The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1877-10-04

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who was false to her.
Without one word she rose and turned
to go, but Bella caught her by the arm
and held her.
"Wait, please; how strange you are
Why do you look so wild at me? You
won't betray us; promise ME that you
will not bctray US"
Dora drew proudly back. II never
betray. You have my word. | never
broke it yet! IL am sorry came"
"Why did you come? This is so un.
frequented pathway"
A cry, in spite of herself broke from
the poor girls lips. There are moments
in life when anguish is stronger than we
are, when reticence is overborne in his
whirling torrent.
ooh, Heaven, help me to bear this
pain !' she sobbed; and down she fell in
heap on the grass, and bowed her fair
golden head, and rocked herself back and
forth, with wild hysterical sobs, in spite
of those cruel unreleuting eyes above
her.
"What do you mean by this emotion ?"
asked Bella, sternly. "What is the mat
ter? Is it possible--but no, it cannot be-.
Yet he has more than once hinted of a
something that might come between him
and me-some irksome, half-passing
amusement that clung to him like an in
cumbus, though he was doing bis best to
shake it off. Is it you. Can it be you,
you ridiculous gir?"
Dora rose up, her face white as death,
and lifted q warning hand.
"Stop, Miss Lawrence. Twill not hear
another word. ] do not stand between
you and your false lover; yes, he IS false,
in spite of what he says to you, false and
cowardly. You need not fear him. l
will never come between him and you.
I have no money to keep him, and he is
free from all he has said to me. 1 will
never speak to him again never. You
can tell him so from ME. Never again" !"
With the last words Dora turned away,
passed into the grounds, and ran swiftly
home. But not very long had Miss Law
renee reached her fathers house, before
Dora was sh wn into her room. Pale,
wild-eyed, a shawl wrapped about her,
Dora put down letter. A hasty,
blotted, nicely -written-letter in that pas
sionate hour-oh, how cruelty, and like
", after it was received, to put all the
wide world between her and her lover.
For when girls are strung into madness,
they do all kinds of incomprehensible
things, never sparing those who have in
jured them.
,"Itis my renouncementp' Dora painted.
II thought l would bring it to you, and
you would send it to him as you know
where he is gone. Bid him never answer
it. Let him never in honor speak to me
again-never look at me. Fare you
we'll Miss Lawrence. wish you both
WELL"
Mr.. Richard Lawrence did not do his
work by halves. In spite of Mr.. Law
rence's gout and his confinement to the
counting house, he found time to run
down to Liverpool and talk over some
arrangements with Dean Hastings. And
the very next day Marlborough heard
that Mr.. Hastings had sailed for the
West Indies. Some complications had
arisen out there, and Mr.. Hastings was
gone to set them to rights.
Meanwhile, Miss Lawrence paid a
friendly visit to Mrs. Galloway, during
which she impaired a few hints of that
designing Dorothy Stevens wickedness,
in wanting to come between her and a
gentleman to whom she was privately
engaged. Mrs. Galloway lifted her hands
and eyes, and readily promised that if
any letters came for Miss Stevens (unless
in the handwriting Of her infatuated son,
of whom she did not feel assured yeti
they should be sent intact to the heiress.
And Dora, finding herself looked upon
with suspicion at Mrs. Calloway's, treated
coldly, yearning to get away from Rich.
borough, the scene of her misery, be-
sought that lady to get her situation at
distance. Mrs. Galloway seized upon
the idea, and lost no time in doing it ;
but she made stipulation with the girl
that she should not disclose to Richbor-
ough where her new home was.
"Indeed l will not" acquiesced the
poor girl, all too readily. 81 shall never
care to see Richboroug again, or to hear
OF. it."
Dean Hastings was plowing his way
on the ocean and of the two women left
behind it would be difficult to say which
of their lives was the most desolate, want
ing him for when Dorothy's angry pas
sion was over, the first sharp sting of his
falsehood and his desertion past, then
her tenderness returned. Night by night
,she-bent in prayer for him at her bed
side: "Lord, watch over him and pro-
tect him ! Help him, and keep him from
all harm"
MI. Hastings landed in safety. The
first packet Of letters he received from
home contained that angry one of re-
nouncement, written by Dora. Not that
it betrayed anger, only calm, studied
coldness. Opening mechanically the let
ter that lay next to it, he found it in the
handwriting of J1iss Lawrence. This
letter chiefly contained items of news,
written in a playful style; one of them
ran as follows: "Will you be surprised
to hear that Mrs. Galloway has at length
given in to the persistency of the young
people? Report says they are about to
be married shortly. Do not break your
heart; Dorothy Stevens is not worth it.
It is very wrong of her to be SO much
given to hirting-worse than am; and
that, perhaps you will say, need not be-"
The time went on; two years of it.
Dean Hastings had left soon the employ
of Mr.. Lawrence and entered that of an
other house in the West Indies, con-
nected with Richborough. News was
heard of him but rarely; but at the end
of the two years tidings came. Bad
tidings, worse than had ever come before.
He had died of yellow fever.
Close upon that, Anabella Lawrence
gave her hand to her cousin. Her ill
starred passion, already nearly dead, dead
of its very hopelessness, was now thrust
away from her heart forever. She en-
tered upon her reign, as queen of society,
heartless, callous, self-indulgent-but so
she always had been.
But what of Dora Stevens? She was
more isolated in her new home than she