The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1877-07-20
be the most wretched part Of 1t ALL"

ohA Al thut <AoutOu 10 lcuuilk ONtI tu
piano, looking into her magical eye
with an expression-well, which woul,
mean a good deal with some men, bu
which is merely a graceful courtesy
Margaret tries TO believe, with Arthu
Ashton. She has been at Llwyn-y
mawr q fortnight now, and has fount
Leah Fourier almost as constant an in
mate of the house as herself. But then
as Arthur said, the girls are mad abou
her, and there certainly is all enchant
ment somewhere in her glowing face
before which few are able to stand
Bien sur, tn n''oimerdis! she sings, ant
Margaret knows that the words woul(
sound cold and passionless from hel
own lips In comparison. Is it wonder
full that there should be response il
Arthur Ashton's eyes?
The song is ended, and Margaret Fen
wick's fance strolls after the singer into
the conservatory.
eff l were you, Margaret, / should
go after them, really" says Arthur't
eldest sister, half laughing. "Leaf
would flirt with the tootman, believe
if there were nobody else in the way
1t was just the same when poor brother
Cnarue was at nome"
Margaret tries to smile and to keer
her wistful eyes turned away from the
conservatory door, but she cannot heir
speculating little as to the difference
between, N'poor Charlie" and his brother
AS to Leah herself, she can hardly form
calm rational opinion, so different is
this Leah from the girl with the wild
eyes, whose poor uncertain fingers she
had helped TO find their old familiar
places on the piano at Horewood. five
years ago. She feels, rather than
knows, that the past is not all blank
in Miss Fourier's brain, but no word oi
recognition has passed between the girls
and il is plain at any rate, that nothing
of that dreadful episode of Leah's life i
suspected by the Ashtons. To Marga.
ret herself, as she looks upon the others
proud imperious beauty, it seems as il
her remembrance could be nothing
but a dream; and yet it is almost Q
pain to think that so much of her pity
in those by-gone days was wasted.
Ten minutes--a quarter of an houl
goes slowly by, and Leah saunters back
into the drawing-room, with spray Of
maidenhair in her hands and the pas.
sion of her song still half slumbering in
these deep mysterious eyes. "Nfr. Ash.
ton is going to be kind enough to sec
me home" she remarks generally fol
everybody's information, and Margaret
feels the same sudden chill that had
come to her the night before for the first
time, when her lover had undertaken
the same surely unnecessary duty. II
is almost relief to her to remember
that this is her last evening with the
Ashtons, and that the next day Arthur
is to take her back to London. Leah
Fourier may take all the footmen in
Wales into the conservatory with hel
then, if she chooses.
Nevertheless, the chill comes back tc
her heart more unmistakably than ever,
next night, for Leah Fourier and the
conservatory and Arthur Ashton are all
left behind. He found that he could
take another weeks holiday, he told
her, and she could not be selfish enough
to propose that he should spend two
days in travelling, merely for the sake
of taking her home. So their goodbye
was said at the little Welsh railway sta.
ton; but something fell out of his pock.
ct as he was taking her ticket, and she
could not help seeing that it was a BIZ
of maidenhair fern. 1t was pity that
it should be crushed under a strangers
foot before he could recover it-bu,
then, there was more in the conserva
tory.
Four, five days without q letter, du
ring which time the chill never leaves
her heart, and then there comes what
she has been looking for. He asks hei
if she is good enough, unselfish enough
to forgive him, and adds, of course, thai
he can never forgive himself. Marga
ret'knows now what answer he made tc
Leah's song, and wonders if there il
anything left for her in the world, or i
it is all made up of such questions ant
such replies. Then she remembers tha
her father had said that there were thir
ty thousand reasons why no one should
envy Leah Fourier.
Well, Leah is his, body and soul, rea
son and all, if he chooses to take her
and Margaret wonders whether the frs
will make up to him for all the others
Would he choose if he knew of the cor
ridor at Horewood, and had seen the
lips he loved cloying themselves will
sweetmeats that soft, compassionate
hands thrust by stealth within theil
reach? She puts away the thought from
her with shudder, calling upon Goo
not to tempt her to come between hin
and his happiness. If it can all be hid
den from him, it would be sin for her
of all women in the world, to say ,
word which might dash the cup from
his lips. She would drink her own cul
instead, and try to sweeten it by thu
thought that the man she loved wa
happy with the girl for whom she hat
once felt so divine pity.
The months go quickly enough by
now that Margaret no longer counts
how many there are between the seet
and blossom of her happiness, and sh'
knows that Arthur Ashton must hay,
brought his bride back with him by thi
time to his London home. Does sh,
sing ".Si tn suduais" to him now, Mar
garet wonders, or does each know tn,
intensity of the others love by hear
and find 1t sufficient? Margaret shud
ders as she remembers that there is still
a secret hidden from Arthur Ashton il
Leah's mysterious eyes-a secret whicl
she alone can read, and would give hal
her life to be able to forget. Would i
ever happen that he should come to he
and curse her for having hidden it from
him, to revenge herself?
That she is revenged, God knows how
unwillingly, Margaret sees the first tim,
she holds Arthur Ashton's hand In her
again. He has written 10 ask her If b.
may come to her and satisfy himself O
her forgiveness; and her love Is deat
enough in her heart for her TO be able I,
tell him "yes." She has even ceased /,
wonder at the dreariness Of her owl
life, and is vaguely conscious, as he take
her hand, Of the same great pity 70
him and the woman who had supplant
ed her, that filled her heart as she wen
down the staircase at Horewood, leay
Ing the cold corridor and the locke,
door behind her.
"You have found out how little l wa
worth your regretT he says, forcing a
uneasy laugh, as he sees that the oil
culver he remembers in her lips Is ther
no longer.
"No, not that" answers Margaret
l.. .