The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1881-06-22


that torture you, answered Clariee, select
ing newspaper from those scattered upon
the table.
She handed this paper to her cousin, and
then resumed her seat, watching furrvely
from under the shadow Of her long eye
lashes. 45t 49,
He read the paragraph to which she had
pointed, and the newspaper dropped frGn
his hand. He sat, silent and mOtionless,
The paragraph which he had read was
worded thus:
stATARR1AeE IN HIGH LRE-We under
stand that General Dumont, of the United
States Army, is about to lead the beautiful
Miss Maud 0vington, only daughter of Hon
orable James Ovington, to the hymeneal
altar. The General is one of the wealthiest
residents of this city"
ssWell, cousin" said CIarice, after a long
pause 'sare you satisfied of her falsehOOd?"
''Nor cried the artist passionately-
only from her own lips will condemn her.
This may be only idle gossip of the hangers
on of the fashionable world. My darlin8!'
he exclaimed, addressing the picture upon
the easel, show can doubt you? Truth
looks from those radiant eyes; love breatbes
from those rosy lips, and no words but yoar
own viii convince me of your falsehOod.
AT Ills 1uOL4CAb u bhNASAAy
stopped in the street below, and fashion
able footmans rap resounded from the door.
perhaps you may hear those words ere
long" said Clarice, looking from the win
dow, 'for Miss OvingtOn is here. It must
be something very extraordinary which can
have brought the queen Of fashion to the
artists humble studio"
':Maud. herer cried Clarence Suydam.
s'You are dreaming, Clarieer'
A., "
is the lady's carriage, and there is the lady
herself" added Clarice, as an elegantly
dressed woman descended from the vehicle.
The artists care-worn face grew pale as he
recognized the original of the miniature.
''Aaud at my studio!" he muttered;
something strange must have happened
Leave me, Clarice-Ieave mel" he added,
with nervous impotence; ST must see her
alone"
The young girl retired silently into an adj
joining apartment, which was divided from
the artists studio by heavy curtains of dam
ask.
Clarence Suydam listened to her retreat
ing footsteps, and then, going to the cur
tains, parted them and looked into the
apartment within.
1t was empty. His cousin Clarice had
left i by door opposite the curtained arch
'Say-a door which led to the other part of
the house.
E.AIl is safe" said Clarence, as he closed
the curtains I've must have no listener.
/ scarcely know why, but there is something
in Clariee's manner which inspires me with
fear. What terrible hatred she betrays to-
ward the woman I lover
He was silent, his heart beating violently,
as he listened to a light tootstep upon the
staircase without.
cit is shell" he exelaimed-''it is Maudp
The door opened, and the original of the
miniature entered the room.
Miss Ovington was paler than the artist
himself. Her large blue eyes were sur
rounded by purple circles, which told of
sleepless nights, harrassed by anxious
thoughts. The hand which she extended to
the artist trembled as he grasped it in his
OWN.
''You here, MaudT' he exclaimed.
ayes" she answered, Withdrawing. her
hand; 'I come alone, unannounc6d at the
risk of my reputation, because life and death
Ire in the Grand.
''Life and deathl"
ayes, Clarence, my life or my death. I |
came to demand of you a sacrifice"
"a sacrifice" repeated the artist, trembl.
ng.
ga sacrifice, Clarence, said Maud Owing
must release me from the vows /
which bind u.s."
sRelease you, Maud? NeverT
'FYou must, I tell you, Clarence" she 1
aid, her large eyes dilating with glare Of |
everish brightness. 81 told you but mo-
nent ago that came upon an errand of life
md death; l spoke the truth when said so.
can never be your wife!
AS Maud Ovington uttered these words q
singular change came over the face of the
rtist. Until that moment, his gaze had
)een fixed, with earnest alteration, upon the
of the woman he loved, but as
hese words were spoken his brow con-
racted, the light in his eyes slowly faded,
nd the lines about his mouth assumed the
igidity of iron.
1t was as if in that one moment his feel
ngs toward Maud Ovington had been trans
ormed from love to hate
81 understand you, Miss Ovington," he
aid. SIT is an old story The artist who
,ainted your portrait and who fell wildly in
owe with the original, was, no doubt, anus
ng-for a time. But, ridiculous as the
mans folly has been, you have at last grown
reary of it and come to-day to tell him So"
Clarence, you are mOclling mep'
''Not so; it is you who have Knocked me;
is you who have sported with the heart of
be struggling artist; it is you who have led
i'm on with dreams of elysium, and who
ow casts him back upon the realities of
ell. Do not fear me, Maud Ovington; I
slease you from the VOWS which Won
reathed few brief months ago Tho wo-
ian I loved was all truth and constancy,
ut discover to-day that she was but a
FEATURE of the artists fancy-she was never
Laud Ovington. I have read of your in
nded marriage in the Herald, madam. Z
now all.
''But you do not know the motives for
lat marriage, Clarence"
GET do Snaly ~ kT00xV fhau1 %
'F'You do not know that my father is q
lined man; that this marriage alone can
we me from abiect poverty-the most alb ;
ct, the most terrible poverty-the poverty |,
the great, who dare not confess that they =
-e poor"
II would have worked for you, Maud"
id the artist, reproachfully.
Eyes, and at best your work would have !
ven me-breadP' answered Miss Ovington, :
it'll bitter laugh. at was a bright
team, Clarenee; do not be angry with me-
am Che first to awaken from that dream. =
Oh could never have given me wealth and H.
llendor, and those are as necessary to me
the air l breathe. The General can give
E these, and he can save my father from !,
in; have therefore accepted him."
$50 be it, madam. And you have come .
bid me farewell. I do not complain:
lall conduct you TO yodr carriageP h
mot yet, Clarence; have a favor TO ask !,
you" !
"a favor2" a. ... $1,000 .--
''Yes. In the old, happy time, while our
ief dream of love lasted, wrote you sew =,
al letters-letters in which poured out :
y soul to the man l loved. You have them :
ll?"
81 have them still. Ay, Maud Ovington, 3
nave kept them as q miser would keep the =
rest jewels from monarch's crown. =
lere are thirteen CT those dear letters
irteen letters filled with vows of love and =
which 1, POOR fool, believed"
''You must return me those letters, Clar.
&C. said Maud Ovington. 8
Return them! Why, MADAME"
Because General Dumont is a proud "
IN. When he made me the offer of his ~
al, he extorted from me an oath that ] M
never loved before"
And you took that false oath, Maud NJ
ington?' -
I did, Clarence; was mad perhaps, but in
hfA