The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1881-12-01
THE LAST OF THE DE VERES.
"Stephanie, I do wish we were lot 8

"a room in which costly furniture would
not have been out of place; but, save the
massive oaken chair in which Stephanie
was sitting, no article of value attracted
the attention.
AS Marie spoke she looked around the
large apartment with as much of an ex-
preston of disgust as her piquantly beau
tiful face could assume.
Sand why, child, do you wish for riches
nowi" asked Stephanie, looking up from
her knitting, and emphasizing the ''now. !"
Because, Stephanle," Marie replied,
81 am invited to Emily Adams party,
and have nothing fit to wear, even if
papa would let me 60"
Stephanie's keen eyes moistened IS she
smoothed back the dark ringlets from the
speakers brow.
Poverty is hard, Miss Marie, and it
is shame that you, one of the proud
old De Veres, should be kept from all
that makes youth happy and enjoyable.
When is the party to be, dear ?''
But by this time Marie's brief impa-
tience had passed away,
"Oh, never mind-after all, don't
care to go SO very much. Stephanie, tell
me a story--tell me about the De Veres
and my dear mamma, and before you are
through shall have forgotten the party
and that 1 ever fretted because I could
not CO."
Then, nothing 10th, with the garrulity
of an old servant, Stephanie told the list
ening girl all the stories (Which, though
often heard, were ever new of the glories
of the young French mother, who, though
not of noble blood, was more beautiful
than words could tell.
"Oh, my dear, your father was young,
and he loved her so that when he was
threatened with disinheritance, it made
no difference. He married her despite
all efforts to prevent, and brought his
bride to England-here to this old house.
How happy she was for year! Then,
dear, these faithful arms held you close
to her, that she might look and see the
baby whose little life had cost her her
own, for she knew she was dying. Your
father has never been the same since,
and that is why have taught you to be
SO patient with his peculiarities. re
member him when he was very different
from what he is now. and / know it is
grief for his young wife's early death that
has made him so cold and reserved"
BY this time Marie's eyes were full of
unshed tears. Stephanie had finished,
and, rising, she began to busy herself
about some household duty, while Marie
betook herself to her favorite nook in
the garden.
The unshed tears still filled her eyes,
and now they fell one by one down her
rounded cheeks.
"Ah," she thought, sadly, sit is 10
wonder papa does not care for me. If it
hadn't been for me my mamma would
not have died"
A tall figure entered the garden unno-
ticed by her, and walked up the path
overgrown with its border of luxuriant
uncared-for flowers.
"Crying, Marie9"
With fond gesture the young man
drew the weeping girl to him.
"Oh, Allan," was all Marie said, but
her tears still flowed. 1t is sweet to cry
when sympathetic arms surround one.
They made pretty picture as they
stood beneath the old oaks pendant
branches-two young beings in the rich
spring time of youth and beauty. He
with his fair Saxon skin and blue eyes,
she with her foreign piquant face. with
its rich coloring and dark, starry eyes.
"Are you coming to my sisters birth
day party, Maries' he asked after while.
81 think not, Allan; though 1 haven't
said anything about it yet to papa"
"And you had better not, growled
harsh voice which Marie knew well.
Unheard by the lovers, Mr.. De We're
had come softly toward them. Involun-
tarily Marie sprang away from Allan's
encircling arms, but not quickly enough.
"Young man, by what right do you
presume oput your arm about my daugh
ter ?''
Then, in an angry tone, turning to
Marie:
els this Stephsnie's bringing up? Has
she not taught you that maiden never
allows such familiarity save from be-
trothed lover 2''
Walking down the path, Mr.. De We're
motioned Allan to follow. By this time
the young man had recovered his com
posure.
"Mr. De We're, he said, in curt, dry
tones, ''when did you ask my permission
to address my daughter ?"
Allan's fair boyish face flushed as he
said apologetically:
81 should have spoken to you, l know,
sir, but Marie feared that you would not
be pleased-then, too, my people know
nothing about it"
With an angry Inconsistency Mr.. De
We're SAID quickly;
''Your people Do you mean to say
that they would consider marriage be-
tween you and my daughter-a De We're
in the light of mes dtliaRce?"
Allan's eyes sank beneath the piercing
glance bent upon him.
Not a mes alliance, but they wish
me to marry rich wife,
Marie had been standing where she
could not hear the conversation, except
lng every moment In coo L.. -, A.