The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1881-07-13
A CRUSHED HEART.

youth and vitality there was III her
springy step and carriage,
And then, rs she came near him. and
looked up, he realized that he was face
to face with the most glorious eyes that
ever had been lifted 10 his--and he was
thirty-iive, and felt forty-fye, and had
travelled half over the world, and been
presented to charming women without
number, and had broken more hearts
than he could remember.
Handsome, diStiague, wealthy, aris-
tocratic, Disguised with life, wearied
with the safety of good things, that had
all his life been laid at his feet for his
taking; he had rushed away from town
and had shut himself up at Saxenham
Towers, his ancestral home, with bis
books, his horses, his thoughts, deaf and
dumb TO the score Of letters every post
brought him beseeching his return
even cruelty negligent Of Maud Brere-
tons coaxing notes who, certainly OF
all women, had the best right to COM
mand him, seeing that he had been her
most devoted worshipper for the past
three months
But now, as lie passed Violet Harland,
her dark hair pceping out in half-curl-
ing rings on her low, white forehead,
her cheeks flushed, her lips warmly,
lusciously red. and her eyes,
Sir Aubrey felt as though an electric
shock had been administered as they
met in brief, casual glance and act
ing upon his impuse-a thing he was
in the habit of doing, as all your hand
some. selfish men are--he refined his
horse sharply in, bringing ii back upon
its launches in quivering subsection TO
his low, authoritative word, his strong
wrist.
And then he turned round, more in
terest in Lis face than anyone had seen
there in the last five years.
just as Violet turned round-impellcd
by that mysterious psychological inhu-
ence we all have felt; and met his
glance, and-slipped on a treacherous
stone, and--dd not get up.
Sir Aubrey was out OF the saddle and
at her side in second.
care you hurt? Let me assist you to
rise. Miss"
A deathly wilderness was on her face
that made her more startlingly lovely
than before.
II am afraid l have sprained my
anklc-it was so stupid of me to fall"
What voice--eyen through its vi.
brations of il-concealed suffering.
81 hone not-surely such little fall
would"
But while he spoke Violet tainted at
his feet.
There was but one thing to do, aud
in the name Of common humanity, Sir
Aubrey Trevelyan picked the uncon-
scious girl up, as gently as a woman
might have done, as only strong man
could have done, and carried his insen-
sible burden through the gate he bad
only just quilted, leaving his horse
where it stood in theroad
And when, ten minutes later, Violet
woke to find herself on the lounge in
the magnificent library. and DR.. Bran
don, her own physician, and Mrs. Hum
phreys, the housekeeper at Saxenham
Towers, in attendance. while Sir Au-
brey, anxious, handsome, interested,
stood watching the proceedings, she
knew her life romance had begun.
And week from the time he and
DR.. Brandon had driven her home from
the Towers to her own mere modest
home, Sir Aubrey Trevelyan was ready
for almost anything where she was con-
cerned
Not day but he called at the little,
gray cottage where she and her silent,
sternfaced sister lived. Books, hot
house flowers, hot-house fruits moth
ing was too good, too expensive for
her, and to see her eyes light up at
sight OF him, to watch her resoute et-
forts to hide from him the love for him
that was growing every day, was the
keenest pleasure that had come to him
for many a year.
For she loved him. How could Il
have been otherwise2 His gentle mas
terfulness his caressing imperiousness,
swayed her as strong wind does the
lily on its stem, and she was so essen
italy woman that she thoroughly en-
joyed being governed.
So much was crowded into that little
ten days time, and although Sir Aubrey
had by some unaccountable power,
quite astonishingly strange to himself,
refrained from direct avowal Of his
passion for her, yet they both under
stood ii as well as though the most ex-
plicit words had been used
Violet was perfectly happy. Those
days when she was prisoner on her
lounge had been days fuller Of rapture
than she had ever imagined life could
contain.
Proud, honorable, unsuspicious, she
never had thought that Sir Aubrcy's
love for her was not as loyal as hers
for him; and so when he came one day
and told her that he was called to Lon
don On some business for day OF so,
but would come back at the very eari-
est moment, she never, for second,
doubted him.
Nor did Sir Aubrey doubt himself
that he would return. Miss Brereton
had telegraphed him that he must come,
or one of her entertainments would fall
fiat And-just little ashamed of
having buried himself in the country SO
long and half wondering what he would
say, and--more than little fearful
that some one would fathom the attrac-
uoh, ne decided 10 obey his fair friend
behest N