The daily gazette., 1877-03-28
80 get me some, please!v she cried.

"Titina, my head aches, the sun is too
hot! want to lie down under the trees
here, and have you come and fan me
with branch.v -a
"First, my lilies.''
] ."Cruel Titina, tell you that am i'll. y
| "Cut me pole, then, and 1 will get
them for myself"
| He cut pole, whistling meditativeIy
over his work. She stood by, Impatient
ly.
"Isn't it ready now?"
| eyes. Away with youn'
He lay down under the trees, his arm
under his head, his large black eyes
watching the girls small, little figure
as she reached for the lilies and drew
them ashore. There was great per-
fumed pile Of them lying on the grass,
before she was satisfied, and came to
him, KIN selling down beside him.
II don't care for your lilies,'' he
said, pushing them slightingly away
In mock offense. "You are not kind
to me-"
"Yeu are not kind to me; you would
not get them for me-" she answer
ed.
"But I'm Ill, and I,love you, So you
ought to forgive me. But you are
always cruel to me-"
| Am IL" Wistfully.
"Yes. Kiss me now"
She bent over him, half-laughing,
blushing, her white lids falling sw
ly.
He did not give her back her pure
kiss, though he kissed her. She shrank
back-white with q deathly shame
and then rose up, disengagine her
dress from his hand. when he would
have detained her.
Don't! am going home"
wait, do not want to 60 yet"
She did not answer, but turned away
and went across the brook, leaving her
lilies strewn over him. Out Of his
sight, hidden in the willow copse, she
stopped; little sharp cry broke from
her lips-the death cry of her outraged
love. She was sick and giddy--her
brow burnipg-her soul struck down
from happy nights, to shuldder faip-
ting within her. Her love, pure as the
lily at her belt, had blossomed in mire
that could give it only foul odors.
She was . strange little thing, with
her wild, woodland instincts. She
wandered about the fields, looking
wistfully at the grasses and flowers
and at the June sky overhead, and
wondering If there was any treachery
in them. Sho plucked wild rose and
bee hidden in it stung her. She
flung it down with a bitter cry.
Through pine groves of thick under
growth the road wound. In one of
the groves the girl stopped and crouch
ed down among the underbrush, for
carriage was coming down the road,
and her face was wet with crying.
When the carriage was nearly OPP
posite her, the horses were refined in,
and the driver called suddenly:
"Hillo!"
Persls thought she must be seen by
him, but she did not move. She was
undeceived, the next moment, how.
ever. Vincent Lord appeared, max
ing his way through the undergowth
of pines, and paused quite close to
Persis, without seeing her, in his ca
gernees. He leapt the stone wall, and
spraug 10 the carriage, gras ping the
hand of the man inside.
"Downing, how are your"
"Hearty. Haveyou got tired, lying
low?"
eyes, mighty tired
"Well the coast is clear"
"How?" .1I..
"The child is dead, and I've bribed
the girl to go back to Ireland. 30
there's the last of your Killarney
beauty, Vim. But If you get into sach
o seraFs again. I'lllsee you sent up
hAf
myself to clear you"
"Hurrah! But are you sure that
Miss Dane hasn't heard Whisper"
"Sure as guns. She's at the St.
Nicholas with her father. saw her
yesterday The little beauty hoped
that Mr.. Lord would not take his mo-
theirs death hard. l told her that |
had heard you were very much over.
come. The little thing looked as grave
as a sexton. Put on plenty of Grape
and an air Of affiiction, my boy, and |
ceme home with me; little sadness
will become yonr style of beauty. II
tell you the heiress is safe enough.
She hasn't looked at man since you
have been gone"
"Well, DIVE on to the second cross
ing. L shall nave to 60 up to the
house and tell them some stuff about
a telegraphic dispatch from New York. |
I'll join you in a minute"
The carriage drove on. Vincent |
Lord went up to the house, In about
fifteen minutes he appeared on horse
back, and galloped up the road after
the carriage. Persis Allen never saw
him again. ....
Years afterward she may have mar
ried wisely and happily, but to her
husband she never gave the sweet,
trusting, innocent heart which Vim
cent Lord had found and despised.
"The wild swan had deserted.
And rat had gnawed the reeds.'