Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1876-02-01

sion and grounds OF Beechwood. Mrs.
Milton was not s woman to accept this
ues'lny contentedly. Her sole object was
to recover her lost position. Lite was
nothing to her without luxury and show.
Is she saw no way OF returning to New
lork, except as the mother of a wealthy
son'in law, her Whole aim, since her
daughter had left school, had been to
man@uyre for grand match for Maud.
But there was one obstacle in the way.
IL earlier and happier days, Rupert AL.
hngton and Maud had been playmaies,
and The childish affection, at which the
parents on both sides had then laughed.
instead OF dying out, SIS is usual. had now
developed into a maturer love. that
threatened to thwart all Mrs. Milton s
plans. For Rupert, too, was penniess.
His fsther had been ruined in the same
CONFUSION that had carried down Mr..
Milton, and the young man bad nothing
on which 70 depend, except what his
brains aud hands could earu. In every
way Mrs. Milton had discouraged the
attachment, and when Rupert, finally had
accepted situation in Australia, in the
hope OF making his fortune. and had
boldly gone to her with his suit, she had
positively forbidden him the house. This
had brought matters to a crisis. Resolved
not TO leave tho country without part
ing interview with Maud. he had svsiled
himself OF Mr.. S,uart's tete. to which he
had gone in disguise, and uninyited, as
We have seen, having first had note
secretly conveyed to Maud, telling her OF
his intention, of the dress he intended to
wear, and OF the spot where TO expect
him.
The next day Rupert lei! New York TOR
Australia, and Mrs. Milton, when she
read his name iu the list of passengers,
uttered $ silent ejaculation Of than6s,
little dreaming of the interview which
had taken place the afternoon before, or
OF the solemn pledge then given.
Douglas Stuart had been telling him.
self. tor several yeSrs past, that he had
done with faith and lis hope.; Lu. when
ho became acquainied with Maud Milton,
he soon discovered his error. Before the
summer, which threw her in his way bad
ended, ho was obliged to look the truth
plainly in the face, and TO admit tina, life
had offered new hope-a sweeter one,
perhsps. than ANY that had gone before.
The teic which had made such a talk, was
one OF the first results Of this conviction.
and yet il was only the beginning, as it
were. He Was so kind, SO thoughtful, so
thoughtful companion, that Maud un-
consciously glided into a more intimate
friendship with him than with any other
gen,lemaa. His very age, indeed. blinded
her 10 what he wished lie was a great
deal at The house; he met her at parties
everywhere, that summer and autumn !;
his carriage and horses were always al
her mothers disposiIions> Mrs. Milton,
on her part. was too shrewd, as yet, to
utter q word which could rouse any dis
quieting thoughts in the girls mind.
But carefully as he tried to guard looks
and language, some perception of the
truth did at length startle Maud, and she
set herself to work to find some means of
avoiding his society, and sparing him the
possibility OF pain. She managed 10 re-
fuse one or two invitations, where she
would meet him; to be occupied or indis.
posed, when be came 10 the house; but
there was not much time allowed for her
to struggle. No sign did Mrs. Milton
give that she perceived any alteration in
the gitrs manner during those three
days she was as sweet as ever, admitted
Maud's excuses; and Maud began to
hope that her mother had perceived
nothing, and that she should have no
difficulty in slipping out OF The painful
position in which shs found herself.
1t was the close of the third day. Mrs.
Milton had been driving ont, and Maud
had spent the afternoon quietly in her
room. writing letter TO Rupert-One Of
those secret letters. which were almost
as much pain as pleasure 10 write, because
OF the necessary deception to her mother
involved in them. The last page was
finished, aud now she sat dreaming Of the
future, which was TO make amends for
lhis present waiting and suspense. IL
wss not until the shadows of the early
twilight began TO fill the room, that ii
occurred to her 10 wonder that her mother
had not returned. She went down stairs
for some trihe that she had left in the
library; went into the darkened room,
singing softly an old song that Rupert
had loved. Suddenly, on a sofa, near the
fire, she recognized her mother and Mr
Stuart in earnest conversation. Her first
impulse was to get away unnoticed. A
sudden fear had struck her heart like a
blow from an icy hand. But Mrs. Milton
saw her, and called:
'Maidie. come here; don't go, child"
Mr.. Stuart said something quickly in
an undertone. Mrs. Milton replied
laughingly, and Maud, moving toward
them, in obedience to the summons,
caught the last words of the reply.