The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1879-11-27
Off With the Old Love.

A fair, slender girl, with the COLDER
hair blown away from her blue-yeined
forehead, and a soft, violet light shin
ing in her eyes, as she stood there, ,
living picture, framed in b,
creeping vines and swinging SPRAYS O,
clematis-that was the last glimpse
that Henry Dalmayne caught of Lilias
Raymond on the summer evening wher
he went away to seek his fortune.
He has found it already in a certain
sense-in so far as many find treasure.
trove in the rich abundance of a wo.
mans love, for Lilias loved him, and
Lilias' heart was a gold mine in itself.
She turned and went back into the
house, with the ~glistening dew of tears
upon her and a mournful CULVER on her
lip.
"How silly I ami" she murmured to
herself. SIT will be but for a wear OF
two at the furthest and he has much
more to endure and battle with than
IL
And Lillas repined at the fate assign
ed to her in the great play-b bill of the
world. 1t was hard to realize the truth
of the blind poets words, that ethey
also serve who only stand and watt
If she could have worked to earn
money and help him; if she might also
lave been privileged to bear a weapon
in the strife. Alasl it is so bard to sit
still and count the seconds which must
elapse ere the crisis of our fate dawns
upon the leaden horizon of life.
So Henry Dalmayne went to the big
city. apd Lilias stayed behind, to bear
the separation as best she might.
\
Engaged, eh?" growled old Mr..
Peckham, Henry's maternal uncle,
whose skin had turned yellow with the
reflection of much gold, and whose heart
was harder than the marble of which
his mansion was built. Nephew, you
are a fool. Engaged at two and twenty!''
"But, Uncle Ralph, she is the sweet
est girl you ever saw!'
'Sw eetest girl! Sweetest fiddlestick!''
roared out the irate old gentleman.
"There, there, don't talk sentiment to
me. I've no patience with it.n
Henry was silent. The glitter of the
frescoed ceilings-the fash of silver and
cut glass-the exquisite aroma of the
rare red wine, and the velvet flush of
~hot-house peaches, became distasteful
to him all at once. Uncle Peckham
had promised to make his fortune for
him-but Henry was not at all sure that
he wanted his fortune much, on these
terms. One glance. one smile from
Lilias-were they not worth all these
hollow pageantries?
There, " said Uncle Ralph, tossing
a card across the table, 81 got you an
invitation to Mrs. Bruce's party to-
night. You'll meet some people there
that are worth the knowing!"
Henry Dalmayne hesitated; it was the
evening he had set aside in each week
for writing to Lilias. She would miss
her letter-but after all, it would only
be a day delayed. could write as well
upon the next night!
So Henry went to Mr.. Bruce's, under
the wing of his uncle, the wealthy stock
broker.
"Well!'' quoth Uncle Peckham,
when the festivities were over, and
they were once more sitting beside the
that shone and sparkled like deep
hued rubies beneath the carved arabes-
ques of the marble mantel in the rich
mans dining-room; show do you like
Sarah Esterbrook?"
Every well, sir!"
Every welll'' sarcastically mimicked
Mr.. Peckham. "Do you know that her
father is worth a million?r
SIS he, sir?"
us he, sir? Henry" roared the old
81 believe you're a fool.
Why, there are a score of the wealthiest
young men in town who would give
half that they possess-for the smiles
and glances Miss Esterbrook vouch-
safed to you this very night"
''she was very polite, sir, ''said Henry,
with rather a puzzled look; ''but-"
"Politel And pray what would you
have, Mr.. DalmayneP Do you want a
woman to tell you out and out, in so
many words, that she likes you. before