The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-07-06

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interested listeners to the narrative, grow
ing somewhat dignifed by the discussion
at the dinner-table.
You see how much foundation lies
beneath this apparently idle gossip. /
believe discretion is the better part of
valor on our part"
Louise, from under her long lashes,
shot whitening glance at the man who
loved her, but did not deign an answer.
She could not make out this man. She
believed that sometimes she half de-
spised him.
81 believe shall take the stage for
Ashdale," announced Redmond the next
afternoon, looking at his watch. "Have
little business there to which | wish to
attend"
Louise flashed quick glance from her
large dark eyes.
What! going to leave us to take care
of ourselyes?" said Blanche. eve
want you to help buoy us up when the
water rises"
90! I shall return tonight. I have
no idea of being absent from such an in
teresting adventure" he replied. "That
is, if / can positively see the gentleman
| am seeking just five minutes. Good
afternoon, ladies'" and he bowed him
self out of the room gracefully.
"Therel | am not surprised at this
action on the part of Redmond Clarke, :"
said Louise. He will not come back
here tonight. l say, as [ have said be-
fore, he is a coward"
Why, Louise, this move of his has
10 10 ~, = L.
we have just heard
81 believe it has" The secret desire
to think and believe high and lofty
things of his name, drove her to sudden
anger at any suspicion of the opposite.
:" Whoever knew one of these blue-eyed,
blonde -mustached men who had a spark
of true courage" and she looked any,
thing but feeble character herself as
she paced the floor rapidly, her ewes
flashing Indignantly with the intensity
of passion to which she had wrought
herself.
"Take care" said Blanche, warningly,
in low voice. You remember Hamil-
ton Belmont saved my life at the risk of
his own. He was none of your heroic
looking men,"
4" You will find that Redmond Clarke
is not second Hamilton Belmont. If |
could know for certainty that ne ran
away from any danger, threatened or
real, [ should never again allow him to
touch even my finger tips. | should
feel so Inundated that such man had
ever dared to ask for my love-"
" Don't judge too harshly-too hasti-
ly," said her friend, gently. You knew
that Redmond Clarke and Louise Rand
were fitted to make each other happy
could the latter have the mists of doubt
cleared from her wilful eyes.
Clarke had really intended to return
to the Cocassett House as he promised,
but the gentleman whom he sought was
absent, and the last stage left before his
return.
Ashdale was primitive, unambitious
town. Its only connection with the
great world was the regular stage. Its
hills and valleys had never yet echoed
with the shrill whistle of the locomo-
tive.
He paced backward and forward on
the piazza of the quiet little hotel where
he was to pass the night, under the
poetic skies of fine evening, thinking
of Louise Rand. Her naughty impe-
robustness had a charm for him. He
smiled to himself as he thought, "She
will thoroughly believe now what she
suspected when left her, that should
not return tonight He was prouder
than she. There was a depth beneath
that INDECENT exterior she had not sound
ed; and because she had doubted him
she whom he loved-he would not deign
to inconvenience himself to gain her APP
proval. A man with less inherent
haughtiness would have acted differ
emily.
He retired early and was soon in a deep
slumber. 1t did not prove refreshing.
A feverish, restless dream wreathed in
and out of his brain. He saw Louise
suspended ever a waste of waters cling
ing to something that threatened every
moment to snap with her weight, and
she be engulfed forever. Then the scene
shifted, and he saw as plainly as if it
were reality the building where he had
left her enveloped in flame, and amid the
cries of frantic men and women, Louise
in her white night robe at window
where the famee were rapidly closing
round her, reaching out to him with wild
shrieks for help. He woke with the
agony of the scene. Perspiration was
starting from every pore. He sprang
out of the bed and threw up window.
The night was sweet and fair as when he
retired, with the added glory of the full
moon, in the fuller light of which the
stars were paling their modest bright
ness. Over the landscape were flung
lengthening, sleeping shadows of tall
trees, shrubbery, and home-like cottages
in their Enclosure.
The scene Gained, sobered him, but
did not dissolve the hurried impression
of danger Was his dream a warning?
He tried to smile and put it away as the
offspring of diseased Imagination. But
the vivid horror of the scene stood be-
fore his vision with too much of reality,
and he turned to dress with quick, nerv-
Gus haste The moon shone directly into
his room and its light was all sufficient.
He was only four miles from Woodville.
He could walk that distance. He could
not rest with this horrible impression
upon him-something might be even
now happening. He let himself out
noiseless at the front door, and COM
menced a rapid walk. The church clock
tolled the hour-twelve. He would
reach there in less than an hour. What
if he should find his dream realized? He
was a good walker, and the distance be-
tween him and Woodville rapidly les
sened. As he drew near he began to feel
reaction-indeed, almost inclined to
turn back. He came suddenly upon the
village, lying serene and lovely under
the moonlight. The Cocassett House,
10 which his gaze was directed, loomed