The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1881-04-26

which Maud sits. So full of pathos ar,
the closing words that Lady Mand's lashes
are wet with glittering drops. Looking
up, he sees this, and springs to his feet.
Pardon me" he says gently. Wher
the fit comes my tongue runs away with
| me- / was scarcely conscious of nv au
ditor's presence. had no thought te
move you thus"
1t was like . poem" che answers
al could listen forever. Are you often
so inspired ?''
1t is . gift The inspiration comes
almost at viii. Sometimes / think could
sway thousands by it as one man, but
this is when am in . dreaming mood. -
What glorious career yours might
be % she cries, with flashing eyes
Al" he muses., nearly thirty years
wasted!' With Q sudden change of tone
=" You forget, Lady Maud, my highest
ambition At present is to win an heiress- y
He lays her hand upon his arm and
they move away, but there il silence until
the others are in sight. Then he points
to the distant hills, . sweep of the hand
taking in a broad expanse of meadow,
field, forest.
1t is great thing to be lord of such
domain, to know that every foot Of the
ground is ones own, to feel in every
nerve the sense Of proprietorship. M.y
not a man sell himself for delights like
these ?" There is a bitter ring in the
words. care you a landowner ?" he asks.
"No. My father, who was q younger
son, accumulated part of his fortune in
India, and left it to me, invested in India
railroads or something of the kind"
WE'LL" he says, "we have come back
to the realities of life now, at all events" !"
During the ride home, and for the re-
mainder of the day, he devoted himself
almost exclusively to May Hamilton.
When Lady Maud lays her head upon the
pillow, it is with sigh, as on the pre-
ceding night, and the words, How noble
he is !" But the passionate, I" hate him
| hate him" is wanting. Harold Rails
beck's lips that night wear = smile in
which triumph and pity are strangely
blended; and as he hurriedly writes a
letter, instructing solicitor to commu-
nicate to his creditors an intention to
give up everything in liquidation of their
claims, ne says once more:
81 shall win my heiress, but never wear
her,"
A week passes, bringing some changes
in Lady Maud's demeanor toward Harold
True to her promise, she gives him every
opportunity to be with her, inwardly re-
solving that this man shall rue his pre-
sumption, and lose heart instead of
IN h1aiP
self of these chances to make them include
tete-a-tete. At all events he assiduous-
ly cultiyates Mays society; still every
day Maud and he are together for an
hour or two. Sometimes he reads Shaks-
peare aloud, and they discuss the charac-
ters. Sometimes he places her in rustic
seat, throwing himself at full length on
the ground-his favorite position-and
talks as she has never heard man talk
before. He seems to have read every
thing, to have forgotten nothing, and
over every subject he casts such graceful
festoons of fancy that it is as though a
magician's wand had beauti6ed 1T. He is
an enigma to her, this man of wondrous
power, who has never done aught to
make stir in the world-this man Of
noble nature, who at this time is lending
himself to a pursuit so unworthy. Once
she tells him this, and for answer he gives
her the history of his life He speaks of
his vague impulses, the struggles of the
genius within, the lack of motive power
to arouse him from his apathy.
at has been my misfortune" he says,
"never to love. Could l meet my fate,
ha in, oil III
would be all the world to me, she might
inspire me-"
Hearing this strange thing happens.
A great longing comes to her to be that
"one woman" of whom he speaks.
She does not indulge it; she puts it from
her; she fears its strength. Then she
changes and becomes hard and cold She
wishes to avoid him, yet, from very pride,
forces herself to fight the battle still, de-
spite the traitor in the camp; while he,
noting with triumphant eyes the con-
straint of her manner, talks until he brings
her under the spell again. Sometimes,
as he relates some legend of truth and
constancy, SO softened do face and tone
become that she half hopes the tender
ness is in part for her; but the next mo
ment mocking recollections whisper, "
shall win my heiress, but never wear
her."
Another week passed. Lord Derwent-
water, Harold and the other gentlemen are
discussing their after-dinner wine, when
= servant enters and hands the host tel
egram. He reads it and grows pale and
agitated.
"No bad news, hope?" says some
one.
every bad," he answered, not for me.
but for Lady Maud. 1t is from her bro
ker. The great Bengalee Railway Com
pany, of which her father was director,
has utterly collapsed. She will lose every
penny of her fortune.
There is a chorus Of compassionate ex-
clamations, in which all join but Harold.
A fash of joy and triumph sweeps over
his face. It is momentary, however,
The next instant he il his usual grave self.
Poor girl!" says Lord Derwent-
water. al will see her At once and break
the news as best | can" So saying he
leaves the room.
A few moments afterward Harold with
draws also. At the doorway he meets
his host.
How does she bear it ?''
Bravely. All she said was, Now
people will think first of me, not OF my
possessions.' She is strange girl"
Where did you leave herp
"There ?"-pointing to . door at the
end of the hall +" She wishes to be alone
for while. Are you going to the draw.