The Morning herald., 1876-10-31
heart, and gave another turn to his think

heart, and gave another turn to his think
ing. The woman who was to be his wife
The briiliant-eyed and lifeful beauty who
had promised herself to him-she would
grace the queenliest of all the CROWNS
Heaven ble4s her! How different world
her life be, how heaped with happiness,
when once it was given into his keeping
He rang the bell.
Mounting to the little room where Cecile
was waiting to receive him, he took her
hand in his, and murmured on of those
greetings of which the words are the merest
nothing, before he was quite aware that
Madeline was in existence. When Cecile
said, in her timid, pretty fashion, my sis
ter Madeline, Mr.. Abinger," he raised his
eyes to her for the first time. Cecile was
looking at her sister; for she longed to
read the impression that Philip would
make, and save herself the waiting until he
was gone before she could hear it. She
observed her sisters face with wonder. The
unusual color that excitement had brought
into her cheeks paled quite away, leaving
them white; her calm, deep eyes lightened
! with an expression very foreign to them,
and sank as suddenly and heavily as if their
lashes had been lead faint shiver ran
through her shoulders, as though a cold
wind had blown on her she looked all
most like one vino struggles to repress a
sudden terror.
1t was minute, perhaps, during which
neither responded to the introduction, and
then Philip Abinger stepped forward and
took her hand, muttering some common
place remarks. Neither Of them under
stood the phrases, nor cared 10, and he
! turned away with strange air OF troubled
| constraint.
Poor Cecile's face discovered her disap-
pointment. 1t vas hard to think that these
two should dislike each other, even from
the very first, as it was too plainly evident
they did-these two, upon whose affection
| for each othershe had built so many cloud
castles that must now fall like the rest Of
them.
But before long Philips savior-faire and
Cecile's pretty attempts to entertain him
| warmed the first frosty air into one of pleas
ant freedom. Madeline joined in the talk
after while, which soon became animated
enough, yet with still al indescrible sha-
dow in the midst Of all the causerie.
When he had gone away, Cecile curl led
herself on the floor at her sisters feet, with
her warm, bright hair shining down her
shoulders. u
"He is not, is he, quite what you fancied
he would be, Madeline, dear?" half whis-
pering the tender words.
"What fancied? said Madeline, with
odd impotence. "But what has that to 90
with it? He is not my fairy prince, &C.
| cile." "But," sne added, with a quick
change Of expression that covered the for
mer one, "Still he will do very we'll for one
considering the days he lives in. like
him-yes, Cecile."
"But you are disappointed, Madeline" :"
said CeciIe, raising her eyes doubtfully.
"Am I?' Madeline held her head on
one side in characteristic fashion, looking
fxedly at the Goals dying in the CRATE.
mo, Cecile, l do not think l am. You
surely would not have me value him quite
so highly as you do?
Two great tears had gathered slowly in
Cecile's violet eyes and rolled unnoticed
down her cheeks while her sister was
speaking. She made NO answer, for her
voice was untrustworthy. ,
! Madeline rose and went to the dressing
glass, beginning to take down and braid
her hair. She looked into the mirror at
the pale, handsome face before her, with
uneasy shadowed eyes beneath the contract
ed brows.
What her thoughts were it would be
hard to guess, but they surely were not
pleasant. A long, suppressed sigh stihed
painfully on the lips, caught her ear pres
emily, and with sudden horror Of herself
she turned from the glass and walked i'm
| pulsively to her sister. Sne leaned over
with both hands on her shoulders, hating
herself for the shiver Of repulsion that ac-
companied the act, and kissed her tendery
twice on the forehead.
Philip Abinger wondered at himself no
more as he walked down in front Of the
block of boarding houses. 1t was the path
that his teet were most accustomed to tread
nowadays, and he seldom came hither
without some rare token from the upper
world, some fruit or flower which had
hitherto been but name to these dwellers
in the barron shadows ofpoverty.
Yet Cecile was not quite happy. There
was no open enrnity between Philip and
Madeline, but far less the quiet agreement
and affection she had once hoped for. There
was an avoidance, restlessness, as their
eyes met and often an unaccountable ten
derness in their words. Yet Philip, she
knew, came sometimes when he was aware
that her duties took her from home. So
she still vaguely and without much reason,
promised herself the time would come
when they would forget their strange an