Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1881-04-09

y
consideration Of propriety, and, big as
you are, shall push you out"
Stella yielded to necessity.
"Keep her quiet if you can," she
whispered to Lady Loring, in the mo-
ment of silence that followed. Even
Mrs. Eyrecourt was not able to talk
while she was drinking champagne.
In the next room Stella found Ro.
mayne. lie locked careworn and irri
table, but frightened directly when she
approached him. ,
"My mother has been speaking to
you," she said. 81 am afraid"
He stopped her there.
"She is your mother" he interposed,
kindly. "Don't think that am un-
grateful enough to forget that"
She took his arm, and looked at him
with oil her heart in her eyes.
"Come into a quieter room," she
whispered. Romayne led her away.
Neither of them noticed Penrose as they
left the room. lie had not moved
since Stella had spoken to him. There
he remained in his corner, absorbed in
thought-and not in happy thought, as
his face would have plainly bretrayed
to any one who had cared to look at
him. His eyes sadly followed the re-
tiring figures of Stella and Romsyne.
Tho color rose on his haggard face.
Like most men who are accustomed to
live alone he had the habit, when he
was strongly excited, of speaking to
himself "No," ho said, as the 40
knowledged lovers disappeared through
the door, 1" it is an insult to ask me to
do it." He turned the other way, es-
capped Lady Loring's notice in the re-
ception room. and left the house.
Romayne and Stella passed through
the card-room and the chess. room,
turned into corridor and entered the
conservatory.
For the first time the place was q
solitude. The air of newly y-inveLted
dance. family audible through the open
windows of the ballroom above, had
proved an irresistible temptation.
Those who knew the dance were eager
to exhibit themselves. Those who had
only heard of it were equally anxious to
look on and learn. Even toward the
latter end of the nineteenth century the
youths and maidens of society can still
be in earnest.-when the object in view
is q new dance.
What would Major Hynd have said if
he had seen Romayne turn into one of
the recesses of the conservatory, in
which there was q seat which Just held
two? But the major had forgotten his
years and his family; he, too, was one
OF the spectators in the ballroom.
az wonder," said Stella, "whethei
you know how l feel those kinds words
ii yonrs, when you sloke Of my mother
Shall 1 tell youf"
She pat her arm round his neck and
kissed him. He wa; man new to love,
i'll the nobler sense of tho word. The
exquisite softness in the touch of her
lips, the delicious fragrance of her
breath, intoxicated him. Again and
again he returned the kiss. She drew
back; she recovered her self-possession
with suddenness a"d certainty incon-
prehensiblo to man. From the depths
of tenderness sh passed to the shadows
of frivolity. In her own defense she
was almost rs superficial as her mother,
in less than moment.
"What would Mr. Penrose say il he
saw your she whispered.
"Why do you speak of PenroseP
Have you seen him tonight"
"Yes-looking sadly out of his ele-
ment, poor man. I did my best to set
him at his ease-because 1 know you
like him."
"Dear Stella!"
"No, not again! I am speaking
seriously, now. Mr.. Penrose looked at
me with strange kind of interest Il
can't describe it. Have you taken him
into our confidence ce?"
"He is so devoted-he has such o
true interest in me-" said Romayne-"I Il
really felt ashamed to treat him like a
stranger. On our journey to London I
did own that it was your harming let
ter which had decided me on returning.
I did say, must tell her myself how
we'll she has unders .ood me, and how
deeply I feel her kindness. Penrose
took my hand in his gentle, considerate
way. L understand you, too he said,
and that was all that passed between
u.s."
"Nothing more since that time?"
Nothing"
"Not a word of what We said to each
otter when we were alone last week in
the picture-gallery?"
"Not q word. am self-tormentor
enough to distrust myself, even now.
God knows, 1 have conc called nothing
from you, and yet. Am I not sell
fshly thinking of my own happiness,
Stella, when I ought to be thinking
only of you? You know, my angel,