Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1876-09-13
He rang the bell

Cecile was waiting to receive him, he
took her hand In his and murmured one
Of those greetings of which the words
are the merest nothing, before he was
quite aware that Madeleine was in ex-
istence- When Cecile said, in her timid,
pretty fashion, ''My sister Madeleine,
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 lighted with an expression
very foreign to them, and sank as sud-
denly and heavily as if their lashes had
been lead; faint shiver ran through
her shoulders, as though q cold wind
had blown on her; she looked almost
like one who struggles to repress a
sudden terror. 1t was a minute, per-
haps, during which neither responded
to the introduction, and then Philip
Abinger stepped forward and took her
hand, muttering some commonplace
words. Neither of them understood
the phrases, nor cared to, and he turned
away with q strange air of troubled
constraint. Poor Cecile's face discov-
cred her disappointment. 1t was 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 fos each
other she had builded so many cloud
castles that must now fall, like the rest
of them,
But before long Philips saroir- fdire
and Cecile's pretty attempts to entet-
tain him warmed the first frosty air
into one of pleasant freedom. Made
leine joined in the talk after a while,
which soon became animated enough,
yet with still an indescribable shadow
in the midst of all the cduserie.
When he had gone away, Cecile
curled herself on the floor at her sis
ter's feet, with her warm, bright hair
shining down her shoulders.
''He is not, is he, quite what you
fancied ne would be, Madeleine dear?"
half whispering the tender words.
"What 1 fanciedg" said Madeleine,
with odd impatience. "But what has
lhat to do with it? He is not my fairy
prince, Cecile." But she added, with
quick change of expression that COW
cred the former one, 'Still he will do
very well for one, considering the days
he lives in. i like him-yes, Cecile."
"But you are disappointed, Made
leine?" said Cecile, raising her eyes
doubfully.
"Am I?'' Madeleine held her head
on one side in characteristic fashion,
looking fixedly at the Goals dying in
the CRATE. "No, Cecile, do not think
1 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 un-
noticed down her cheeks while her
sister was speaking. She made no an
swer, for her voice was untrustwOrthy.
Madeleine rose and went to the dress
ing 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 be-
meath the contracted brows. What her
thoughts were it would be hard to guess,
but they surely were not pleasant. A
long-represseds sigh, stified painfully on
the lips, caught her ear presently, and
with a sudden horror of herself she
turned from the glass and walked i'm
pulsively to her sister. She leaned over
her, with both hands on her shoulders,
hating herself for the shiver of repul-
sion that accompanied the act, and
kissed her tenderly twice on the fore
head.
Philip Abinger wondered at himself
no more as he walked down in front of
the block of clearinghouse. 1t was
the path that his feet were most accus-
toned to tread nowadays, and he seldom
came thither without some rare token
from the upper world, some fruit or
flower which had hitherto been but a
name to these dwellers in the barren
shadows of poverty.
Yet Cecile was not quite happy.
There was no open enmity between
Philip and Madeleine, but far less the
quiet agreement and affection she had
once hoped for. There was an avoid
ance, a restlessness, In their eyes, and
otter an unaccountable bitterness 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 antipathy.
A less-trusting heart than that Of
Cecile might have suspected there was
another reason than that of dislike to-
ward Philip to account for Madeleine's
unouiet manner and evident unhappi-
4
ness when her sisters lover was near; !;
but to Cecile the explanation came with
the force of calamity whose approach
could never have been imagined.
One lovely afternoon in spring, when
the earth was fragrant with the breath
of the budding flowers, the illness of a
pupil gave the little teacher an unex-
pected holiday, and fully two hours
earlier than usual she turned her steps
toward the old clearinghouse. AS she
turned the corner nearest home, she
saw Madeleine and Philip walking
slowly down on the other side Of the
street. Philips head was bent down,
perhaps no closer than the need OF talk
required in the midst of the roar of the
city streets. Madeleine's face was
turned aside and dropping. There was
surely nothing strange in it that she
clung closely to Philips arm in crowd