The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-12-17

too, in her way.
ST did not know you were SO fond of
gentlemen's. s. society as to intercept my
VISITORS" Dahlia had said, sneeringly,
that day, after Roy had gone.
Pen. stung to the quick by all the in
suit implied, after one silent, indignant
glance, afterward absented herself from
the very house whenever Roy entered it.
It was only little way from her re-
treat in the woods, back of Thrushlands'
bright grounds, that Roy walked with
Dahlia and gave her his confidence, but
it was SO far among the oaks and chest
nuts that she heard never a word, though
she could plainly see his figure and the
crimson and black of Dahlia's dress
herself undiscovered.
miss Dane-Dahlia," he said-"I
want to tell you something which have
long kept secret, because it is very
precious to me. Will you hear it ?"
He did not observe the quick blood
mantle her smooth cheek; he only saw
that she consented, readily to sit on the
mossy rock to which he handed her, and
listen.
This earnestness and tender courtesy
what did it mean but that he was hers,
after all?
IT want you to be kind to me-" he
said, slowly. ST am going to confess to
you that love your cousin Pen, and
ask her to give you this letter"
He held the letter before her, but she
could not see it for the red cloud of pas
sion that swept before her eyes.
81 have tried to say-awkwardly
enough probably-what is in my heart.
But If she is what believe her to be.
she will be tender of such shortcomings.
Say, Dahlia, you have known her long
is she not as gentle, sweet and truthful
as little girl can be?''
Though you do not love Dahlia Dane,
reader. you might have pitied her then,
the enthusiasm of those handsome,
appraised eyes sent such q stab to her
heart.
''She has very nice disposition, and
will appreciate this, no doubt" taking
the letter.
\ ''It will be safe in your hands, and
you will give it to her soon?" were Roy's
words as he assisted her to rise; and they
walked on.
When Dahlia Dane was alone that
night, she looked her door, tore open
the letter and read its every word.
It was noble and manly letrer-one
she would have given her great fortune
to have had addressed to herself by Roy
Dalbert. do not know what prevented
her destroying it, for she meant that it
should never reach her cousins hand.
But this she did not do. She slipped the
sheet again into the envelope, and placed
the letter in Japanese writing desk,
where it lay undisturbed a whole year.
The next morning Pen was sent up
into New Hampshire to nurse an invalid
aunt.
When, on the evening of the second
day, Roy rode over to Thrushlands,
Dahlia said:
''Of course, delivered your letter at
once, and with pleasure; but my cousin
has been called from home by the illness
of one of the family. She promised to
write to you soon"
Roy was not suspicious. If he had
been, he might have made some in
quiries of others, and learned that the
illness referred to was but the chronic
complaints of old age, and that Miss
Charity Dane had retinue of servants
at her beck and call, and did not heed
Pen at all.
In truth, all unemployed, she was
wandering about the rich house, looking
wistfully from every window, and try
ing, with the worst success possible, to
forget Roy Dalbert.
She had been SO many years alon3,
was SO utterly unloyed, that it was cruel
that one little taste of sweetness, so
quickly withdrawn.
s'But Dahlia shall never say with
truth that soughthim, she murmured,
even with the tears dashing down her
face.
Dahlia had calculated rightly that the
Dalbert pride would not permit Roy to
write again. He waited first with hope,
then with anxiety, at last in the cruelest
suspense for an answer to his letter. Be-
ing certain shat she had received it, he
could finally come to no decision but
sweet light of those eyes was but will
o'-the-wisp, with no substance. His own
delusion had made her tender and true
to be unkind to the meanest
thing that loved her. He had offered
her an honest mans best affection-at
least she need not have scorned it, he
said. bitterly.
He would not talk of the matter even
with Dahlia, but, still pursuing the
downward path, she sought, in every
way possible, to strengthen his resent
ment against Pen, and destroy his faith
ia her.
One day, when she was riding with
her groom, she was thrown from her
horse. She did not seem much injured
1T first; a slight wound only had been
made upon her breast. But it did not
heal. Weeks and months went by. The
physician came, and came again, and
shook his head.
1T could not be he said, to Dahlia's
parents; sMiss Dane was too young for
such developement, which is almost in
rariably confined to persons of mature
vsars."
Dahlia was but twenty-fiv years old,
put the time had come for her to die. |
There was no denying that the hopeless
gap in that white flesh was a cancer of
he most malignant and unyielding
Kind.
When too weak to walk about the |
house; she lay in her chamber thinking |
about it. Roy Dalbert she had not seen |
'or months, but when she heard one day
hat he was on the eve of starting for |
Europe, she bade them cal PEN home.
Pen had never loved Dehlia, but when |
she saw how she had changed, she sob
bed.
Hush. child! Don't cry for me-cry
'or your own wrongs. Can not see that |
Vou have already almost wept yourself I
blind up there among the hills? Take |
hat letter from the desk. See, it is
directed to you Roy Dalbert loves /