Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1881-06-23

to try anu evade my determination
Clara. Which are you going TO do?
Give these so-called French lessons or
give me up?"
II certainly shall NOT give up my
French" she answered.
Then goodbye" answered Arnold,
and without waiting for an answer-in-
deed, without afiording her time to an
swer-he strobe away into the darkness.
When she started to meet him the
wish had been in her heart that she
might find and excuse to cast her lover
off; but now that he had taken the mi
tiative and had sternly and abruptly
quilted her, leaving her Sin maiden
meditation fancy free" she experienced
very different sensations to what she had
anticipated.
The tears rushed to her eyes, but she
suppressed them, and hurried home
ward.
II wish with all my heart" she said,
chat Francis Cox would ask me this
very night to be his wife"
When she reached home she found
that Francis Cox was absent.
On the table Of his sitting-room lay
an open letter, in what Clara believed
to be, his own handwriting.
Most young ladies are ;nGuisitive,
and Clara Moore was no exception to
the rule. She picked the letter up
and read it.
She had not perused three sentences
before she felt convinced it was from a
sweetheart. A full perusal confirmed
her suspicious beyond all doubt.
"And 90" she exclaimed, mentally,
her cheeks burning with indignation
and shame, and so he has deceived
me-"
The room seemed to swim round
with her She felt sick and faint.
She heard the street door open, and
she composed herself with great
effort.
Francis Cox entered the room.
"Ahr" he exclaimed "you have got
back early"
Rather" she replied, coldly.
"You seem out of sorts, my wild
hower"-a name he had given her.
"What is tue NATTER"
"You shouldn't leave your sisters
letters about, answered Clara, bitterly.
Francis Cox colored to the roots Of
his hair.
II hope" he said with composure,
"you are not so dishonorable as to read
my letters without my sanction?'
"Quite dishonorable enough an
swered Clara. "You are nice person
to speak of my dishonor; you have de-
ceived me foully."
Then with many tears Clara poured
forth her wrongs.
"You told me your only cores
yondent was your sister," she sobbed;
land all the while it was your
sweetheart, who is dying for the win
ter to come, when you are to be mar
ried. And yet you could lead me on
and pretend to be fond of me, and
teach me to grow fond of you, and-oh,
you are worse than cruel, worse than
cruel"
Here Clara Moore broke down in an
agony of tears. Mr.. Cox looked at her
with an expression of mingled annoy
ance and compassion.
"Haw!" he said at last, assuming
that air Of affectation which he had
ceased to adopt when making love to
the unhappy village belle, "Haw you
are too severe. Pm sure | never in
tended to lead you to imagine l was
seriously 10 love. If you've made that
mistake Pm awfully sorry, Pm sure;
but, of course, you know, you never
could have imagined l had any idea OF
marrying you?"
"If you didn't mean that, what right
had you to pretend to care for me?"
cried Clara. "You did everything but
ask me to be your wife"
"And, knowing our relative posi-
TONS" answered Francis Cox, ''you
could not in your senses have supposed
I should ever go as far as that. 1t was
merely harmless firtations to while
away the dull hours, nothing more"
"You coward p exclaimed Clara
Moore and, casting look of contempt
at Mr.. Cox, she quilted the room.
Shame and Indignation filled her heart.
To think she had allowed this man to
make a mere plaything of her; to
think she had cruelty neglected the
undetermined Arnold Carew for the
sake of an empty-headed, heartless
fap. For the time being poor Clara
Moore was insane. She rushed from
the house into the darkness of the
night and made her way to the river.
Why should she not end it there? She
had lost Arnold; she had been Tilted
and sneered at by the fine gentleman
lodger; she would be the laugh of the
village. Had SIZE committed an act OF
'dishonor such as stamps woman as
bad il the worlds eyes, she could not
have thought worse of herself.