The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1881-09-22
NUMBER %.

aristocratic little lady of twenty sum-
mers. She was extremely devoted to
me while was proud to know that only
a few short months must intervene be-
fore the time fixed for our marriage.
In the confidential chat with Glare and
her mother before luncheon was served
in the quaint old dining-roo I was
made painfully aware of the necessity
for conceaing my encounter with Hilarie
and the consequent arrangement for Al
ton Woods on the morrow Mrs. Beres-
ford was loud in her censure of the i'm
providence of her husbands brother in
law, Arthur Graeme, which had resulted
at his death in the advent of Hilaire
under her roof as "useless dependent
upon her uncle" Clare's laughing eug-
gestion that Hilarie replace her in COM
panionship to her mother after our mar
riage, hurt me. even more than Mrs.
Beresfords exclamaions against the or
phan there was such an utter want of
sympathy in smile and voice that con-
trasted oddley with the sweet motional
face I was longing to see again.
It was not until dinner that my wish
was gratifed, when, after careless in
PRODUCTION from Mr.. Beresford, Hilarie
flashed one warm grateful glance into my
face, and throughout dinner preserved a
grave silence, my few well-meant en-
deavors at conversation with her only
eliciting low monosyllabic replies, and
the cold surprise in the faces of Glare
and her mother that should address her
warned me for Hilarie's sake to appear
to maintain the same Indifference to-
ward her as distinguished themselves.
Indolent Glare retained her town habit
of keeping her room until the morning
was far advanced, when she would de-
scend in the most bizarre of morning
toilets in time for the late breakfast with
mamma; consequently during my So
journ at Beech Hall was free to pass
the early morning hours in whatever way
suited my fancy, else had not dared to
appoint the meeting with Hilarie, for
Clare was a very exacting little bride
elect. indeed.
All, that delightful morning in Alton
Woods the first Of many such when
Hilarie. and I was ordered. sketchbook
in hand, among the tall, straight pines,
the shadows of their murmuring branches
fiecked with amber CLEANS of sunlight,
Or threaded our way through fern and
bracken to some specially dainty bit of
woodland scenery, where seated on q
fallen tree-trunk, or moss-grown bowlder,
with waving grasses around her and
velvet masses at her feet, Hilarie Graeme
seemed to my excited fancy the embodi-
ment of some fairy denizen of the forest.
None knew but ourselves of these
daily meetings. Though no words had
passed between as to the need of secrecy,
we had tacitly accepted it as fact, and
apparently our mutual indifference to
each other when in the society of the
Beresfords was as marked as ever.
Sometimes my conscience smote me
mitted herself 80 entirely to my guidance,
for I knew if we were discovered hard
things might be said of her, but I was
prepared to defend her with my life if
need be, and hall and wood being so
isolated discovery was scarcely to be
| feared.
Days had heightened into weeks, until
more than a month had elapsed since
my arrival at Beech Hall, and still Clare
urged me to "stay little longer" and I
against my better judgment stayed on,
| unable to deny myself those blissful
hours spent with Hilarie, my beautiful
love. Yes, it had come to that I knew
| now that Hilarie was more to me than
Clare ever had been or ever could be,
and the knowledge that I was in honor
bound to the one and dare not reveal my
secret to the other was daily, hourly
| torture to me. Heaven knows I tried
hard then to be loyal to my troth but
Clare's evidences of affection grew daily
more distasteful to me, and found my
self constantly comparing her unfavorably
| with beautiful, high-souled Hilarie.
| fancied, too, that my betrothed had be-
come conscious of some change in the
warmth of manner toward her, for lat
terly she became strangely pale and
| anxious-eyed, while a new clinging ten
derness in her demeanor towards me
seemed conscious reproach to my faith
| lessness. Yet how could wound sensi-
tive Hilarie by suddenly ending those
meetings in Alton Woods. Clearly it
was my duty to return to town at once,
and on the afternoon of the day on
| which I arrived at this determination I
| went for q last stroll through the grounds,
going mechanically in the direction Of
Alton Woods.
I came suddenly upon Hilaire, who
seemed intently reading or examining
a scrap of writing in her hand. She
started and crimsoned guiltily, I thought,
| at my approach, crushing the paper
ruthlessly in her hand. Half jealous, ]
inquired:
"Have surprised secret, Hilarie p
"No," she answered, still confused,
"they were merely some lines 1 had
| written"
| "Hilaire poetess !" i exclaimed,
laughing.
"Scri6inaus indocti doct,que poeD,at0
| passiaa," she answered playtully, and
| the incident faded from my mind, to be
| when and how recalled T little then i'm.
agined.
| Hilarie received the news of my ap
| preaching departure in strangely
silent mood, which piqued me not q lit
tie, especially when I found she was alb
sent from the dinner-table on this, the
last night of my stay. Glare, too, was
away. When 1 had communicated t.
her my resolve to leave by the IL 81
train on the morrow she had kissed m,
as though she were losing me forever
and her white, wan face and pitiful blut
ewes touched ME so deeply that l hat
taken her in my arms and kissed away
her tears. promising to return long be
fore the day fixed for our wedding.
"Oh, Gerald !" she sobbcd, II coul(
not give you up, dear, now," and agaii
wondered could she have guessed m.
secret. Still pale and trembling wit
agitation she had gone to her room ant
at dinner her maid informed us tina
Miss Glare had given orders not to b'
disturbed, and Hilarie, being inquired
for, was found to have gone out som
hours previously and had not yet re