The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1877-07-26

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jug from the dresser, went to the
cellar 10 draw some beer for her broth
er.
1t was a relief to her to perform this
menial service; it seemed almost an
answer to the question she had been
asking herself over and over again,
since her conversation withMr.ScrOpe
in the morning. she was even glad
that all around her looked SO common
place, SO poor-poorer and cOmmoner
than ever tonight. And bitter feel
ing rose in her heart and made her al
most indignant that some people should
be SO much more favored than others.
| When she went to her own room,
instead of undressing she opened the
window and gazed ou, towards the
yew-tree under which she had parted
with Mr.. Scrope, and then suddenly
untwisting her long hair she turned to
the lookinggiass not with any feeling
of vanity, but in order to find what
had so attracted him.
1t was more than handsome face
that answered back her gaze, one
| which showed all amount of earnest
ness and intellig gence not often met
with. OF this she was no judge her.
self, neither of the continual change of
expression which Mr.. Scrope had be-
gun by curiously observing, and end
ed by being thoroughly interested in.
He was passing the Long Vacation at
Sheiford, reading and fishing, and had
made the acquaintance o: VIM. Jeryis
on the banks of the river, and through
him, whom it was a condescension on
the part OF Mr.. Scrope to notice, OF
Alice herself
Alice perhaps understood the foot
ing Oil which they stood better than
her brother, and the innate pride in
her nature caused her TO accept it with
reservations. She felt the gulf be-
tween them, and measured it by the
worlds standard. Therefore, when
Mr.. Scrope made his somewhat start
ling offer she, in spite of her surprise,
was not unprepared with her answer.
And now that she had given it, she
asked herself if she had not done right.
Mr.. Scrope was an only son; a bril-
liant future was before him; world
Of which she knew nothing was famil-
lar to him. Could she, who was ac-
customed to the littlenesses incident
to circumstances somewhat above ac-
tual poverty, move with propriety in
circles accustomed to every luxury
Would his relatives SO far above hers
accept her and her belongings? She
answered, Mo- Mr.. Sc-ope had ar
gued, what matter since it rested with
him to give her place and position III
the world as his wife? But that she
knew would be separation for him
from all former associations, and her
own unfitness to move in her lovers
sphere would make her clog upon
the life of him to whom, before she
knew it, she had given her heart.
Such had been the train of argument
she had pursued, and she had struggl-
ed free from the prospect open to her,
not without pain, and had dismissed
it as dream of beauty that had nought
to do with waking hours. And now
But it was over. The morning rose,
and she went about her tasks as usual,
perhaps even more encrgetically, since
she needed an outlet for her pent-up
feelings. Mingled with pain there
came a sense of happiness in the know
ledge of Mr.. Scrope's love, To have
possessed it-nay, perhaps to possess
it stiil-carried her into another world,
in which, however, she must always
be alone, since all that had passed |
must forever remain her own especial |
secret.
CHAPTER II.
Mr.. Scrope went abroad, and alter
a time he returned home to begin his
career.
Alice Jervis pursued her hCmely |
and monotonous life. She grew quiet
er and graver, and worked more dill
gently. She believed that she had de- |
cided rightly as regarded Mr.. Scrope's
happiness, and the sacrifice that she |
had made for his sake made her feel |
that she had right to be interested in
him, and she lived in the excitement |
of seeing his name in the papers and |
in gaining every particular of him
!,
she read his name in the presentations
at court, or noted his presence at the |
court balls. AT such times she looked |
down at the shabby dress and poor |
surrounding her, and |
W ondered what sort of an appearance
she would have made in other circum- |
stances.
AT length she saw another announce
ment. Mr.. Scrope was going to be !
married.
Sac turned pale, and pat down the
paper.
And yet she had expected this an
nOuncement-.had looked for il day
after day. Nevertheless she felt a |
strange pang, which as long as he was
unmarried she had escaped.
Down by the river, where the wa
ter-hags hoisted their yellow standards
among the reeds, and where the for
get-mc hots blossomed along the banks
she sauntered, listening to the mur-
muring waters. whose burden was
sPast, past, past! Even Rover ap-
peared to understand it, for he look ed
up mOurnfully into her face and whin-
ed.
Then great gray bars of cloud
spread across the setting sun, ,and blot,
ted out the sunlight: but still A lice