Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1880-06-18

secret she had not known herself, until
now betrayed by her shame.
81 must leave this place. 1 cannot meet
him again. must go home! But, oh!
how can she give him up!"
Edith LoriDg and Lillian Ames were
cousins, but the one vas the daughter OF a
clergyman whose rectory was some ten
miles distant from Ames Court, one OF the
noblest estates Of England, and of which
Lillian was sole heiress.
The girls, however, had been closely
united, more by the tie of friendship than
cousinship, since the latter was distant
bond, and Ames Court was almost as much
Edith's home as her own. Now, however,
the homelier charms of the rectory were
very grateful to her. Here no one could
probe the disc very so new to berself--to
trace the scarlet blush which seemed so
often to burn on her cheek, until she Won
Iared that il did not leave its brand.
Size had been home six weeks, and twice
Oscar Dering had ridden over to see her,
but she had always denied herself to him
on some household pretext, until one morn
ing he overlook her in the road.
She had been busy with her thoughts of
him, wondering how he had borne his
ruptured troth, and reproaching herself
for the cowardice which heretofore had
forbidden her meeting him, when she
heard behind her the quick tramp of a
horses hoofs. His rider drew rein at her
side.
$50 am to find you at last, i" he said.
His voice sounded the same as of old
the bright, CHEEKY tone was uncllange d.
least he did not wear that cruelly-ased
portion Of his body upon his sleeve.
"Have you seen Lillian lately?" she at
last found courage to ask.
mo" he answered, aud then she saw the
frown gather Oh his brow, and an express
sion of pain come about his lips. ST see
as little of your cousin as possible now.
You know, Miss Loring, am no longer
subject for congratulation.
eyes, l know" she SAID. "I-'
''Don't pity me,'' he Interrupted. II
can It bear that quite yet.'
|
Piled.
And then the conversation drifted into
other channels.
'sOh, if Lillian had not spoken Of the
heart caught in the rebound!'' she thought
/! when week after week Oscar Dering would
find his way to the rectory garden, or the
rectory parlor, to spend long hours with
its fair young mistress.
She understood so well why he came,
because now and then Llllian's name drift
ted into the idle talk, and because, as he
grew stronger: he dared speak of her and
the love he had borne her. 1t was min
gled pain and pleasure to listen. If only
she had not learned her own heart, the
pain would have been less. But she was
destined to learn it more fatally, yet, as
enc morning, strolling through the woods
together, the sharp report of hunter s
gun close beside them startled them both.
The next instant her companion sank
white and senseless On the sward beside
her, while the affrlghted hunter, whose
mis-aimed charge mad entered his ANN
FASTENED forward.
s'Bring assistance, quickly!'' exclaimed
Edith, while she raised the heavy head to
her lap. Oscar, speak to me!'' she moan
ed Oscar! Oscar!"
Over and over again she repeated bis
name in the same accents OF despairina
love, until they seemed to force their way
into the e-pulses of lis being, and rouse
them to activity.
lie opened his eyes with half wander
ing look, as though delirium must have
overtaken him.
At this instant the hunter returned witt
assistance, and half hour later the
wounded man had been borne to the rec
tory, the wound dressed, and the knowl
edge given that it was merely flesh hurt
ainful but not dangerous; yet his lecove
ry was tedious affair.
He grew moody and distracted. It gave
him more time to think of Lillian and his
! loss, Edith thought, even while she won
dered why his eyes followed her with sucl
strange, questioning look. Once she
entered his room with some freshly cut
flowers in her hand.
"Where shall PUT them, Mr.. Dering?'
she questioned.
sMr. Dering?n he answered. did
not once hear you call me Oscar? Or Was
it sweet fancy. waited from dreamland?
Again the crimson tide dyed her face.
: "Den't!' She said, as though he had
hurt her, and fastened from the room
bearing with her the flowers, and it seemed
to him the light and sunshine.
Had he been blind all this time, and was
he just beginning to see?
A grand ball was to be given at Anne.
Court, at which Lillian insisted thai
Edith should be present. The Invalid was
fully recovered now, and he, too, was sum-
moned to the feast.
: Miss Ames had plunged into constant
galety since the breaking of her engage
ment to Oscar Dering, but it all had failed
: to fill the empty place in her heart.
On the evening of her ball, she picked
: up the paper sent down by the afternoon 4
mail from London. CHANGING idly over it,
: pages. she suddenly started at seeing the
name of the man to whom she SO lately ha(
been betrothed.
1t was published decision Of the court
$ that, owing to some disability, the title
could not descend to Oscar Dering's cou
sin, but, together with the estates, mus
. remain in it's possession.
He was, then, Lord Dering still. Foo
i that she had been But the decision had
$ been made public but few hours. He
f would never dream of the accident which
had brought 1t to her knowledge. To