The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-07-16
TRIED AND TRUE.

TRIED AND TRUE.
In the midst of pleasant conversa-
ton with his hostess, Harold Arleigh
abruptly paused, a sudden flush on his
face, o strange, startled look in his hand
some dark eyes.
What he had been about to say he
never knew; of his ungraciousness he
was not conscious until he saw Mrs.
Goldsby's glance of politely surprised in
quiry.
s.Pardon me-" he said, turning toward
her with winning and apologetic smile,
ST saw lady among your guests Just
now SO like dear friend knew and lost
long ago, that the resemblance quite ex-
cited me-"
ssAh, you mean the young lady in
| white silk and opal ornaments, with yell
low curly hair and cheeks like peach
blossoms. She is very beautiful there
| is none like her. She is Ermengrade
Burroughs, dear friend, who is staying
| with me for few weeks. Shall 1 intro
duce you?" returned the lady.
eff you wish if you will be SO kind
as to honor me, !" faltered the young man,
visibly embarrassed.
His hostess gave him one keen but
covert look.
ssErmengarde has made another con-
quest she thought. eff / dared 1
| should warn him. I should tell him
| that this fair woman, with her alluring,
smiling eyes, her sweet voice and her
exquisite grace, has no heart to be won. ;"
Five minutes later her two friends
were whirling through waltz together,
| and she wondered somewhat why Harold
| had grown so pale, and why Ermengarde
4 ho,, w. nd
Gone would think they were lovers
who had quarreled," was her mental
| criticism.
She was not wrong, for years before
these two had1oved each other dearly.
They had been betrothed, and the mar
riage day fixed, when the trial came that
| parted them. Harold Arleigh suddenly
| found himself fatherless and utterly pen
niless; but idleness and luxury had not
spoiled his high and noble spirit. He
could cheerfully accept years of toll and
study and struggling, but he felt that he
could not happily and conscientiously
wed his wealthy Ermengarde until he
might regain his worldly equality with
her.
''The' world says unpleasant things of
poor men who marry rich women, he
had told her.
'sWhy should we care for what the
world has said or may say?" the girl
returned impatiently. ALI I have be-
longs to you, Harold. Do not leave me. !"
Even in that trying moment, with
her dear hands clinging on his arm,
her pleading eyes upon him, he never
wavered.
ST must, my darling, he had answer
ed her firmly, though his heart was
heavy with regret and pain. Sand re-
member, though I leave you free, I
deed as the only woman can ever make
my wife. I am not selfish enough to
ask you to wait for me for years, my
Ermengarde."
What the girl replied she could never
distinctly remember, but she knew her
words were cruelty reproachful, and she
was half mad with the agony of losing
him for even few brief years.
And he left her with with a look on
his white, beloved face she would never
forget until her dying day.
She felt that he had wronged her gen.
erous affection, insulted her womanly
pride and left her with pitiless indiffer-
ence to be scorned and Knocked as a
bride deserted by her bridegroom. She
had heard of sweethearts who had waited
for lovers who had never come; of wo-
men who had wasted the best years of
their lives upon lovers that were false;
and her whole soul cried out in bitter,
unforgiving anger against him. Neither
pardon nor trust would she give him.
And yet she accepted the freedom he had
given her with that sort of defiant mis-.
cry all women feel when slaves of a love
that neither time nor anguish nor hu-
mil lot Inh II ms
can ever lessen.
And that night at Mrs. Goldsby's
soiree they had met again-met after long
years as strangers.
And during those years Harold Arleigh
had won that for which he had toiled SO
faithfully. He had won an honorable
position among the most honorable men;
he was esteemed as one of the most bril-
liant members of the legal fraternity;
and by travel and study he had acquired
that elegance and dignity of manner
that commands the homage of society.
If Harold Arleigh chose to wed an
heiress the world could not say he mar
ried for money and social distinction,
nor would he feel that he would barter
the noble independence of his manhood
by such union.
But for him the wide world held only
one woman, sweet and dear, and she, 1t
seemed, was no longer attainable.
s'Is this the Ermengarde have loved
all my life?" he asked himself, as he
gazed upon her fair, passionless face;
the Ermengarde in whose affection and
faithfulness I trusted despite her unrea-
sonable anger against me 2"
And he sighed heavily as he led her to
seat after the waltz was over.
ST did not think to meet you here, he
faltered, as the gay groups swept by,
leaving them alone.
"We meet many people unexpectedly,
Mr.. Arleigh," +" she answered in cold, Sc
rene voice.
Her cool tranquility almost maddened
him. The years that had passed seemed
to him but the dreary dream of an hour,
and the sorrowful parting but of yester-
day.
He bent over her until his hot breath
burned her cheek.
sErmengarde, y he whispered in hoarse,
agitated tones. s'are you SO changed
Have you really forgotten, or do you
quite ignore what we were once to each
other? have been faithful. have
made myself worthy to ask you to be my
wife. Give me one word, Ermengarde-
one word to send me from you again, or
r., I-oo,, r,,, ~, x,o,,, c;Jo for tho ,on,oin.