The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1881-07-21

IN the confidential chat with Clare and
her mother before luncheon was served
in the quaint old dining room, / was
made painfully aware of the necessity for
concealing my encounter with Hilarie
and the consequent arrangement for Al
ton Woods on the morrow. Mrs. Breres-
ford was loud in her censure OF the i'm
providence OF her husbands brother in
lew. Arthur Graeme, which had resulted
at his death il the advent of Hilarie M
der her roof as a 'useless dependent up
on her unc'e." Clare's laughing sugges-
ton that Hilarie should replace her in
companionship to her mother after our
marriage, hurt me even more than Mrs.
Beresford's exclamations against the or
phan; there was such an utter want of
sympathy in smile and voice that con-
trasted oddly with the sweet emotional
face ] was longing to see again.
1t 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-
deayOrs 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 toward
her as distinguished themselves.
Indolent Clare 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 sojourn
at Beech Hall was free to pass the early
| morning hours in whatever way suited
my fancy, else l had not dared to appoint
the meeting with Hilarie, for Glare was
a very exacting little bride-elect indeed.
All, that delightful morning in Alton
| Woods; the first of many such when Hi
larie and I wandered, slketch-book in
hand, among the tall, straight pines, the
shadows of their murmuring branches
flecked with amber CLEANS of sunlight;
| or threaded our way through fern and
bracken to some specially dainty bit of
woodland scenery, where seated on fall
en- tree-trunk, or moss-grown boulder,
with waving grasses around her and vel
vet MOSES at her feet, Hilarie Graeme
seemed to my excited fancy the embodi
ment of some fairy denizens of the forest.
None knew but ourselves of these dali
ly meetings. Though no words had
passed between us as to the need of sec
recy, we bad tacitIy 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
that in her sweet innocence Hilarie sub
mitted herself so entirely to my guild
ance, for / 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 Glare
rGged me to ''stay little longer" and I,
against my better Judgment, stayed on,
unable TO deny myself those Llissful
hours spent with Hilarie, my beautiful
! love. Yes, it had come to that. I knew
now that Hilarie was more to me than
Glare ever had been or over could be.
and the knowledge that I was in honor
bound to the one, and dared 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 uufavor-
! ably with beautiful, high-souled Rilarie.
/ fancied, too, that my betrothed had
become conscious of some change in the
warmth of my manner toward her, for
lately she became strangely pale and anx-
lous eyed, while a new clinging lender
ness in her demeanor toward ne seemed
a conscious reproach to my faithlessness.
| Yet how could | wound sensitive Hilarie
by suddenly ending those meetings in
Alton Woods. Clearly it was my duty
/ to return to town at once, and on the af-
/ ternoon Of the day on which I arrived at
this determination went for last stroll
through the grounds, going mechanically
/ in the direction of Alton Woods.
I came suddenly upon Hilarie, who
! seemed intently reading or examining
scrap OF writing held in uer hand. She
started, ard crimsoned guiltily. l
thought, at my approach. crushing the
paper ruthlessly in her hand. Half jeal-
ous I inquired
Have | surprised secret, Hilarie?"
''No, she answered, still confused.
IHey were mercy some !lneS L had
/ written.
"Hilarie a poetess!" I exclaimed,
laughing.
''Scrihimus indocti doetique poemata
passim, " she answered pIayfully, and the
incident faded from my mind to be when
and how recalled little then imagined.
Hilairie received the news OF my ap-
preaching departure in a strangely silent
mood which piqued me not a little, es-
pecially when l found she was absent
from the dinner tabIa on this, the last
night of my stay. Glare, too, was away.
/ When L had communicated to her my re
/ solve to leave by the 1880 train on the
morrow she had kissed me as though she
I wore losing me eor ever. and ber white