Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1879-10-24
fContinued from First Page. }

tContnued rom First rage
strong within him? 1t may be that he is
coming to gain forgiveness,
''Oh. no. no!n shrinking; Il hope not.
That would be terrible / hope not I.
But with an effort, ''t is impossible. y"
II think il is so utterly possible that /
an almost sure of it," says Dugdale, who
t,kes savage pleasure in piling up his
own agony. "No man, under the circum-
Stances. would elect to come to
the place again unless with such an OBJ
iect."
You brighten me-" she SAYS; and then
she signs and brushes back her soft hair
from her temples. would you act so in
such case?' she asks, presently. in n
slow, dreamy tone.
Then he turns to look ut her and their
eyes meet. The tender silence of coming
night is all around The faint, melodious
lowing of the oxen in the far-off meadow
alone breaks the stiffness of the evening
that is dying with such lingering sweet
ness.
Il cannot answer that question:" re-
turns he unsteadily; 81 could not picture
myself in such case. Had | dared to
love YOU, it would have been with such u
love as would have lasted to my dying
day"
Silence again. She has grown very
pale. and the hand that trifles with the
huge bunch of crimson roses so lately
plucked, is trembling slightly. The cows
are coming slowly toward them through
the cool deep grass; the birds, high over
their heads are twittering drowsily II last
goodnight; Georges voice from the YER
anda calls to them to return.
''You are thinking of the past!' says
Dugdale, hurriedly, taking one of the
roses from her.
''Yes-and of the future" she replies
in troubled tone.
'.Clarissa you still love him ?"
sHow shall tell.'' returns she with a
touch of passion. II have so long brood
ed over my unhappy story--so often told
myself | shall never again" She paus-
es abruptly. 81 want to see him. she
says, after slight hesitation
mo, you mistake. want to see him"
slowly. "because, when ] do-on the in
stant-I shall know
know what ?i
"My own heart, replies she somewhat
sadly.
Three days later. walking along the
quiet road that leads to Weston, Give
Dugdale comes upon Clarissa and stran-
ger, evidently in earnest conversation.
Even from the distance he can see the
stranger is Sir Wilfred Haughton. and
that he and Clarissa are on friendly terms.
1t is plainly, however. chance encounter
because Haughton's horse is standing be-
side him, and even rs Dugdale, with
beating heart, marks all these facts, they
shake hands, and IIaughton mounting
again, rides briskly away
As Dugdalc comes up with her Claris-
sa turns gladly, to greet him with bright
smile. Her face is delicately flushed;
there is an unwonted brilliancy in her
eyes; she is altogether changed and
even lovelier Clarissa than usual.
''That was Sir Wilfred ?" remarks he,
superfluously, regarding her curiously-
jealousy,
YES" still smiling
"Your very first first meeting with him
has wrought wonderful change in your
appearance. You are pleased?"
ut was not our first meeting. Last eve
ming he called to see us Just after you had
left. Had you remained to dinner, as
George and wished, you would have met
him."
''Should IP Thanks. The loss is not
irreparable. would rather see George
and you when alone. But you have not
yet answered me; though, indeed,
scarcely need an answer when look at
you. You are brighter, more radiant,
than have ever yet seen you. You were
pleased to see him!"
i'Very!" emphatically. why notp
After all, as l told you, heis an old friend;
hardly remember the time l did not know
him."
''And," bending a little to look into her
eyes, which met his frankly, "you now
'knovp'"
''Yes-now l know returns she,
with quiet, though very intense salts
faction.
''And you are quite happy ' There is
a shade upon his face that grows deeper
every second. She, having averted her
eyes, fails to see it.
Very happy" she answers quietly.
Happier than have been for three full
years. A long time, is il not ?'' she asks,
a little wistfully.
Eyes, congratulate you,' i'm some-
what forced tone. They have reached the
entrance to Weston; and he now puts out
his hand to say goodbye.
"You will come in Pr surprised.
''Not to-day, thank you
'Oh, do" with open disappointment;
George will be so grieved if you do
not'
George must excuse me to-day; !
cannot go in now,' he says almost curtly.
andt raising his hat, walks determinedly
away.
His heart is filled to overlooking with
bitterness and sad forebodings. Is it. in
deed, all over9 Can his sweet dreams
and happy thoughts have met with such
cruel death ? Again he sees her lovely
face as she turned to greet him, flushed
with content and gladness. OF course the
blush had been for IIaughton; already
her poor wounded heart has found com
fort in the very nearness of the beloved
Pshaw why dwell upon the incvita-
bic like love-sIck girl lie will throw
up the whole business. leave for London
in the morning, and try in absence to for
get.