Daily globe., 1880-07-18


and leave me and mine in peace
Her voice grew hoarse and low as she
finished this wild outbreak of emotion.
Her hands, clasped tightly around her
stick, began to tremble sadly.
The two young people looked at each
other in pale establishment. A vague
terror began to chill the warm sweetness
of Juliet's new born happiness.
"Why have you no faith in me, Mad
anne Schuyler?" asked Harry, at length,
very gravely.
"Why, why have no faith in you9"
her voice arose again, shrilly-"because
you are Harry Templeton: because l fear
the bad blood of the old Templeton stock
in your veins. I know your race, father
and son, and fathers father, too. Bold
and bad, with your winsom ways and
handsome taces, you have wrought trou-
| BILE always always. Do not come here
to make more. Go, and leave me with
what little I have left to me. The werld
IS wide for you; and We've ask only
this little corner of it for ourselves, Juliet
and To-
"Ahp' Drawing back, damned by the
smothered wrath of this sudden attack, the
young man had changed his position, and
now stoodtfacing the open door. Look
ing in he saw on the wall picture, the
fuIl-length figure of man. The bright
sunlight revealed the face, the clear-cut
features, distinctly. 1t seemed to be
himself hanging there against the old
oak -paneled wall. The features were his
own.
He passed, feeling as if he were IN a
dream, through the door and stood before
the painting. H1mself-himself as he
might have been had he lived half cen
tury before; his own person, in fine
courtly dress, with fine courtly look.
"Who-who is this2" he stammered.
'sWhose portrait is this so like me?''
It is Harry Templeton, as I knew him
fifty years ago." was the cold answer
Then, more coldly, more clearly still,
Madame Schuyler added the words
HE was your grandfather
"Ah!" The young man drew icng
breath.
His grandfather! How came it herei
Why had he never seen it or known OF
its existence? How like, too, the face
was to his own-ike his own! Yes; he
was proud of that. And yet-and yet
there is something he does not like IN it
this handsome picture.
He turned gravely to Madame Schuy-
Ter.
''If you knew my grandfather, you
knew a brave man-an honorable man
| he is so spoken of alWayS.''
An honorable man?' There was terri.
BILE mockery in Madame Schuyler's voice
"Aye, he held high trusts; he filed high
offices; kept, among men, his written o,
spoken word of honor; but there are locks
that lie with blacklist falsehood; there are
smiles foul with treachery, and there is
the clasp of hand which is like poison
GUS death''
She paused and turned her face from
the picture toward the open door.
'''He wrought me dole years ago. And
now, Harry Templeton,yo know why ]
have no faith in you. You are of his
race. The bad blood of that man is IN
your veins, his look is in your eyes. 60,
now, and do not come back again.
She crossed the threshold anG stood in
the open air, a still black statue.
| The young man turned to the girl who
loved him. She looked at him with wide
wild eyes.
"Shall I obey her, Juliet!''
No answer, only that wild, fearless
gaze.
"Tell me-shall obey her? Shall
co., to come back to you never again."
He took her hands in his.
81 love you, Juliet Your word shall
be my law. Shall I come back to claim
you as my wife,"
A long, cold shudder shook her from
head to foot. She raised the hand thai
held hers to her lips:
"Come back!'' = y *
He bends down closer to the pale rose
face lifted to his. All the tenderness
of loves forewell is in his bold eyes
now.
"I will come back to claim my aoife!'
'Juliet! Juliet!'' cries gay glrl-voice
from the garden. "Where are you, Juliet
We want you to help US make up &
gamep'
"You will have faith in me? You will
wait for me to come back?"
"Your friends are calling you, child,
says the grandmother's cold voice.
"Good-by, Juliet!''
So he goes!
| Juliet nnds her bewildered way down
to the garden. She is conscious of that
old sweet smell of the l1lacs-of a tumult
of laughing voices, of Madge Colchester's
curious eyes-and through it all she
hears the clank of chain as boat drops
gently down the tide-and then, slowly
past the garden wall, unseen and with 8
gentle dip of oars, a rover goes seaward
and a clear tenor voice sings low, but OH
so tenderly-for her.
| sTcould not love thee, dear SO much,
| Loved I not honored more"
So he goes-and leaves her-and she is
all alone-alone!
But one day little package comes fol
her. She recognized the handwriting on
the cover, and flies to her room, that she
may taste her happiness unmolested
She opens the wrapper and finds within
a little sketch in water-colors. A young
girl with a blush-rose in her hand, a knot
OF roses in her bosom, the sweetness OF
new born roses in her cheeks and lips,
their brightness on her forehead, their
perfume breathing all about her in the