The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-03-19


of a few dim lamps among the masse
of blossoms and dark green leaves. Sh
had lost the flower from her hair-one O
her favorite camellias-as she said
"with darling bud," and Fitzallal
had promised, with Ponsonby-Jones
permission, to get her another with
darling bud too. She had placed hi
gift in her hair, and she sat near tn
dewy glass, saying it was cool there AM
she would rest. Fitzallan stood at
little distance, penknife in hand still
swinging carelessly the fan-like leaf o
dwarf palm.
"If this were nearer could fan you,
he said.
"Thank you; am tired rather thai
hot"
Never in her life before had Madg
been 30 serious or SO troubled as sh'
was now, in the soft light among th'
cool plants, within sound of the half
hushed music.
evil you do me favor ?" she in
quired, raising the gray eyes that shon'
for moment with liquid brightness.
"You have only to name it am a
your service"
His manner, unromantic to studied
degree, made her feel all the more safe
in taking heart to speak, while she gave
him at the same time, in generous meas
ure that most precious offering to which
every noble-hearted man entities him
ealf q nornop'c rarpant
81 have seemed very happy tonight,
Mr.. Fitzallan," she began in very
quiet, low tone, the torn leaf trembling
in her hand and the color dying out oi
her face, "but I am in great trouble.
"Indeed I am sorry to hear it. u
He drew little nearer, listening atten'
lively and helping her now and again
by word of encouragement.
Her story was simple one. She was
to be married next month to her cousin,
Mr.. Hawkesbury. She had dreaded il
all her life, but it was her fate. And
then, taking courage from the respect.
full and almost paternal demeanor o'
her listener, she made the frank con.
fession that she disliked her cousin just
because she was forced to marry him
and to this she added such child-like
entreaty not to thought /" too bad" that
it must have required more than ordi-
nary self-control for Fitzallan not to
say something that would have allowed
the scene to become tender one; but
this he seemed determined 10 avoid, and
so in her simple wav was the sadly-per-
picked girl that wes pouring out her
hearts trouble to him.
CIVIL you speak for mo to Mr.. Sell
wyn," she said, "ss you are an old
friend of his? I cannot reason as men
do, but want you to try if there is any
way of release for ne. Pray forgive
me, if l am wrong in asking your inter
ference, but am very wretched here
came burst of tears that must have
tried the listener sorely-" "and I my
self have 80 often spoken to Mr.. Selwyn,
and it is of no use. BE always says my
fathers will must be carried out; and
oh, how wish could do it.'
"It must be done, if possible" Fitz'
allan said. "But it would not be your
fathers will to mar the happiness oi
your life or to put you in bondage"
"Oh! if Mr.. Selwyn would only
speak like that" said the girl sadly.
We'll. I shall have talk with him, u
said Fitzallan, "and do my best for
yo.lr happiness, though I would be sorry
to iniure Hawkesbury's prospects,. Let
us 20 back now; there is new piece
beginning. That is one of Rubinstein's,
is it not? I need not say you have done
me favor in granting me your conf
dence"
With that he drew aside the heavy
curtains, and they returned to the daz,
zling light and bewildering music and
movement Of the ballroom.
After that night Madge waited in anx
iety to hear the result of Fitzallan's
parley with her guardian. Three days
passed and note came from him, only
few words, saying that he had sue
ceeded at least 80 far as to win promise
that the matter shoald be considered
But Madge saw little good coming o
Mr.. Selwyn's considering" what
seemed to be decided irrevocably long
ago.
At last it was the eve of her birthday
tomorrow would be the dreaded day
and that very morning Mr.. Selwyn haC
said to her gravely, but tenderly:
"My child, it has been the work o.
many years for me to see to the fulfill
ment Of your fathers last wish. He We!
my best and dearest friend, and his life
was sad one. At least his dying vii
must be done. But promise you hap
piness-I do, indeed"
But beyond that day Madge was un-
able to bear her hearts burden. 81
must tell him everything" she thought
In the afternoon twilight, some time
after Mr. Selwyn had returned home
she found him asleep in his arm -chai'
in the dark dining room. But little
daylight came in between the red cur
tains, and it was only the glow of thu
fire that showed her his white hair ant
long beard. She knelt beside him, Al
she often did for talk when he was II
that chair, and she woke him up b,
stealing her hand into his.
Wuo 10 lG-CeEIyf No, "o"So
my little Madge that is to be so patri
archal tomorrow"
"Pspa Selwyn," she began, not civ.
ing him time to joke any more lest sh
might not be able to disclose all he
troubles, 81 want to tell you some.
thing, and you won't be angry, will you
no matter what it is?''
He took her face between his hands
and the fire flashed up and showed hin
how earnest it was.
81 am quite sure" he said, "nothini
can make meanything but as deeply j,
love with my second daughter as 9 poo
old fellow like me can be. Why, ohild