The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1880-04-13

attract Frances and her grandfather
together, but rather widened the breach.
Not that she was noticeably unjust or
unkind. Indeed, In some ways she
manifested desire for the others hap
piness, but it must be in channel that
did not conflict with her own enjoy
ments. There she barred Frances out
relentlessly.
Yet Mr.. Murray's coming was destined
to work change. He had the rare
faculty to bring forth the best In those
with whom he came In contact. Frances
felt.it and though her wild dream had
been quenched before the first day end
ed, the desire still remained. She did
not dare repeat her morning walk, for
she had consciousness that Edith's
stricter sense would condemn such
proceeding if she knew such rambles
were not solitary ones, and she had no
desire to take upon herself any new
burthen of secrecy. And though Mr..
Murray managed sometimes of an even
ing to have a little unrestrained chat
with her, it could not have the freedom
of that first conversation. Once he had
said
" Have you given up your morning
walks { seem to wait in vain for some
one to share mine."
1T is not habit with me-" she had
returned gravely.
A man with an insight less keen
would have rellnquished the idea of
bringing her to more cheerful and open
life when she so resolutely fingered in
the shade. But some old dream urged
him on. Not that they were dull at
Woodlea. Mr.. Vaughan was hospita BILE,
If rather exclusive, and the summer
season brought some delightful society
to the village. In company Frances
was sometimes gay to extravaganza, but
it was something that panied rather
than pleased. Every day deepened the
curious interest he had taken in her,
which under some circumstances might
have been love.
n n
"Ah," Mr.. Murray said, coming upon
Frances Vaughan suddenly, one morn
ing in the library. II have absolutely
found you disengaged for once, or are
you going to plead some important bust
ness and run away"
She looked as If she desired to, but
there was no reasonable excuse at hand.
He studied her face attentively until it
flushed deeply.
You don't like your friend as well as
of DID," he said, presently. Have 1
grown so grave that you are afraid of
me ?"
She raised her eyes quickly, then, as
they dropped, gave little embarrassed
laugh, and answered indifferently.
{" Do you know" he continued, "that
l think you have hardly any right to
treat me in this manner Nearly
fortnight ago we renewed our old bond,
and you have Stunned the observance
of 1t in every respect. Am to believe
that was only girlish impulse? ? You
said then you needed friend.'
His voice was low and winning, one
of the tones that appeal directly to the
heart.
81 told you the truth" she returned,
slowly.
=" What is the difficulty? You are
not happy. have learned that, and
though can see that your life here has
been in many respects unfortunate, the
shadow is not so dense but some ray can
penetrate it,
1t is not that" and now her cheek
paled as she made long pause, glanclng
away from him to the lawn beyond the
window.
"What thenY 1t is so much to me
that ask"
If she had turned, the look in his face
would have startled her, but she was too
deeply occupied with her own thoughts
to question his.
" Frances" he began, g have story
to tell you. Years ago, when you first
came to Woodlea, you brought to me
new and peculiar interest. Your sunny
nature, your frankness, your high soul
that was honor itself, awoke in me
strong desire to watch the dawn of such
womanhood. 1t should have been
developed by tenderest care and appreci-
alton, and though when / left you / had
half fear, still 1t was impossible for me
to remain. And now find you dwarfed
and repressed, cold where you should he