Litchfield enquirer., 1881-07-28
WHOLE NO. 2877

way unlk6 neT, TOT tQ6T6 was SOUeL0l0K ID the attitude of the girl strongly suggestive of tears. -s. ....
 At the opening of the door, however, the head was raised little, and a sufficiently steady voice asked 'Is that you Pollie2" Then immediately added in rather a startled tone: .'Mr. Weston!" I ''Yes, it IS I, Mr. Weston. You know you were called away out of the biliard-room this morning, before had time to say what 1 wanted to say, so now have followed you up here to go on with my story."'
 He had crossed the room whilst speaking, and was now standing in his accustomed attl. tude before her, one arm resting on the man tel shelf. He spoke quietly, very quietly, but there was something in his calm, determined tones that made Charity lift her head and say quickly, but very gently: ''No, please do not go on with it. l think would rather not hear it." But as she lifted her head to speak, the firelight shining across her face betraSeda gleam of tears on the dark eyelashes.
 "But you shall hear it" he said with sud den determination. kneeling by her side and clasping her hands in his. fCnarlty, dear Charity, love you You know it, you must know it. Will you forget what short time we have known each other, and promise to be my wife ?" .............
 'sI cannot" in soft low voice, but with the words, splash fell large tear on to the hand that held hers.
 "What are you crying for ?" without heed- ing her words "You were crying when came in; you have been unhappy all day. May not even know what is the matter?"
 But there was no reply.
 "Charity !'' she startled at the word.
 ''You must not call me that, she said.
 ''You must give me reason, then. l can not take your words yet as an answer to my question: for, Charity love you ]"
 ''But you must not ]" she cried, drawing away her hands from his, and rising to her feet with sudden decision. My answer tO'your ques-
 tion is 'No."'
 The tears were gone now; she was stand
 ing opposite him, the width of the fireplace
 between them-the stately Charity Warburton
 he had first known-and he felt very much
 further apart from her than he had donu
 from the fearful girl seated in the old arm chair. ....,.
 Nevertheless he was in earnest, and no fan cied separation should affect him. She did
 not shrink away from him, but stood perfect
 ly still, only she never raised her eyes. Then,
 -"you do not love me ? That was what he said quite low, as he thus paused beside her.
 He waited what might have been whole
 minute in perfect silence, the only sound the
 noisy ticking of the clock, and then with an impatient movement he turned away.
 'Sience means consent," then he said It, tie bitterly. ''I will not bother you any m0re
 Good-by Miss Warburton !"
 She had not looked up till then, but as lIc
 said those words, almost involuntarlly she
 raised her eyes to his, and all their sad story
 was so easy to read Even then she made no answer in words, made no attempt to prevent his departure.
 But Mr. Weston turned back at once
 Charity" he sald in troubled voice, "look up," aud she obeyed. 'Charity," he went on, red flush for
 moment appearing on his dark cheek, "l be.
 leve," with momentary hesitation, "that you do like me"
 ''Mr. Weston," she replied, clasping her two hands tightly together, and her low voice grew louder still as she spoke, Eff tell you one thing you will understand why yon | must go away at once, and never speak to me any more. 1 am to marry Cousin Felix" s'Yes," he said, ''so l have been told" | He did not mention Pollie's name and Chari- | ty never thought of her.
 Her father was the person she did think | of but what did it matter after all. ln a it- | tie while every one would know 1t, only ! ''Mr. Weston, then if you knew it--" "You think Ishoud not have spoken. But do not see that. You are not engaged to him. It is only fair should take my chance, and
 have taken it. And I believe" with sudden Vcl6menC6, ''L0ab IL IucT6 were uO NOuSlu Felix in the case. should have won you. Is
 it not so Say yes Charity" ''It is very hard!" she cried, answering his words. II have caused you trouble, and yet have tried SO hard to do right, and every l thing seems wrong"
 "Don't talk like that, Charity. You shall do 1 right, or rather, what you think right. shall not try to prevent youl will go away
 tonight, or tomorrow morning, and you will Aever see me again, aud shall sacrifice your | self as you see fit, or rather as your father sees fit for it is for his sake l suppose, you are doing it. But first of all, dry your tears | forget all 1 have said to you, remember only what friends we have been these last three | weeks, and tell me the whole story. Perhaps 1 a door of escape may yet open!" But though Charity shook her head at that | she allowed herself to be calmed by his friend- | ly words, and to be enticed back to her favor | ite seat.
 And then she poured forth the whole story, | AS she had learnt to know it SO well of late, | and almost unknowingly to herself, contrived | at the same time to let the secret of her own young heart be clearly seen by the dark | watchful eyes.
 ssNow Lave told you everything" she said, ''as you asked me, and, "hesitating, "of' course it was fair you should know, as | and nere she paused. but the wistful looks in
 the pretty eyes said the rest. "Yes," said her listener, "I have heard it | all, and my opinion is that you are wrong. | No. you must listen to me now" Perhaps Mr. Weston had been little deceived ly | Charity's grlish, shrinking manner had not | quite realized the strong, powerful will that
 lay beneath it.
 | had learnt to know. "YOu mean well, but 1 | do not want to hear the other side of it. | There llay be one, of course, but it does not affect me. Father wishes it, and that is all care to know" E..T
 But, Charity" Mr. Weston was firing | his last shots now, in the intervals of pacing | up and down the room, and Charity was seat ed very still and upright, with folded hands to receive them. ''But, Charity, if he knew your father, mean--that you did not want it." .H tHe will never know"
 | ''He should know |; things are different now evsn to what they were three weeks ago, | when you first promised him" Things are just the same as far as Felix and 1 are concerned" she answered, though | her cheeks grew shade whiter. Father is l old and bTind and trusts me he shall never
 know that, "het voice faltered, Il Was tempt. ed to break my trust"
 Mir. Weston turned away in silence, and
 took another turn the whole length of the room ere speaking. | ''And Felix 2' then he questioned. "Wh"n he comes, he, with sort of triumph in his
 tones, ''may not like you"
 ''Then shall be free. My pride," with I half laugh, ''wiIl not be much hurt" ''And supposing," he was standing still
 now, looking down, with tender, pitiful eyes on her slight, upright figure. ''Supposing he should wish to marry you for-for the sake of other things, although" sf' he'.- 1 "Although he did not like me?? Her l voice trembled little then, but she went on 1 quite firmly, ''You must not say that. We | have agreed, Polie and 1, not to believe any | thing against him until we sec him. Ynu must not let me break that promise" Mr.. l Weston turned abruptly away. s.. 9 ..- 1 '.You have conquered, then he said. Il