The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1879-11-26
RENEE'S LOVE.
Renee Renee

from the open window of the cottage an,
Renee CORTLAND came out from tn
shadow of dropping trees, her broad ha
hanging loosely on her shoulder wher,
she had pushed it back from her face
while standing in the shadow Marga
ret Gray's voice had reused the girl from
dreams of Lester Sinclair, the handsom,
blue-eyed stranger visiting at the house
that nestled amid linden trees in the hol
low below, where the old-fashioned cot
tage of the Grays stood. She had beer
dreaming of his deep laughing eyes, hi.
sunny, chestnut curls, his gay, noncha
liant manner, that always changed t.
tenderness for her. Whatever was the
charm of Lester Sinclair's manner, he
had surely won the first love of Renee
Courtland's girlish heart. Years before
the father of Renee CORTLAND left heI
to the care of Margaret Gray-who had
been his girl-love in their early youth,
and who had never married, in memory
of that first love-dream. She scarcely
knew herself what had come between
them, only it had ended in bitter words
and still more bitter parting, and then,
in his passion, Charles CORTLAND had
married pretty, dark-eyed French girl
the mother Of Renee.
Years after, when his wife died, he had
come to his early love and asked her to
be his wife and a mother to his child.
But, with all her gentleness, Marga-
ret Gray was prouder than many haugh-
ty women, and she gravely answered
him-'tNo." Gently, almost sorrowful-
", vet still it was mo.
He made no second appeal, knowing
how useless it would be.
But when, three years later, death
called himself, he left his orphaned, pen
niless child to the care of Margaret
Gray.
The child had grown up to dark,
slender maiden, with great gray eyes
and childlike smile, to be the darling
of Margaret Gray's heart and the day
star of Victor Gray's life
Some distance down the road Victor
Gray stood leaning against a tree, his
face grave and thoughtful, even beyond
his wont.
He was not a handsome man, this
Victor Gray.
But there was something better than
beauty in his dark, proud face, for man.
hood was stamped on his broad brow.
Courage, honor and truth cleaned in
his eyes, and, though the general express
sion of his face was stern, his smile could
be gentle almost rs a woman's, and this
man loved pretty, childish Renee with
all the strength of his heart, and she
we'll, she loved Lester Sinclair.
He threw away his half-burned cigar
and turned towards the cottage, his face
still gravely stern.
Renee came to meet him.
ooh, Victor, can't go down to Ray
mond's this evening? Kathie is going
to have croquet match. Margaret
says no, but you-oh, Victor, may l not
go? You might come with me, Victor,
Kathie asked you"
He looked at the pretty, childish
face.
Eyes, will go, Renee" he said,
Two hours later Renee came down,
looking like wild rose in her pink
muslin robes, with clustering flowers in
her breast and hair.
They were rather early in the croquet
ground, so Kathie and Renee played
game by themselves.
Victor Gray watched Renee with pas
sionate, plying eyes, knowing the pain
in store for her, which he had been too
cowardly, he thought bitterly, to warn
her of.
II could not tell her," he said, 'and
yet [ wish | had"
He watched her wistfully, turning
pale as he saw how her eyes wandered
to the gate.
She had thrown her hat aside and
the soft breeze lifted the short, dark
curls off her brow and deepened the rose
tint on her cheeks.
He saw the red lips part in smiles
md the lovely dark eyes deepen, and
turning toward the gate he saw Lester
Sinclair coming up the pathway, a lady
leaning on his arm.
The one look at Renee's face told
Victor that she never suspected the
truth.
Her faith, like her love, was unwav-
ering. She believed in Lester Sinclair
rs she did in her own loyal love.
The lady on his arm was delicate
little thing, with a certain kind of
beauty, of the wax-doll order, with big
blue eyes, dainty features and cluster
ng faxen hair.
They came forward to where Renee
stood.
"Clare," he said, ''this is the young
ady told You of-Miss CORTLAND.
Renee-Miss CORTLAND, my betrothed
wife, Miss Duvane"
"His betrothed wife !"
The words rang in Renee's ears, then
seemed to die away in faint, moaning
sound
Remember she was only II, and child
sh for her age.
The bright young face grew paid as
leath, and the sweet light seemed to
fade from her eyes.
Victor strobe to her side.
''Take me home, Victor II don't
feel very well. Please take me-"
The words died away on her lips,
md the next moment Victor held her
white and senseless in his arms.
X X X X x x X
A magnificent room, large, lofty, and
furnished with almost Oriental SPLEEN
Tor, from the velvet carpet, into which
The foot sank noiselessly, the silken in
aid furniture, the wondrous gems of
art that adorned the walls, the rare
statues that filed every conceivable
nook, to the most minute article in the
room.
At one of the windows tall, slender
woman stood holding back with slen-
Ter, jeweled hand the foam-like draper
es-a woman 30 radiantly, rarely beau
'iful that even the casual passer-by half
caused with d look Of involuntary adj
niration on her face.
The low white bnoW, the great dark
yes, the curving crimson lips, and
Faving masses of blue-black hair, made
picture almost perfect In its love
mess.
And yet it was not . satisfied face
here was d look of past pain and
crescent longing, strangely mingled,
resting upon it Where the express
ion lar ron could hardly ten, only it /
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