The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1877-03-29
"Contide your burden to me. Can 1


do nothing to help you to bear it ?"
Nothing" dryly answered the girl.
am not deceived, Odette you dc
not love me l'scried CASTOR, bitterly.
"Well, then, do not think l do love
you," she said, yielding to an impulse
of sincerity. II have been struggling
many days against this truth--for a time
| would not acknowledge it to myself.
Now you have wrung it from me, and it
pains me to cause your heart this wound.
But what can do? Forgive me Oh,
forgive me, Gaston-I deceived myself
me, will you not ?"
Gaston was very pale, but his eyes
glowed fiercely. Moving slowly, slowly
away from her side, he said, in low
voice 4: 81 know, Miss Falkland, to
whom to attribute this quick change in
your feelings for me. forgive you all,
and pity you much. Goodbye
Goodbye y In an instant he was gone.
Two days later he sailed in steamer
for Liverpool, to overtake the exploring
party, which had left the week before.
Jaded and wishing for change, Odette
from Saratoga went to Newport, Count
Bradsky, of course, following her, eager
| ~ pressing his suit.
My dear count" said Odette. as
they strolled in the moonlight, "if your
love is like those stars which shine for
a little and quietly disappear at morn
ing, persevere with it-it may at least
amuse us both but if it threatens to
become more lasting feeling, you had
better start for Washington tomorrow. ("
Are my addresses Objectionable ?"
To-night-no but cannot answer
| for them tomorrow.
" My way is to trust much to the NOR
row, and l cannot change my way. Ii
the morrow resembles this evening
good if it do not-better still"
Odette turned in astonishment.
My language sounds strange to YOU.
can explain that. In Hungary a man
IN love is somewhat of fool. Let me
indulge my folly"
BY all means; on condition that YOU
grant me the privilege to laugh at it,
said Odette, and suiting the action to the
word, she uttered low laugh that fell
on the counts ear unpleasantly.
1t cannot be, Miss Falkland, that
nature has endowed you with all her
gifts but one-a heart. will not be-
lleve it. A heart You must have, and one
worth winning 1 can wait. L have
been IN the very path of death dozen
times, and yet [ have always escaped
him. Am challenged to new battle
L accept the challenge, and to win the
guerdon I risk defeat'
The air was growing chill SO they went
indoors together. Odette sat down to
the piano and begun to play Hungarian
march.
"Why, that is the March of Ra-
koczy,'" said the count. in patriotic
rapture. "How kind of you to play it
1t is the war song of my country. made
moiselle p
Odette then played a sweet old air.
"The Monastery Bells"
'If some day you should be ready to
accept my love, fair lady, play that lit
tie alr and shall understand you."
Very well--but suppose-such a
thing might happen, You know-that
some day | had the fancy to see you no
more. What am l to play then %
The count bit his lip, and after little
hesitation, said: "Then play the terri
BILE March of Rakozy.'"
i
Summer was followed by autumn, and
Odette returned to New York to attend
Miss Gardner's wedding as one of her
bridesmaids. After the happy event had
been duly celebrated, Odette devoted
herself more than ever before to a life of
excitement and pleasure. Winter with
its receptions and balls afforded her
many distractions from the introspec-
ton that was painful to her; vet she was
leading far from happy life. Count
Bradsky divided his time between
Washington and New York. but WAS
obliged to be satisfied with answers such
as this: 81 like you very much-more
than any friend that is left to me; but
that is all T.
Mr.. Melville Brooks, whom Odette
had not seen since the day he had given
her that /" bit of advice" met her in
Broadway, and they walked up together.
In the course of their conversation
Odette asked him timidly if he had heard
of Mr.. Sandford since his departure.
"Do you still remember him,
Odette? All, poor CASTOR he could
not stand the hardships of a journey
across the desert, and is now lying sick |
in Kinyanguk, Zanzibar, with but little |
hope of recovery. In the last letter I |
had from him, he asked for you."
Odette inquired no further, and after
parting with Mr.. Brooks went quickly |
home. The maid who opened the door |
to her, noticed that her mistress's ewes
were red with weeping. A letter had |
come for Miss Falkland, bearing the |
postmark. Odette took it |
and after long interval
opened and read it. "My dear Miss
it ran, "rumors of approach |
ing war between Prussia and my coun-
try have reached the embassy. The idea
of leaving you makes a coward of me,
and as 1 may have my choice in the mat
ter, almost think of remaining. Nav I |
hope that this proof of love-the great
est, no doubt, man can give-will be |
rewarded at last by the performance of |
The Monastery Bells?' 1 will do N.Y.
self the honor to wait on you tomorrow |
evening. Yours ever,
"SANDoR BRApsKY."
Tomorrow evening"" mused Odette;
''why, that is tonight" She rang the |
bell, and gave the servant who answered |
it this instruction.: 81 am not at home |
to anybody this evening except Count
Then she retired to her own |
room, and when she appeared some hours
later, traces of tears were still to be seen
On her face. Late in the evening the
count arrived. Odette sat down to the
piano as rigid as a statue. At last the |
visitor was announced. Odette did not |
turn her head, but struck the keyboard |
4