The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1879-11-16

A magnificent room, large, lofty, auG
furnished withalmost Oriental splrndor
from the velvet carpet, into which tn,
foot sank noiselessly, the silken inlait
furniture, the wondrous gems of ar
that adorned the walls, the rare statue.
that filled every conceivable mock, t.
the most minute article in room.
At n of the windows a tall, slepde
woman stood holding back with a slen
der, jeweled hand the foam-like draper
ies-a m so radiantly, rarely beau
tiful that ven the casual passer-by hal
paused with a look of involuntary ad
miration on his face.
The low white brow, the great darl
eyes, the curving crimson lips, and way
ing masses of blue-black hair, made {
picture almost perfect in its loveliness
And yet it was not a satisfied face
there was a look of past pain and pres.
emit longing, strangely mingled, resting
upon it. Where the expression lay you
could hardly tell, only it was there.
And this graceful woman, who seem
ed born for the wealth hat surrounded
her, wa Renee CORTLAND, who had
lain so white and still in Victor Gray's
arms six long years before.
The change in her life had come SO
suddenly, so unexpectedly. An uncle
of her fathers who had never spoken
to him after his marriage with the
pretty French girl, had seen Renee and,
being childless, had left her all his
wealth.
mot for love,'' he said, ''she was too
like her Frenchi6eld mother for that,
though there was something of the
CORTLAND about her as well, but simply
because she was a CORTLAND and his
nearest of kim"
But loyal Renee had never forgotten
her old friend, for when in her stately
home, Margaret Gray was with her,
and every summer the little cottage
welcomed her fair young face again.
For weeks and months after the day
the tainted in Victor's arms, Renee
had been the shadow of her former salt.
Pale and listless, it seemed as if hope
would W. reassert her sway in the
tender young heart, and Victor watch
ed her, suffering almost as much in his
great love for her.
1t seemed at times to Renee Court
land as if her heart must break, with
its passionate pain, but hearts do not
easily break at II, and Renee conquer
ed her love, then buried it out of sight
forever, and as time passed on, if it
arose to confront her she put it aside
with all the strength of her nature.
Then came the great change in her
life, and smiles came back to the beau
tiful face, though sometimes the sha-
dow of the old pain darkened it.
And four years later she met Lester
Sinclair again, handsomer. if possible,
than ever, with a new gravity about
him hat became him well.
He had laid his fair young wife to rest
in her grave, and was free again.
Renee's face grew pale when she first
heard it, paler still as he bent over her
hand, and then the past seemed to be
forgotten.
Even when he married the wealthy
heiress, Clare Duvane, Lester Sinclair
knew that the little, dark-eyed girlheld
more of his heart than he would will
ingly acknowledge, and now, seeing
her day after day, so regal in her love-
illness, the old love deepened, till Renee
CORTLAND held every hope of happiness
for him.
ed an added restfuless in HRenee's
eyes, that the weary look around her
mouth %deepened, and could scarcely
understand it.
He enters the room now, graver, per-
haps sterner than of old, and the girl
came forward to meet him.
"You are welcome, Victor, she said
clasping his hand, land Margaret will
be SO very glad"
"You do not look happy this evening
Renee" he said, his eyes on her face.
The girl turned away with an impa-
tient gesture.
II am not happy" she said; ''my life
has been n mistake.n
(which will be righted in time,' he
answered quietly, though his face paled
slightly.
Concluded on Second Page. +.