The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1878-04-11

a |
ance that it is welcome. | must ac
knowledge that | am somewhat sur
prised at so open display, or so speed.
transfer of affection"
The tone was half laughing, hal
serious, and as in dream the girl sa
waiting the reply. 1t came too quickly
care you bereft of your senses, viii
or am / | should imagine both. YoI
know perfectly well that smiles iron
that quarter are too prolific to be choice
Pour passer le temps, and very shor
time at that, one perhaps can bear thei
dazzling light. Their brillian,y, how
ever, never will destroy nv reason
nor cause my common-sense to deser
me-"
"a wrong play, Miss Maude. Yol
trumped my trick" interrupted Mr.
Rochester, shaking his head across thu
table.
And Maude realizes that the speak,
ers, still unconscious of her presence
have passed out of the room, away from
the quiet window seat where they had
thought themselves mobserved, and
she is sitting with handful of painted
pictures, which she is supposed to dis
pose of with unerring skill.
Mechanically she places them upon
the table, unheeding her partners
glances of surprise, which she inter-
prets finally in the discovery that,
through her play, they have lost the
two odd tricks.
Two? Fatal blunder They little know
she has ju learned that the odd trick
which was to bring her her life's happi-
ness has been lost.
She rises from the table, stunned and
bewildered. The words she has heard
have struck her like so many blows,
each one sharp and incisive.
Has she, then, so worn her heart
upon her sleeve that not he alone but
others have seen it? Cruel dishonor-
able Had ne not taught her to believe
that her smile was the sunshine of his
life, her frown shadow to dim the
sunniest day?
"Don't look so sad, Miss Maude, in
terrupted Mr.. Rochester. "What can
we expect from the belle of the ball
room, when we carry her away from
its glitter and glare to the quiet retreat
Of a sober card-room, with her grand
father for partner' Come, am too
old to accept challenge, and | must
restore you to the place from which l
stole you, or certainly shall receive
one."
A laughing reply is on her lips, the
color flames in her cheek like Grim
son rose, her eyes grow almost black
with luminous light, and it is as her
companion had predicted.
The threshold of the ball room is
hardly crossed ere dozen eager aspi-
rants rush forward, to whom she smil-
ingly hands her card, which is re-
turned without one vacant space Oppo-
site the list of dances.
Then she sees him, flushed and smil-
ing, crossing the room toward her, and
reads in his face the triumphant assur-
ance that those moths may flutter as
they will around the candle, he knows
its light must shine for one alone, and
that one-oh, happy thought lis him.
"Truant," he says bending down to
speak into her ears, 81 have looked for
you everywhere. Is not the next waltz
ours ?"
81 really do not know whether your
name is down upon the list You may
look for YOURSELF" handing him the
card with an easy grace, a matchless
Indifference.
The color fiushes his brow as he re-
turns it.
81 thought promise given by word |
of mouth equal to written bond. Par
don my error and my assurance, Miss
Haywood"
Then he turned away, and her part
ners claimed her, and the band, in per-
feet tune and harmony, clashed their
instruments in unison, and the flowers
shed their perfume, and the lights
their brilliance, and no one dreamed
that girls heart was full to bursting
and she the fairest of them all, or that |
a few idle, careless words had raised a
barrier between two lives which never,
never might be broken.
$50 far, and no farther--so long, and
no longer. A flirt, heartless cOquette,
like all the rest of her SEX"
SO reasoned Writ Douglass, suddenly
Brown cynical, as the days merge into
weeks, and the wall, built by pride,
rose higher and higher between them.
Once he would have begged an ex-
planation, but she froze the words upon
his lips, and sent back the warm tor
rent to its fountain-head. There he
held II firmly, giving thereafter no
outward sign, though he sometimes
marveled if its inward force would not
destroy him.
1t was accident, not design, which
threw Writ Douglass in Miss Hey
woods path the ensuing summer. He
had not known she was at the hotel
where he had gone until he had been
met and welcomed by scores Of friends,
when it was too late to Immediately re-
trace his steps, although he determined
his stay should be short one.
lie had learned the fact, not of his
strength, but of his weakness, and
knew he dared not trust himself, for