petulance
she exclaimed
"What on earth makes you so dull and ST.
lent, Mr.. Delaney? Am to think that there
is no more inspiration in my presence than in
that of these chairs or tables, or of the fire
which you seem to be studying so intently2"
Edmund started slightly, and colored at the
implied rebuke; then smiling, though in a
constrained manner, he rose from the chair
he had occupied and moved to one nearer to
her. She, however, also rose, and with the
same mixture of jest and earnest as BEFORE
changed her own seat to more distant one
81 can see you better from here, if you
please, and read in your face the confession
that your lips are too polite to utter; not a
fattering one to me, must acknowledge"
"What confession do you mean, Estelle p
"The confession that you are bored, or
vexed, or something; and that l have no
power to remove the SPELL"
81 am neither bored nor vexed ; but | have
been thinking very earnestly about some
thing-more earnestly than | am in the habit
of thinking at most times"
"Don't you think you might reserve such
earnest thoughts for your hours of soitude?'
81 have not the power, in this case; for
they concern you."
"Me! am honored. I suppose, then,
may know what they are ?"
II fear, if l tell you, 1 may make you
angry"
"Mystery upon mystery! You make me
conclude, at all events, that they are not of a
complimentary nature"
"Dear Estele," said Edmund, very serious
ly, 81 don't think, as matters stand, that there
ought to be any reserve between US now, and
that is why don't make secret of the an
noyances I have felt; but l have no doubt
that you can easily set my mind at rest, and
explain away what has puzzled me, so l am
going to be very frank with you, even at the
risk of exciting your displeasure."
Estelle's color mounted, and she bit her lips.
Her pride and selfwil were already reused
by his tone, and she mentally resolved not to
submit to any catechizing or lecturing, if it
should be his intention to bestow it upon her.
"Have your leave to speak p he continued.
"Certainly," she rejoined sarcastically; 81
would not venture to lay any restriction upon
your frankness."
"You make it little difficult for me to ex-
ercise it. However, the point in question is
briefly this Will you tell me candidly
whether you were aware of your mothers ILL
ness before you went to the Testers party the
other night p
Estelle's color deepened to carnation.
pray" she rejoined very haughtiy, "tell
me first what right you have to put that ques-
ton to me, or how it can in any way concern
you to know"
"My position gives me the right to ask the
question:"
"That I deny" she interrupted.
"And the deep interest [ naturally feel in
the girl who is my promised wife, leads me to
question any action of hers, which is so open
to misconstruction, and for which l am anx-
ious to find an excuse-more anxious, Estelle,
than can possibly express. am sure you
will not refuse me the explanation want7"
He spoke entreatingly, and again approach
ing her, laid his hand on hers. Estelle shook
off the hand, and all angry retort rose to her
lips; but a second thought made her hesitate.
Should she destroy the whole fabric of glory
and happiness she had so lately erected for
herself, by entering on quarrel with Edmund,
which might not be capable Of being healed,
or rather seek, by plausible explanation, to
remove his prejudice, as she termed it, and re-
establish herself in his good opinion?
She considered for moment, and then,
turning toward him sad and pleading face,
and eyes full of tears, she replied, in a low
and touching voice
81 see plainly, Edmund, that some one has
been misrepresenting to you an unhappy mis-
take Of mine, which has never ceased to haunt
and grieve me since l committed it, do not
think that you would, of your own accord,
believe any evil of me, wilful and headstrong
though l sometimes am"
Edmund was on the point Of protesting,
with newly awakened ardor, his perfect con-
viction that she would never willingly do any
thing wrong or unkind, when their converse