The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1880-01-10

N'NiN vas NV Nbbhhhh VI diNl III
either heart. He was above all man of
honor, aud she of all else a loyal woman.
Yet how hearts dclude themselves. In
the very pride of his strength Samson was
shorn of his locks.
One quiet evening in July DR.. Pauld-
ing had taken tea at Bonnybrook, and
Constance-his "hostess' only, she called
herself-strolled down to the gate with
him His impatient horse was biting the
rough old hitching-post aud throwing up
clouds of dust with his fore feet. He had
been kept there four hours, and he seemed
more eager than his master to leave Bon.
nybrook behind him. The doctor idly
plucked some heliotropes as they strolled
down the rose-bordercd paths, and mingled
with the flowers some dainty mignonette
and pale bud or two of the tea rose. At
last he placed the bouquet in her hands
and said dreamily
"Read the emblems, Constance-you,
who are priestess in Floras beautiful
temple"
She quickly looked over them.
"Ah,' she said, "you choose well, Sir
Botanist. Here you have "beauty in re-
tirement,' 'constancy' is good
and "I am not summer friend'-that is
better than all. But you aatter with your
flowers nevertheless
"Not you" he replied eagerly, almost
tenderly, aud in voice that somehow
frightened her.
She replied almost coldly--although her
heart was strangely beating aud warm,
unusual color was in her face ;-"My best
friends will tell you, doctor, that | am
ugly aud commonplace. Believe them, |
beg of you, and do not let your imagiua-
ton invest me with any charms
lie seemed all at once to be carried
away by his passion. He leaned over her
and replied, warmly ~ say you are
beautiful, Constance Owen. | feel your
beauty in my very SOUL But he said no
more.
The face of Constance was study; the
flush that before had crmsoned her cheeks
died out, and she became ghostly pale
Her fingers, which had clasped the flow
ers, slowly opened and they dropped to the
ground at her feet. All at once the vision
Of the dead woman seemed to present itself
to her mind, and the Ist she was violat-
ing struck cold to he; Aeart. Was this the
"Foreyer" she ha3 spoken? She stagger-
ed and would hive fallen; the arms of Dr.
Paulding were about her, but she waved
him away in moment with such a pit
cous, despairing gesture that he Obeyed
her without word. She only had strength
to falter:
"Go--and remember Edith"-and she
staggered back toward the house, leaving
him standing there, bent and trembling.
She did not know how she reached her
own room; the strong woman had learned
at the same moment she loved that she
must sacrifice and renounce.
She stood for hours white aud motion
less, looking out at the sunset and the
gathering gloom Of evening, with wild
thoughts chasing themselves through her
brain and dumb, aching pain in her
heart every hope trailing in the dust,
like those sweet flowers he had given
her. She laid her head after awhile upon
her hands on the window easement Of her
room, and wept softly through the long,
long hours, until she heard the village bell
strike the hour of midnight She had
prayed aud wrestled with her grief and
agony, and rose up at length quiet and
calm, She had yielded to duty and her
promise to the dead
Somehow Constance Owen seemed to
grow prettier as the months passed by
there was some refining change which was
soltening her rugged features aud round
ing every line in her stately form, The
summer into autumn had flown, and still
Edith 0rmond had not returned TO Bon
nybrook Her aunt had died, and letters
came from time to time saying that ere
long she would be home, yet she came not.
Could she suspect the disloyalty of her
lover?
1t was late in the fall, when the woods
had put on their pomp of glory, and the
chill winds sent the fallen leaves through
the valleys near Bonuybrook, when DR..
Paulding rode up to the house and asked
for Constance. She had only received
him twice before since the summer even
ing, and had then cOnlrived by womanly
tact not to be alone with him-although
she no longer doubted her strength. Con
stance on this occasion received her guest
alone; there seemed strange embarrass-
ment in his manner. After the first greet
ings were over, he said
Constance have much to say to you
to day. Do you think you can listen to
me calmly ?"
"Ycs," she replied, "if il is upon a sub.
jcct on which you should speak and she
added tremblingly-"to which | should
listen"
"Both," he said. "When first l saw
Edith 0rmond was captiyated by her
beauty aud girlish graces; thought |
loved her
Constance would have stopped him by
gesture, but he gently begged her to
listen-"ior you can do so now" he said,
sin all honor and reason
He continued;
III had never had my heart stirred by
the full knowledge Of love, however, until
/ knew you and discovered the breadth of
your sympathies and the womanliness Of
your character never respected you
more than when you rejected me, knowing
| was the engaged husband Of Edith. But
fate has been kind to US both" His voice
was trembling with emotion. Read the
last part Of this letter"