The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1881-09-24
MORGANTOWN, w. VA, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER "a 1881.

sleep, and want to talk to YOU"
Then, without waiting further per-
mission. little, white-robed figure
glided in and sank on a stool at her
feet.
The moonlight showed the fair, up
turned face, and it was only the shad-
ow resting on her own soul which
made the older woman fancy that
graver expression was upon it than
its wont. She softly strokcd the
bright hair.
IL have something to tell you,
Miss Dora the girl went on, after q
little pause. 81 love you so much
that would like that you should
hear it first. But tell me first-am l
still a child? And do you not think
that children, as Ronald calls me, can
love?n
"You love, then?"
Almost breathlessly she put the
question:. Her own pain was swal-
lowed up in the joy that, at least to
Ronald, his love would not be re-
turned to him as bitter Dead Sea
fruit.
"Yes, love- said Cara. at was
such a funny accident, our meeting
1t was two years ago. His regiment
was stationed at the same town
where | was at school. He is only q
lieutenant, but he is so brave, so
handsome! NY own dear father was
an officer, you know. / think re-
membcring that first made me care
for him."
Then Miss Deane recovered her
breath
"a lieutenant? Who is this man?
OF whom are you talking?'
His name is Harry Linden. He
will be here next week. He is COM
ing down, he writes me, to ask my
guardians formal permission to mar
~ me. Oh, Miss Dora! do you think
he will refuse or be angry? He is
so old, perhaps he will have forgot
ten that he, too, once was young
Bitterest mockery of Fate So old,
she said, and not yet had forty years
crowned his brow.
Once again she met Ronald Ray
alone, as he came next day to plead
his cause. He listened with a white,
drawn face, while she told him of
that other secret with which she bad
been entrusted, meanwhile sparing
him, in the telling, all she could.
In her tender plying for his
wound, she forgot that hers, too,
bled.
you have been very kind" he
said, when she had finished, IL am
glad that she never suspected the
truth. / will not see her to-day. To-
morrow / will be stronger"
He turned, but as he gained the
threshold he tottered' strove to recov-
er himself, but failed, and fell for
ward on the floor.
The fever was upon him. Already
in his veins, the shock had brought
the hidden enemy to light. Tossing
in delirium for many weeks, Dora
learned how wholly the mans heart
had fastened itself upon the one hope
which cruelty bad failed him. For a
time it seemed as though it had
snapped the foundation of his life;
but it proved not so.
There came day when, opening
his eyes, he recognized the nurse
whose gentle touch had soothed his
fever-fancy hours. Slowly he re-
gained his strength; but it seemed as
though returning health brought
with it new vision.
Cara's acknowledged lover was
with them now. They who had well
coined him for her sake soon did so
for his own. Seeing them together,
none could wonder that each had
chosen the other; but how the sight
must pain the older man?
With all her ingenuity, Dora stroye
to keep it from him, until he said to
her one day: fM
my wound has been cauterized /;
it hurts no longer"
He was brave and hid it, she told
herself. Did she not know that such
wounds never healed? e s
Thus the weeks rolled on, until it
came the time for Cara's wedding.
She had returned to her guardians
home which she now was to leave for
ever.
1t was the evening before her mar
riage, when Dora sitting alone, heard
the step she had learned to know so
we'll.
AS he had done once before, enter
ing the room where she sat, he came
straight toward her, taking both her
hands in his.
ssDora," he said. "Do You remem-
Der that you once told me that plead
ing my cause i could not be denied?
Will you make good your words?
Must I be punished because for long
years l have been blind? Hove you,
DEAR! / want you for my own--my
wife. Will you forgive the infat-
uation which misled me from the
real cry of my heart, and now answer
itp 1t is very empty. Will you fill
it%'
She looked up into his face. Was
it pity that she read there-pity which
prompted the words for which her
hungry heart had thirsted all these
years? No, no! 1t was the light of
l1..1 .~l - ls..rx,<,xl Co.. ho~ Che